Birthday Blues and Gratefullness

 Well I made it a year. 

I don’t know if my life expectancy of 2-5 years includes this past year or not, so this year might be my last I suppose…. I hope!

I’m still in treatment, even though I opted to take out one major ingredient due to the side effects that some with it. The blood tests say it’s doing something. My oncologist says it’s basically the same treatment as before just adding back in the one ingredient that they took out in July last year.

It makes me wonder if they had treated my butt wound efficiently instead of letting it get so bad, so that it would not have been necessary to take that one ingredient out, if the cancer wouldn’t have spread to my liver. 

I guess it doesn’t matter because it is what it is. Moving on…..

I had a really nice birthday this year. Gwenn came to see me for a whole week, and we had a birthday tournament on Saturday the 13th that was the biggest Saturday to date. Also, the Belles (some of them) led by Meri Pyle all dressed up in Elf costumes in honor of my Lord of the Rings theme which was awesome! Unfortunately I was in so much pain I was unable to stay the whole time, and missed the end because I was late for dinner. A nice dinner but too many people to really enjoy seeing everyone and it was also expensive since half the people there didn’t want to split the bill evenly, so I am out about $250. 

The best part I guess was Gwenn being here. It’s amazing how much our friendship has grown in the past 20 years, but this past year has been big. She’s been my champion in many ways during this fight for my life. I wish we lived near each other but that’s unlikely to ever happen so I’ll take what I can get with her visits.

I’d like to visit her as well but traveling for me is hard at best.

Elise took me and Anne to the beach for a few days at the end of April, which was very nice, but it was so quick I was barely getting comfortable before we had to go home, and the plane trips were ok but I think we could have driven and been ok.

I have a trip planned for September to see Alex and Scott in Port St Joe which I will be driving to so I hope my butt will allow it to happen.

I was actually doing pretty well with pain up until the start of this last treatment. I don’t know why it’s different except for the new ingredient, but for whatever reason my pain levels have spiked and it’s gotten to where most days I’m pretty miserable. I don’t want to start taking more pain pills because it’s taken me 6 months to get off the opioids to this point. 

My insurance company is no longer paying for my new non-opioid medication so I’m shelling out $1,000 a month out of the $1,400 I get for disability so my funds are always low. I still spend money on stuff for my 3d prints for trophies and other random crap. I’m still completely debt free though which I am very proud of.

I’ve thought about just letting the credit card go and paying the minimum, but it’s been so long since I’ve had debt I just can’t make myself do it. 

No one but Gwenn thinks I’m going to survive this so no one is thinking about money in the future. I have so little left that the longer I live the more likely I’ll end up having to sell mom’s house and go somewhere that I don’t want to be.

Obviously if - WHEN I survive this and am in remission I would go back to work and hopefully be able to get my photography business going again, but it’s been so long since I touched my cameras I would need to relearn some things I think. Technology has passed me by in many ways and I am basically a dinosaur when it comes to current innovations and techniques. That was sort of happening before my cancer though. My work had all but dried up and my time was spent doing pinball things and taking care of mom.

I’m still doing those things but lord they are hard to keep up with! Most days I am just tired and unmotivated, but even when I am motivated the butt pain keeps me from being able to sit and work on anything, including my writing, which I think about often but as we can see, rarely do anything about it.

I brought my iPad with me to treatment today and was determined to write something down. ANYTHING! 

I have so much to say and I don’t want to leave this world without saying it. 

I suppose only Anne will be able to read it, but at least someone will see my heart pouring out at the end of my life.

The end of my life….its so hard to comprehend. Even through all the pain and suffering I still don’t feel like I am “dying”. I know people get used to their routines, even horrible ones, and I have done the same thing.

My routines include staying close to my bathroom at home due to the randomness of my bowel control, or lack there of, and my going out and social time is pinball one a week. That’s pretty much it. I rarely get anyone visiting or wanting to hang out. I have gone to dinner a couple of times with Tiffany and Alejandra which was nice. I’d like to do that more often it just costs money that I don’t really have.

