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What stage of grief is this now?

I've increased my meds. No, I've increased the amount and frequency of my self-medicating meds. Part of that has to do with tolerance levels rising on the one hand (amount of MJ gone up from 5mg to 10mg) and tolerance levels plummeting on the other hand (how do I turn this brain thing off ??). Turn off, tune out. I want to leave my body. I don't exactly want to die but I'd just like to step out for a while. Maybe sleep into a new life. These are not metaphors for death or suicide. I wish I could astral project. Is there an on-line course for that?

I love my daughter, like I've said before, I would not be here without her. And yet I feel like I'm dying inside. I've put my life on hold or idle, while I spend most of my time caring for her or being with her. And what 'life' do I have that matters? I don't, except the one in my mind, that I need to express. I'm grieving for my youthfulness---it seems to be ebbing away---more aches and pains, stronger ones, that make me worry that before I know it I won't be able to hold a paint brush or pinch clay and a part of me will die that day. Is that why we are dying by degrees? It seems so apt and poignant now--a book, a movie line?

Time. Fast and slow, fast and slow. I put the microwave on to heat a piece of pie for one minute tonight---while high---and went away from it to listen to the show I was watching---and suddenly I was worried that I had put the microwave on for 10 minutes because it was taking SO long! I checked, and the microwave said 49 seconds to go. It was an awkward moment (or 48 seconds) waiting for that time to pass....

So that means that 1 minute sober me time = 10 minutes HIGH me time. Does that then mean that people who partake in the 'weed' will live longer? Just by minutes only. Unless you are continuously high all the time every day for a year. Then you can multiple that by 10 and get 10 more years out of life. I'm no mathematician but it sounds reasonable to me. Any way! I was talking about time---fast and slow, dying by degrees. Biding my time until my daughter is old enough that she doesn't need me so much and I will be free to frolic in my free time and paint to my heart's content. (so many clichés) Doesn't need me?? Wahhhhhhhhh! So? Back and forth, back and forth.

I actually take care of my body pretty well--even though I am overweight and not as fit as an amazon. I eat quite healthily and try to exercise regularly--I have long-lived genes--spry ones too---so what am I worried about? I have time to lose that weight and get into even better shape and STILL be able to hold a paint brush without a lot of pain! I laugh at pain! What is pain but a gentle reminder that you are alive? Be thankful! Right?

Time. Time heals. What stage of grief is this now? Acceptance? Acceptance. But none of these stages are fixed points. They aren't stations on a direct one-way journey. And I'm not just grieving one thing at a time. I still hold a little grief for my non-parental days--that one lingers. And then I look in the mirror and think---'who is that old person?' 'when did I get that old?" So I avoid mirrors. I don't FEEL old (except for the aches and pains).

I actually feel much MUCH more positive now at this present age than I ever have in my entire life. I put that down to a wealth of life experiences that have lead to my surviving this long---long enough to benefit from not having killed myself to know that killing myself would have been a total waste! And yet sometimes, I still yearn for nothingness. So I wish I could check out and come back later. Tune in when the good stuff is on and avoid the commercials, and the debt, and the stupidity.

Much more positive. You have NO idea how much more positive. Well, if you're reading this, you probably do have some idea because why else would you be down here in the rabbit hole with me if you didn't. This is my rabbit hole and if you don't want to hear my story, then go get your own rabbit hole! Shot gun!

These are my coping mechanisms. Drugs, alcohol. Writing. Laughing. Swimming. I finally got myself back to the pool!! I absolutely love swimming. I've gone three times. I thought I would be in pain after the first time back in years, but I wasn't! I did have to swim through the pain in the first 40 laps but after that the Tin Woman's joints were all oiled up! I've been swimming laps regularly since my early teens---how could I ever have let that fall away? Baby, autism, depression, divorce/death. Well, I can't let that fall away again. It's like meditation but active.

I'm doing the best I can. The universe will provide. I am worthy of love. I love myself.

When high. Or under water.

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