I know it’s a few days after Halloween, but I thought I’d post this anyway. My sister was the one who actually carved this jack-o-lantern. It features her cat Ozzie. In sillhoutte. Um, yeah.

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Angelo says: More pet pics are available for your viewing pleasure at this week’s Friday Ark. If you post your own pets’ photos, leave them a trackback or comment and you’ll be listed there, too. And remember — they don’t limit pictures just to cats!

My grandfather was in the hospital for the past two or three weeks, and the reports from one of my aunts had been positive: we didn’t have to visit him when he was first hospitalized; that we could wait ’til Thanksgiving to go to Vegas where my entire extended family and father live (though this was my maternal grandpa), which was our original plan; that he was supposed to be discharged earlier this week.

But at around 3:00 a.m. CST on October 30th, my grandpa had two heart attacks in a row and passed away. Just recently he was teasing the nurses, doing his crosswords, and watching college football. I so badly wanted to talk college ball with him, find out who his favorite teams were, ask what he thought about my Buckeyes being ranked 25th in the beginning of the season and now being number 1. I so looked forward to discussing this over Thanksgiving. Now I’ll never have the chance.

Well, Brian told me that wherever Lolo (“grandpa” in Tagalog) is, and since he was devoutly Catholic, I know he’s in heaven, he’s aware that I did want to talk college football with him. It’s just really hard because I didn’t get to visit him like my brother and sister did when he was first hospityalized, and that our trip to Vegas won’t be the festive one we originally planned. Since Brian and I are attending the services this weekend, we won’t be able to visit over the holidays. But I guess that’s life.

My grandmother, at least, is holding up really well.

I’ll continue to post what and when I can — I have one more game post, an update on Basil’s health condition, as well as my own GI condition. I would have posted this stuff earlier in the week, but I’ve been sick with a cold. Figures, huh?

And I don’t just mean the tollways. I admit that I didn’t want to go on the trip in the first place because I can’t stand weddings, probably because all we had was a Civil Ceremony, as most of you know.

The six-hour trip to Ames, Iowa, was bad enough, and I don’t think my father-in-law was too happy about us being late for the rehearsal dinner. In fact, Brian missed the rehearsal entirely, and at that point, I began to think that maybe not having a wedding was a good idea, after all. But witnessing all of the decorations, declarations, and so on was too much. The judge never said anything about “these two people” or about love or anything, and neither did my sister or brother-in-law, because who would they be addressing? The waitress at the restaurant my mother took us to afterwards? Also, because Brian was a groomsman, I had to be at the church three hours early, as well, to be part of the family pictures of which I was in all of . . . maybe four?

We didn’t even get to sit together at the reception because he was seated at the head table. Thank God he didn’t have to dance with his ’ho partner or sit next to her. I didn’t leave my chair the entire time nor did I make eye contact with him until towards the end. Fortunately, I was sitting with my in-laws, so that was good.

Near the end of the reception, I began to feel nauseous and yawn uncontrollably. Most people were leaving, anyway, so Brian and I decided to leave (I was talking to him again by then), and I had to run to the restroom because I thought I would throw up. I tried to make myself, because once it actually happens, people usually feel better, but I couldn’t get anything out. The weird thing was that I didn’t feel anxious.

Don’t get me wrong — I’m very happy for my brother-in-law and his new wife. But yes, I was — am — jealous. Still, I soldiered through the day as best as I could, but when we returned to the hotel room, a ton of BPD symptoms burst out of me and I ended up cutting.

I felt suicidal. I felt that nothing in my life has gone the way I had pictured it as a little girl — the mood disorders, disability, ECT, no career. I’d always thought I’d have a wedding ceremony. Even my first husband and I eloped because I wasn’t getting along with my parents at the time. (I get along well with my dad now, but my mom has yet to acknowledge my recent birthday, but that’s another story. Oh, yeah — they’re divorced. That’s why my dad is so much cooler and relaxed now.)

Brian was right, of course — I’d feel better the next day. I did, but the drive back was still stressful. We stopped at an outlet mall and spent way too much, and now we’re paying for it. And I’m literally paying, emotionally, for the entire weekend. But I missed my brother-in-law’s graduation in May, and manipulated Brian into missing it, too. Ain’t BPD grand? I felt that I really owed this weekend to Brian; he has more of a connection to his immediate family than I do to mine.

As soon as we hit the road early Friday afternoon, the high I felt from winning my game Thursday night, that exhilaration and excitement that I’d been holding onto since the 3rd period buzzer rang and that I was hoping would get me through the weekend . . . vanished.

See? This isn’t turning into just a hockey blog! Heehee. In this post, I’m going to discuss my butt problems and the fibroid. So if you gross out easily, go away and come back when I post my next hockey post, probably tomorrow.

(more…)

For the past few nights I’ve exhibited disturbing BPD symptoms. These happen late at night: throwing things, picking fights with Brian, making him sleep on the couch, threatening to OD (not commit suicide, of course — just typical BPD attention-seeking behavior). It’s like I’m cracking up. It bothers me because I rarely behave this way anymore. The majority of the time, I don’t even present with enough symptoms to be considered BPD.

I’m thinking there’s a lot to this. For one, I’m due for my next ECT, which I’m having tomorrow, thank God. Brian says I’m like a cell phone now: my bars have obviously been low for the past couple of weeks, so I need to be recharged. :d Then all my other health problems.

And finally, God-damn, motherfucking WP 2.1.x. I’ve grown to dread blogging because any images I include never look the way they’re supposed to, and after hitting “Save and Continue Editing,” my anxiety mounts as I scroll down to look at the preview screen. Yeah, in this version, the preview text link is missing so you have to scroll.

The last straw was when I played two games Friday night, in which both my teams lost. Despite the fact that I had only 15 minutes between games, apparently played well according to my teammates and Brian (especially in my first game), I couldn’t see it. Didn’t believe it. All I could think about was how, in the two total seasons I’ve played, each one five years apart, I’ve won only one game. One! (Not counting the two scrimmages Tigers Orange played against a start-up team during the regular season this past year). I felt like a complete and utter loser — that I should quit playing hockey altogether.

Anyway, you’ll just have to wait for the game post (that I know you just can’t wait for , which Brian is going to help me write. I’m hoping to post it tomorrow.