I’d really like to go on a hike, or be able to swim for exercise, but neither are possible because of my stupid asshole. Plus when I do anything strenuous I start getting winded, then have chest pains and have to lay down. I don’t know if that’s the cancer, the treatment, or me simply being horribly out of shape. Whatever it is, it’s awful, and most of the time I feel like a trapped animal being poked and prodded for some horrible experiment. 

I miss my life. I mean the life I had in Decatur. I miss my little house. I miss Beth. 

I was missing my Decatur life long before I got this shit though. I probably should never have moved to Marietta, but I do love it here. I’ve always liked the area more than Decatur, and my life with the pinball community is far different than it was down there. I highly doubt that I would be doing anything with leadership or tournaments if I’d stayed there. I guess I’ll never know so it’s pointless to dwell on it.

I do a lot of that….dwelling on things…I can’t seem to break that habit and “let it go”(thank you Anne) and I find myself constantly looking backwards instead of forwards. That is something that I have always done, and it’s never really been helpful to me. I suppose it’s ok to look back at mistakes if your goal is to never make those mistakes again, and I have definitely done that, but I also get lost in the fantasy of “what if”. 

What if I’d decided to rent my little house instead of sell it? Would Ted Waters, the man who bought my house and died from falling off the front stoop and freezing to death be alive? Would I have been able to keep it up and even make improvements along the way, all the while paying off the mortgage and making a little income on the side? Would I have been able to go back to it after mom died, or even now, with this diagnosis, be able to go back home and live easier in a smaller house that’s all on one floor?

What if I had not gotten back together with Ray in 2019…or even 2022? Would I have met my mate? Someone that might have actually moved in with me and really shared my life? Would I have even moved? Would Beth have gotten better and stayed sober after her transplant with me still down the street to see her every day? 

What if I’d finished my drone education and actually gotten my license? Would I be making money even now in this condition? Would I have changed career paths and focused on drone work, or simply added it to my photo services, making my business bigger and better? 

What if I’d farmed out extra work, much like the company that I started doing real estate work with, making my business grow and not having to worry about people doing video taking it away from me?

What if I’d been able to have the skin removal surgery in my 30,s when I lost all that weight before? How much different would my life have been if I’d had 10 more years… younger years… to better myself and get my head right? Would I have been married and had a family?

What if I’d gotten the colonoscopy that my PCP recommend in 2020 when I turned 50? Would I have had cancer at all or just polyps? Or maybe caught it so much earlier that it could have been treated and me be free of it?

I wonder about these things and so much more. It’s a lot of thoughts taking up space in my head and heart that I can’t do anything about but I can’t seem to stop doing it.

The choices I made in my life brought me to where I am right now. Broke, no company anymore, no love, few people that I truly trust to call friends, unsure about the future with or without cancer, sitting in a hospital waiting for my chemo treatment to start. 

Seems like I made some bad choices. 

I’m trying to correct that now as much as I can, but I feel like I’m selfish and lazy most days because I’m always tired and in some sort of pain, so I rarely want to do much of anything except drink and play pinball. I can’t even do that as much as I’d like to. I don’t even get to enjoy the machines in my basement much because I can’t sit down comfortably in the basement, or I’m too tired to traverse the stairs. 

I guess I don’t have much of a life, but I’d still like to keep what I have.

I am grateful for the people I do have in my life, even if I’m suspicious of their real intentions. I play the game with caution and try not to say the wrong thing or do something that will piss anyone off. 

I need these people. 

Some would say, and did say this past weekend, that I have a lot of people that care about me. The huge tournament…the ladies that made such an effort to dress up in costumes…hell, they even made me a cake with my image on it as an Elf! It really was fantastic, and I am very happy that I was able to at least be there for part of the day. And that’s just the ones that live in Marietta. My Decatur people came up and went to dinner with me, and I think would have stayed longer or done more with me if the tournament hadn’t interfered with the entire day.

