I’m waking up to research exercise programs for fibromyalgia. I need to get back into regularly exercising and I need to get better about respecting the limits of my body. I keep injuring myself because of my lack of acknowledgment of my limits. This is a problem.

My chiropractor told me that I shouldn’t run for the foreseeable future. He wants me walking, bike riding, he’s excited about the dance lessons, and he has three specific exercises he wants me to get religious about doing every day: body weight squats, planks, and pose #34 on this page.

Ok, that whole website is really cool. I think I’m going to print that out so that when I’m feeling a sore muscle I can look for which stretch will help. I’m inspired.

But those are the three exercises he wants me to get religious about for my particular problems and pain. He told me to stop listening to Noah about adding weight to the squats. That is for people who have different goals from exercise than I have.

My massage therapist wants me to go in to see my woo woo nutritionist for counseling/hypnotherapy with some of my shit. Given that talking to my woo woo nutritionist does make me feel better I’m highly considering that as a better option than continuing to see the psychiatrist who desperately wants me off of pot.

I need my psychiatrist to stop talking to me about getting off pot. I think I need to express a boundary that for the foreseeable future pot and occasional Ativan are all the drugs I want. I barely use caffeine. Ok, I seriously OD on sugar. I am definitely not above finishing the nitrous in the whip cream container. Sometimes I even buy extra nitrous but it’s pretty rare. In the past few years I can otherwise count my drug usage on my fingers and I have no plans in the foreseeable future due to breeding limitations.

I don’t want other drugs. They do bad things to me. I am not even going to be buying more nitrous.

I barely want Ativan. I want about three pills a month. I feel like that is an amount of risk that might be necessary for me. Pot isn’t perfect for using while pregnant, I know… but the consensus is that I have to be medicated and that is the only option that doesn’t drastically increase how much I want to kill myself.

Uhm, what is the exact purpose of me medicating? Because people worry about me offing myself? Riiiiiiight.

The last week was horrible. I feel so ashamed of myself when I go through life weeping because I am not physically capable of stopping the tears. I feel ashamed when someone tells me they love me and I have to walk away because I want to start screaming NO YOU DON’T. NO YOU DON’T. STOP FUCKING LYING. NO YOU DON’T. NO YOU DON’T. NO YOU DON’T.

I feel ashamed of the way I talk about so much of what happens to me. Like I’m bragging or exaggerating for effect. I describe my life and my experiences because it is in writing them down that I understand them. When they happen to me I often am not physically capable of comprehending what just happened. When I write it down I integrate it into my brain. Without writing it down for myself… I know I miss a lot of nuance. Hell, I miss big obvious points if I don’t write it down.

I don’t know if this is common or if this is part of “most cultures” or what, but I feel like I have to pay a price for being born. I have to pay for what I get or I don’t deserve it. My parents should have paid for what happened for my childhood, of course, but now I bear the price for my life. Only my parents didn’t pay for my childhood. Charity bore a huge portion of the burden for my life. I’m aware into the marrow(what a bitchy word to spell) of my bones that I deserve nothing. But I want.

What do I want?

I want so much. I want so very much. I want love. I want joy. I want ecstasy and connection and growth.

No relationship that exists exists outside of boundaries. Boundaries create our existence. Boundaries create you.

And I just got a coupon from our orthodontic office. In this spring, let us know that as we cause you intense pain in your mouth… at least less pain in your chequebook.

I only ever write out chequebook because I saw Jenny write cheque once and I think of it.

I love you so much more than you will ever know. You shape my very existence by existing. I tell Noah about Lakeside. I say, “There is this woman who follows me who went to my kindergarden. Let me tell you about that school.”

Kerry, you matter.

Thank you all for being part of my story. Cos, do you know that you are part of my story of Boston even though I didn’t spend time with you there? When I think of that city I think of you. When I go to places there I think, “Has Cos been here? Does he like this ice cream?”

I think it is funny that I feel like I hear from P more since she moved to Mexico. I don’t think of her less often. I’m so glad you are happier.

I got to see my Sarah this weekend. She looked happier than I’ve seen her in a while even though she is clearly exhausted. Her life is taking a lot out of her. Gosh I like this company she is working for.

Last night I went walking with two of the fantastic queer, wonderful people who validate for me that I get to exist in this world. I was told that these two beautiful, delicious queer people wish I could be their mother. God that felt good.

We create our own gods. We create our own culture. We create our own priorities.

I wish I could be my mother too.

I wish I could have a mother who looks at me the way I look at the world. “Sweetheart, how can I help you to be more effective?”

Christ if I had someone to help me be more effective?……. Watch out.

When I was younger I knew someone who had the license plate “Ingenue”. I don’t feel bad telling you her license plate number because she is dead. I don’t know for sure how she died but she has been gone for almost seven years. I’m desperately afraid she killed herself given what I knew about her. I think about Jill often. She was so beautiful, so talented, so smart, so driven, so accomplished, so much of what I wish I could be. Knowing her convinced me that I didn’t have any desire to peak early. I don’t want to be so well known for what I did when I was young. I miss you, Jill.

I asked my friend if she could handle taking over the insurance payments for the car I bought her  and she said not yet. Ok, I’ll carry another six months. Dearest, Y, you don’t know what you mean to me. I understand that the current of this life has not been fair to you in any particular from small to great and you are doing the best you can. I am so honored to know you. You are so wonderful.

But mostly I understand that what I have flows from Noah. I am where I am because of Noah. Ok, sure I’m a powerful mutliplier but Noah is an amazing source of energy of his own. Thank you Noah.

My life exists because of Noah. My house exists because of Noah. My ability to help people in the current shape exists because of Noah.

And now, he is the source of French toast. Sorry y’all. I’m hungry.