It’s on my list…

I write lists all the time.  Shopping lists… grocery shopping lists… building materials shopping lists…. birthday present shoppings lists…. lists of recipes to try… ‘to do’ lists…  lists of upcoming committments… wish lists… lists of names I like… lists of cool quotes I’ve heard… and it goes on and on.  My iPhone is also stuffed full of notes that are basically lists of ‘stuff’ – movies that I want to see, books I should read, music that I want to get. 

I think it’s what compels me to fill out so many of those internet memes that pop up all over the place.  They’re questionaires, but they feel like uncompleted lists.  Must answer to complete list.   I have my own TO DO LIST… you know… the one of all the cool stuff you want to do in your life.  It largely incorporates lots of cool stuff I have already done…  but I also have a list in the back of my head of all the stuff that I always WANTED to do but never did because of my ‘bad back’ has been holding me back for years.

I never went waterskiing again after 1991.
I never went sky diving with my Dad.
I never went white water rafting with my friends in Austria.
I never joined the army which was my plan for ages.
I never got a motobike license.
I never went paragliding in Ouldeniz.
I never went scuba diving again.
I never walked up the Spanish Steps.
I never took up martial arts.
I never played basketball again.
I never bought an old Charger to do up.
I never built the Small Child a cubby house.
I never took up target shooting.
I never went canoeing or kyaking again.
I never climbed Cradle Mountain.
I never swim in the surf anymore.

There’s been so many things over the last 17 years that I just didn’t do or I avoiding doing because my back hurt or I knew it would hurt me more if I did them.  Only now (all things being relative) I’m look back and thinking… "You stupid dumb bitch."   I had a window.  I had a window… and I didn’t even see it.

My back pain started in 1991.  I left working in an office in 1994.  Retired on the grounds of permanent and partial incapacity in 1997.  Studied until 1999.  Got the court case all finalized in 2000.  Had the Small Child in 2001.  Got back into part time work by 2003.  Was doing IVF until the end of 2005 and then got back to full time work in 2007.

And that was my window… between quitting IVF at the end of 2005 and starting full time work in 2007 was my window.  The window where I had learned to manage and alleviate my back pain to a point where it wasn’t affecting me every day.  I was at my fittest, I wasn’t taking ANY medications, I had a positive outlook for the future, I was working full time even managing dodgy shift work, dancing for fun and fitness, gainfully engaged in the SCA and for the most part… I was doing okay.  I was having pain issues – but they weren’t overwhelming.  In hindsight the back pain played a small bit part in my life, but it was not the depressing, debilitating, all encompassing, inescapable and pervasive animal that it is now.

That was my window…  I might not have been able to race back to Austria, to Cradle Mountain, to Rome or Ouldeniz, but I could have joined a social basketball team, I could have taken up target shooting again, I could have taken the time to hit the beach occasionally, I could have gone canoeing with my Mum, I could have built the Small Child his cubby house… but I didn’t.  I didn’t because I didn’t want to ‘stir up my back’.

I had a window fuck it … and now it feels like I missed it.
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Borys’ Emporium of Impossible Acquisitions…

Earlier this week I was shopping for a camera for Yale, a laptop for Spoto, knuckle nail plates for Erick the Half a Bee as well as concrete roof tiles, a double glazed window and metal gutters and fascia bits for the finish of the roofline.  On top of that I’ve still got plenty of building materials to get and I’m also starting to look for furnishings because we all know how long the damn lead times are from order to delivery of furniture… so the sooner the better I think.  So I am shopping, shopping, shopping….

Building materials that I still need to get –
– roof tiles (on order delivery Friday)
– gutters and fascia (on order delivery Friday)
– double glazed window (on order delivery next tuesday)
– insulation
– gyprock
– cornice
– skylights (dude coming to quote next wednesday)
– plastering materials
– paints etc
– a gazillion miles of ethernet cabling and ports (see yale :P)

And then the pretties start…
– colour scheme (walls ‘Manilla Hemp to match the house)
– carpet (not sure. navy or burgundy to match or branch out with chocolate brown?)
– curtains (colour… curtain rods or tracks?)
– pendant or close to ceilling interior light  (can’t be in the way of the media projector)
– interior wall lights (one ceiling light won’t be sufficient for room this big)
– exterior carriage lamps  (elegant and not too glaring)
– sliding doors for wardrobes (innocuous and non-reflective – gold trim?)
– media projector ceiling mount (god knows what type?)
– power points  (lots of them – about 6 or so)
– multi-way light switches  (few of these too)

also looking for
– sofas or day beds  (need two)
– occasional tables 
– entertainment cabinet  (one big low one I think)
– some sort of speaker solution

I hate shopping at the best of times…. at least these days a lot of it can be done online… yay!