I’m being stupid…why would I not just be grateful and accept that they do really like me and there is no hidden agenda? Well, one person who I haven’t seen or heard from in a long time makes me suspicious. Holly. The lady that was my champion last year, turned out to be the polar opposite of what she was presenting to me. The helpful, kind, person was really telling people in the background that I was treating her like a minion and complaining about all the things I asked her to do, which was all bullshit. 

I put my trust in her and was bitch slapped, so that reinforced any doubt I had about people’s intentions and real feelings about me. 

I still can’t include everyone in that group, but I just feel like I don’t have any real friends, as in people I can sit down and really talk to. I feel like if I express certain things it’s just going to be discussed behind my back and make me look like a horrible person, or just ungrateful. 

Whenever I’m with certain people that I REALLY want to be able to call my friends, I find myself editing my thoughts and feelings to make sure that they align with whoever I’m with. I don’t lie to them, but I also don’t share my complete feelings either. 

I don’t know…at this point in my life I really should be focusing my health and happiness in every way possible, and I know that the people closest to me do really care, I guess I just have a hard time believing it when I get wind of some conversation they had about a pinball thing that involves me in a negative way. 

I still run the Belles, and I’m still the state representative for the women’s division. It had been suggested to me, however, that it might be time to pass the torch. This is what really bothers me because pinball, and these tournaments are all I have to look forward to, and leading them makes me feel like I have a purpose. A real place in the community that’s important, and if I give that up I’ll just disappear.

Last year when I was unable to go to pinball or run anything other people took over and new folks showed up. Some of those new people stopped coming to the women’s tournaments after I took it back over. I don’t know if it’s because of me or some other reason, but I highly suspect that there were some pretty harsh words that came from Holly to whoever would listen. These new ladies, not knowing me at all, only got their information from Holly, or worse, some of them didn’t even know I existed. When I started running things again I had to explain who I was which felt really weird and awkward. It’s not that I expected anyone to be singing my praises the whole time I was gone, but it did feel like I was just erased. 

That feeling is what I am the most afraid of if I step down from any of the things I am in charge of. All the effort, all the time, money, and energy not to mention that I love it, would just be gone. Like I am already dead.

This time last year I was in the hospital, and shortly after I came home I was given an award for my commitment and love of the gaming community at the Southern Fried Game Expo. I wonder sometimes if that was only given to me because of my cancer, and if that was supposed to be my exit from it all. 

I can’t seem to just accept that people do like me and want to be my friend. Anything good that comes my way I hold in suspicion. It’s sad really. I can’t enjoy the good parts. I am trying though. I hope I can get there before I die from this awful disease. 

This disease…fuck it IS awful. I read posts from other people going through the same thing and all I can think is, “ at least you can sit in a chair and don’t have shit leaking out of your ass 24/7”

I regret getting the radiation last year. I almost didn’t. I have no idea what would have happened if I’d just done the chemo and not that as far as the actual cancer goes, but I do know that my situation would be a lot easier to deal with. My pain and difficulty with anything social is directly because of the radiation side effects. Even if I was cured of the cancer tomorrow I’m stuck with those forever and there is no possible way anyone can understand what it’s like to have to deal with this literal “shit” every day.

I got the cancer that steals your life AND your dignity.

I know I need to focus more on being grateful for what I do have but it’s so fucking hard to do that when your balled up in pain and having to attend to shit coming out of your deformed asshole. 

I will end this very depressing post with thoughts of gratitude though.

I am grateful that I am not as bad off as I was this time last year pain wise and wound wise.

I am grateful that I am able to go to pinball once or twice a week.

I am grateful for the ladies that show up to play every week, even when it seems like they are annoyed with staying past 9:00pm

I am grateful that my mom is still with me in the house even though it makes my life a little harder, it also makes it better.

I’m grateful my puppies are doing well and seem happy.

I’m grateful that the treatment I’m doing seems to be working at least partially, which I hope will extend my life a little.

