Curses and Laughter in a Jar

Yesterday was my first day of stabbing myself to test blood sugar levels. I have to do it first thing in the morning, and again at various times during the day. I woke up instantly stressed, and became more so when faced with the paraphernalia. The result had my anxiety levels rising. By the time I had discovered that Bob The Dog couldn't eat and had a swollen mouth, and that my oldest hen had died, I had fallen into a curious mix of feeling very flat, and at the same time fizzing with that sensation you get after a near miss in a car. It is not pleasant. I went for a brisk walk to the mailbox and back (1.2km) and felt better for about 20 minutes. Getting out and weeding the garden helped a little too, but when a car drove up, I wasn't sure whether to hide or front up.

Then I saw it was Nicky, a friend who has had a dreadful time over the last year. Oh how wonderful that big hug was! We talked lots about our different situations, laughed some, and it was wonderful to share without judgement or advice. Plus, she brought me a swear jar. Not one of those stupid 'every time you swear you have to put money in the jar' jars. No, this is a 'when things are shitty, open the jar and read a fucking curse' jar. Infinitely more useful.

The afternoon, when Mac was home, was much easier. Being alone with only my thoughts for company is hard right now, yet at the same time, the people I feel comfortable having around me are few.

I had planned to go to a meditation session at Solscape but when the time came, I was too tired, and did not feel that I could have driven safely. I will try again - meditation is something I haven't tried since 1969 but I'm hoping that the person guiding this practice won't be creepy like the guy back then was. I'm hoping that meditation will help to ease this anxiety.