Eight days...

I keep trying to write, only to find myself with nothing to say.  Or nothing worth speaking.

It's been a long, long week (or rather eight days), with a few bright spots.  One was getting my replacement refrigerator.  It arrived on Thursday, which made for a long, long day.  I had to empty mine and then re-fill the new one.  The good news is that the new one is much, much better than mine.  Small things, really, that add up to a BIG difference.

For one, there is an extra cubic foot in both the refrigerator and the freezer.  In the freezer, it almost feels as if there is two or even three.  Mostly, this is because of the second bin in the freezer.  Storing things in a bin, things that cannot be stacked easily on a shelf, multiplies space.  Also, the three bins in the freezer door are much deeper and have more space than I can think of how to use.

On the refrigerator side, the best news is that the light box that was at the front of the top of the refrigerator, blocking access to the top shelf is gone.  The light is now in the back corner.  And the top shelf is ginormous.  Every time I look at it, I am amazed anew at just how much space there is and that I never, ever have to tilt my jug of milk in order to put in on the shelf again!  Like the freezer, I have extra space in the refrigerator door bins.  Two are only half full.  Shocking, eh?

The less than good  news is that the two extra shelves in the freezer that I need to manage all my ice packs did not fit in the newer model.  I was able to take them from my original new refrigerator from five years ago and put them into the new refrigerator I bought a year ago.  But I am not able to put them into this one.  They are too narrow.  So, I had to spend far, far, far too much money replacing those.  You see, the side-by-side models only come with three shelves, thinking that you would want a space large enough for a frozen pizza on its side.  Well, yes, maybe, if you didn't have a neurological disorder that made ice packs one of your most prized and needful possessions.  SIGH.

Most of the last week was spent being ill or resting or avoiding my thoughts.

Firewood Man did finally bring me a load of firewood and he did the final mow of the year.  This meant that he also tended to all my leaves.  Well, except for the leaves from the ornamental pear tree out front.  Those are still on the tree!  This was the first year I didn't have to do the raking and bagging and I am deeply relieved and thankful.

I was able to prune the burning bushes for the year.  If I do not, they start growing up over the windows that are above the built-ins in the dining room!  Pruning is not so bad, but cleaning up is rather hard on me.  Too much bending over and getting up from a squat.  I also pruned the weeping cherry as best I could in case I am not able to get it removed.  It is still massive, despite having pruned enough for an entire yard waste bag.

I also worked on refilling my larder, which was getting a bit low.  I now have 10 different options in my freezer for meals and one dessert option.  I have been a bit lax on refilling those containers.  I would like to try a new recipe or two, but it was good to do a bit of cooking.

Finally, I started work on building a frame for the stained glass window I bought for my haven last spring.  Firewood Man hasn't had time to do so.  I spent a long time thinking about what I could make and asked to borrow his miter saw.  I have much of it done, but have not had the energy to pick the project back up.  I still need to work on the inner frame, how the window will be held in place. Then priming and painting.  But I have the outer frame done and ready to paint.  When it is all done, I will still need help installing it.

So, some productivity and some cooking and a lot of just ... being.

I've mentioned before that I wondered why the authors of my favorite dysautonomia blog stopped writing.  I get it.  Life becomes too overwhelming.  And there are no words sufficient to speak such a life.

Since I started therapy (for the umpteenth time) last April, all I have been doing is be overwhelmed.  I keep thinking that I am wasting her time because we just ... I just ... well, I spill out how I've been overwhelmed the intervening week and we never get around to ... the hard stuff. 

All I do these days is manage.  I manage pain and manage medications and manage symptoms and manage ... well, manage and endure.  For I was going to say that I manage my fear.  But I am not managing that.  Would that I were.  SIGH.