I’m grateful that Anne lives in Georgia again and that I can see her more often than I used to.

I’m grateful for Jennifer and Julie for coming to see me and rekindling our long friendship that was kind of ignored for a while.

I’m grateful for Tiffany, Alex and Katie for being the real pinball friends I have up here.

I’m grateful for Meredith Morgan for being the person I can talk to about all my “shit”

I’m grateful for Meredith Pyle for steering me through my paranoia, and being able to deliver messages from others that seem to not be able to tell me in person.

I’m grateful for Gwenn coming to visit me and being so patient with me when she does.

I’m grateful for Elise for all her concern and trying to help even though she knows deep down there’s nothing she can do.

I’m grateful for Marie, Margaret and Stella for being so much help to me and mom at home.

I’m grateful for Mr. Steele, who has driven me countless times to and from chemo, as well as carted my mom around all over the place when I can’t get out of bed.

I’m grateful for the poison currently being pumped into my body which is helping me stay here a bit longer, hopefully to create more things to be grateful for.

I have a lot to be grateful for and I know it. I want to start LIVING like I know it. 

Quality Of Life

 2025.....

I'm sitting here after reading my post from last year almost dumbfounded about my thoughts at the end. They weren't just thoughts apparently, they were predictions of the year to come.

The year started pretty good. I was getting back into exercise a little, the tournaments were rocking along, I went back on line and met someone right away that was cute and groovy enough to at least hang with a little while, and my weight had stabilized, so when I started having this strange pain in my tailbone area coupled with MASSIVE pain and constipation when going to the bathroom, I wasn't too scared of getting off Zepbound for a while. I assumed those pains and everything else associated with the possible side effects were being caused by that. 

I could not have been more wrong. 

In late February, after suffering through another couple of months of pain in spite of being off Zepbound, I finally decided I needed to get a colonoscopy. Something Id been putting off since 2020 when my PCP told me it was time to get one. I made the appointment for the middle of March, but ended up having to reschedule it because I couldn't get a ride there and back easily and didn't want to ask my new friend for help. I finally did, and one of them, Suzanne, signed up to take me at the end of April. 

I remember the prep being so awful that I told my sister, Elise that I was NEVER doing this again. The next morning Suzanne showed up and took me to my appointment. At this point I was having rectal pain regularly and it was bad enough that I already knew something was wrong in there. I was not prepared at all for what it turned out to be. 

When I woke up from the procedure I was met with Suzanne standing there talking to the Dr that had preformed the procedure. I had already given my permission for her to know what was happening in case something went wrong, but I was confused as to why they were standing there in front of me having what looked and sounded to be a very serious discussion about my test. I was still in the process of fully waking up when the Dr blurted out that he had found a large tumor that looked malignant right inside my butthole basically. It was apparently huge, and so malformed that he knew without a test to confirm it that it was bad. 

We left there with a print out of some of the pictures from the procedure and an appointment 2 days later to have the scan explained to me. It didn't matter though, because he said it out loud, and from that very moment my life has never been the same. 

I have cancer. There it is...I wrote it down so its official. 

Not only do I have cancer but I have BIG BAD cancer. Stage 4 colorectal cancer to be precise. Stage 4...meaning its metastasized, meaning its been there unchecked long enough to et really happy and expand into new areas. Specifically my lungs at the time, but now it has also gotten into my liver and tailbone. Its bad, its ruthless, and I didn't know it at the time but its fatal.

Fatal....

What do I even do with that word?

2 days later as scheduled I would be sitting in the Drs office having this explained to me. Going through the weird nasty looking pictures and telling me that its gotten so big it was in an areas close to my sphincter and anus which could possibly mean having to have a colostomy bag procedure. Once he said that I heard very little else. A colostomy bag...I couldn't think of anything worse than having to have that. My life as of that moment would never be the same and as surreal and UNREAL as it was I felt it. I KNEW it inside. 