The tension leaving my brain is palpable.

This afternoon I heard that Erick the Half a Bee is coming by himself this weekend to work some more with Mr K.  I can’t believe how overwhemingly relieved I am to hear that I won’t have to spend the weekend running from my own house in an attempt to stay away from the Crack Whore Baby – which is starting to remind me of the one on the ceiling on Trainspotting.
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So what have you been up to?

An innocent enough question, but when uttered by your friendly neighbourhood psychiatrist there are no innocent questions.

"Ummm, I’ve not been doing much really."  She tells me that most people she sees get in the chair and just go ‘blargh’ all over the place the minute the door closes but that for some reason (if she’s figured that reason out she hasn’t shared it) I tend to be rather quiet and non-responsive and she feels like she has to drag me kicking and screaming into a discussion.  Likely this is due to my long established habit of avoiding talking about my problems just … because that’s what I do.

"You’re looking rather tired today, have you had a busy weekend or something?"  Okay, she hits paydirt with this one and out comes the story of how Erick the Half a Bee and his wife were down on the weekend to help work on the house and how they bought their little foster baby with them and how much I seriously did not feel like I had the energy to be dealing with babies at the moment… and in particular babies that had been abandoned by their drug fucked mothers who didn’t deserve to be able to have them in the first place.

I found myself telling her about the statement that – ‘Borys would just have to deal with the baby being present if she wants the room finished.’ and how I felt that my cousin-in-law’s attitude was just a little insensitve given that they know all about my horrible IVF history and my five fucked up miscarriages – the whole works and jerks.  The Trick-Cyclist says "That’s not just insensitive… that’s cruel… deliberately cruel."  I never thought she was being ‘cruel’ and I found myself making excuses for her… "I’m sure she had no malicious intent… and I’m probably just being hypersensitive for no reason… and she’s probably just not really thinking that it might affect me at all…. and in fact I bet she probably thinks she’s actually trying to help me to get over my whole baby aversion/infertility thing… blah blah blah." 

But the psych was having none of it.  "No, not just insensitive – cruel." she says again.  "By saying that you’d ‘just have to deal with it’ she is acknowledging that she is fully aware of the discomfort and stress she is about to place on you by bringing a baby into your house and she has decided to force that upon you anyway.  It’s cruel and it’s bullying."  Bullying?  "No surely not," says I… "I’m sure she just wasn’t thinking.  She’s very opinonated and perhaps not as educated and well informed as she’d like to think she is… and sometimes she’s just not very sensitive to the feelings of others… she’s just very forthright and blunt is all."

"Remember when they used to put women who’d had still births or miscarriages into maternity wards along side several other women who were there with their families celebrating the safe arrival of their own babies?  (*this happened to my Mum actually)  Hospitals very rarely do this anymore as we recognize the enormous psychological impact it has at such a critically difficult time on the mothers who are grieving the loss of their babies.  This is a similar thing, she has deliberately put you in a situation in your own home that dredges up all the tears, frustrations and disappointments associated with your infertility, your many IVF treatments and your miscarriages…. and it is absolutely cruel of her to do that to you given that she obviously knows your history."

At which point I stopped defending Erick the Half A Bee’s wife and started to think that the psych might be right (God I hate it when that happens).  We spoke about it a little more until I started to ponder aloud about how I truly don’t understand why I am so emotionally wrung out over other people’s babies, and friends being pregnant given that it’s been nearly 4 years since I gave up on the whole IVF thing.  She felt that maybe I wouldn’t be feeling this quite so keenly if it weren’t for my current circumstances – those being that I’m told I’m suffering from a Major Depressive Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, an Adjustment (to injury and chronic pain) Disorder as well as some sort of Anxiety Disorders… so the odds were high that a baby in my house would be another significant cumulative stressor allowing many feelings to surface that I had thought long burried.  Along with trying to handle being in pain all day and the limitations and frustrations that accompany those daily stressors, an additional stressor in the form of a newborn in the house has created an inability and unwillingness to have to ‘deal with it’.

So basically… no.  No. I don’t think I’m being hypersensitive anymore.  I shouldn’t have to pretend in my own home that all is well with the world when it patently is not.  I have been through an awful lot when it comes to IVF and infertility and I should allow myself to acknowledge that as well as the emotional scars that have been left behind.  So screw this.  I have every right to feel the way I do and I am not going to willingly put myself through any additional unnecessary stress if they bring that baby down next time. 

I will be packing a bag for me and the Small Child and going to my Mum’s for the duration.
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