The answer to medical mystery #1 is a small ovarian cyst, hopefully on it’s way out already.  Call back in 60 days if it still hurts.  Hoping for as easy a resolution on medical mystery #2 on Tuesday.  Still I have opted out of the martial arts classes I was going to start today.  I definitely feel strained by this news and like I can’t afford one small extra thing, in case it needs to go to medical expenses.  While the ovarian cyst diagnosis is a relief to some extent (I didn’t want them to find nothing because I definitely have pain, but I didn’t want something huge and awful either) it can be a sign of an endocrine disorder which means, I have to deal with the skin cancer biopsy, the possible effects of that and keep much better track of all my bodily related health now, in addition to my mental health, so we can sort out if this is a one time thing or part of a larger problems.  Sounds exhausting.  I’m already exhausted.

I feel like I should make so big personal evaluation in light of of my birthday.  But honestly, I’m too tired to do it.  Or maybe I’ve just been doing it so much in the last 5 months that’s there’s not much evaluating left to do right now.  No, there’s surely always more evaluating to do, I am just too tired.

The above bit has been sitting in ‘draft’ format for 2 days while I try and think how to finish it.

I was running errands at lunch today and Alice Walker was on the radio talking about chicken farming of all things.  A woman called in just to tell Ms. Walker how much her life had been affected by Ms. Walker’s books. The host thanked her for her call and Ms. Walker said, “I can tell how beautiful you are just by your voice.” Just the way she said it filled me with so much grief and so much love that I had to pull over for a second to get control of myself.

I have had Shug Avery’s version of “Speak Lord (God is trying to tell you something)” from The Color Purple stuck in my head for about a week now.  God is trying to tell me something.  Alice Walker is trying to tell me something.  Everyone around me is trying to tell me something.  And it’s like I can almost hear the answer, a murmur, a susurration trying to get me to look inside and remember my own beauty.  But it’s like somehow my creativity got all locked down somewhere and with it my ability to see who I am and to see who I want to be (because it’s the always striving to be better that I think defines me more than the me in any instance).  There is actually stranger in the mirror some days, when I’m really looking and I don’t know how to find my own reflection anymore.

Annnnnnnnnnnnd, I am putting too much pressure on myself about it.  I mean, too much pressure to get better, to feel better, to act more like “me,” to heal faster.  Too much pressure on myself is big part what got me deep in this anxiety hole in the first place.  I’m struggling to come up goals for the next five years and I can’t even get it together to cook dinner for myself when no one comes over to share it with me.

So I’m going to start setting goals for myself for each week. And they will hopefully be achievable and I will not require more from myself than just doing my best to meet those stated goals.

Goals for this week:

  1. cut out the pieces for one sewing project
  2. mail package that have been in my car for more than a week
  3. finish one book
  4. make a nice dinner just for myself
  5. follow up with my doctor about my recent appointments
  6. buy a mop and clean my floors
  7. make identifiable progress on new work projects (at my actual paying job)

I think seven is good for now.  That’s essentially one a a day and none too taxing, I hope.

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