No more dating. No more pinball, no more anything except cancer. What was so weird to me was that other than the pain I was having I didn't feel sick. I didn't feel like I had a fatal disease at all so how bad could it REALLY be? 

When I told Elise she immediately went into SAVE HER mode. I was still mad at Beth for being such a drunk fuck up after her life saving procedure that I decided not to tell her just yet. I didn't tell my mom either. I didn't know what the full diagnosis was yet and didn't want to upset her unnecessarily. 

I thought about this blog/diary and over the next few days where I would get an MRI and CT scan in the same day under the guise of it being a critical situation, and started to write about what was happening to me but I was so overwhelmed with everything that was happening I put it off.

I stared to write about this on a plane in May because it was...is...so huge I needed to get it out of me, but I didn't know how to start. Also, I think a part of me didn't want to write it down because then it would become real. Well, it became real on its own, and my ability to sit and write about ANYTHINIG disappeared about 3 weeks later. 

The plane I was on was taking me to meet my sister, Elise, in Cleveland Ohio where I was going to be seen at one of the best cancer hospitals in the country, The Cleveland Clinic. 

Elise was already there for work and so I was on the plane by myself. I remember starting to write about it on my Ipad but I felt self conscience, like the guy next to me or behind me would be looking over my shoulder and see that I was writing about cancer. Then they would look at me with sympathetic but sorry eyes and tell me how sorry they were are about it. I was still not able to even conceive of  the full weight of it because the diagnosis that I got didn't give me a stage, or tell me that I was dying, so I assumed that I was going up to Cleveland to find a solution. Treatment that might suck but that would ultimately cure me of this thing and prevent me from having to have an Ostomy. 

We had 3 appointments all in one day that started out with me getting scoped in the office of the surgical oncologist. A humiliating and painful procedure at best. It told her that yes, the tumor was very big and very close to the sphincter and anus, which we had been told was going to cause me to have that horrible operation, but she seemed confident that it would not be necessary and that after having some treatment to shrink the tumor, she might be able to remove that section of intestine / colon without having to take the sphincter or anus thereby saving me from the ostomy procedure.  We both left that appointment feeing a bit hopeful for the first time in 2 weeks since the nightmare began. 

The next one was with the radiation oncologist. This is where we decided that a treatment of intensive radiation specifically targeted at the tumor in the rectum (the lung nodules were too small to "zap") would be the first thing to do and made an appointment to return in another week for 5 days during which time I would receive treatment daily. They did all the prep needed for it, told me of the risks of side effects which included rectal incontinence, rectal burns, and a host of other very unpleasant things, none of which I thought would happen to me because the risk was "small". 

This would be proved to be so very wrong its scary, but I'm getting ahead of myself. 

Again, we left that appointment , heading to the final one with the chemo oncologist, feeling very good about the way it was going. 

So, here we are in the last appointment. The Dr was explaining the chemo regime he thought would be best which was the first thing I didn't understand or expect after the last 2 appointments had gone so well. I was hearing him say I needed to be on chemo for a number of days every other week, hooked up to a pump that I would then take home with me for 2 additional days, and that this would be the regime that I would have to follow FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. 

The REST OF MY LIFE??? What? Surely not...I didn't understand. It was Elise that finally got him to dumb it down for me. I'm not sure that she was prepared to hear what he told us either, even though I think she was getting a much clearer picture of what was actually being said to us than I was. 

How long I had to live. That's what we were actually talking about in "Dr code." I still didn't understand. I thought we had just come from 2 Drs that had told us with great confidence that they had answers that were going to not only treat this but cure it. Sure the road getting there would be hard but it was doable.  I didn't understand, or maybe I just COULDNT understand. 

When you are being told that you have 1 year or less to live without treatment, and 3-5 years to live even with treatment...treatment that is debilitating in itself, you don't really hear it right away. But there it was all the same. That was my real diagnosis. The treatments were there to get me to that 5 year maximum and to hopefully lessen the pain that I was having so that my "quality of life" would be as good as possible. 

My Quality Of Life....I've heard that phrase so many times now it rings in my head daily, especially now that I actually have those nasty side effects that we were told about from the radiation. Evidently I got ALL of them, plus a nasty wound the size of my hand covering my butthole and even going inside it, that up until about a month ago was not healing at all, causing massive pain to the point that I'm now on enough opioids to anesthetize a whale, and keeping me from doing pretty much everything except laying in my bed. Not sitting, laying, because I couldn't ...still cant...sit down in a normal chair without pain. This wound got so bad that every Dr that saw it would tell me they had never seen anything like it, including the radiation Dr at the Cleveland Clinic. 

Again...getting ahead of myself...there is so much to say I don't think Ill get it all out before I have to stop writing today. 

When we left Cleveland I came home in a cloud of sadness unlike I have ever experienced. We were about to go into summer. I had to get a port installed in my body to be able to administer chemo right away because it was/is such an aggressive cancer I HAD to start chemo ASAP. I HAD to get on the schedule at Emory NOW NOW NOW! I HAD to do these things NOW because my life was on the line, but all I kept thinking about was my "Quality of Life". 

What kind of quality would I have hooked up to a bag of poison every other week? It was the end of May, and the side effects of the radiation were starting to show through...when I say show through I mean literally through as in that beam burned me straight through and out my butthole. 

I didn't want to start ANYTHING, and after the radiation was starting to get bad, was seriously considering not doing anything else. No chemo at all. I didn't feel like I was dying and was afraid if I wasted this precious time where I did feel OK then decided to stop later if it became too much, I would have wasted the last chance I had to do anything while my body still felt half way normal. 

Well as it turned out, I went through wit it, starting the first week of June. The first session was awful. I was in so much pain in my rectum I could not even stand or walk when I got to the cancer center in Midtown. My friend Tiffany took me to that first session. She sat there looking helpless while I was wailing and crying in pain. 

They finally hooked me up and sent me home after what seemed like the longest day ever, and I still didnt know what was causing the pain so I just assumed it was something to do with the cancer itself. WRONG - the radiation. 

The next week was my birthday and Id been getting progressively worse, so finally on my actual birthday I got a call from my assigned oncologist (which I did NOT care for at all) who told me I needed to pack a bag and check myself into the oncology urgent care unit at Emory Winship Midtown. I started to bawl. I started to panic. I started to just give up. 

I didn't give up though. I went. So happy birthday to me, I got to be in the hospital on my birthday and ended up staying there a week.  

Things would just get worse from there. All summer my wound festered and finally went narcotic after no one could fined a solution other than having ostomy surgery (which I flatly refused and now I'm SO glad I did) until finally after ASKING to be put in touch with wound care and seeing their hyperbaric treatment pods and asking what they were for, was recommended to receive hyperbaric treatment for the wound. 

It was the end of September, and after trying to do both chemo and the hyperbaric treatment at the same time, decided that the wound was NEVER going to heal if I was actively doing chemo...something that again I had to deduce myself because no Dr was telling me this...decided to stop the cancer chemo treatment and focus on healing this horrible wound that kept me in my house and bed all summer long. I couldn't even go swimming. I couldn't go for a walk. I couldn't do ANYTHING. There simply was zero Quality of Life. 

Its now the last day of the year. At the beginning of December I had an MRI and CT scan to see where the cancer was. At the time Id been off chemo for 2 months. Now it has been 3. The scans were not good news. The cancer is now in my liver and Sacrum (tailbone). There were 2 spots on my liver and a "suspicious" spot on the tailbone plus more growth in my lungs. 2 months...that's all, and that's how much it had already spread. I'm sure it has spread more now, and truthfully I have been putting off starting chemo again in spite of knowing that because my wound is SO CLOSE to being healed and I'm afraid if I start again before it does that I'll be right back where I was before. Regardless, I know if I want to see anything close to 5 years I have to start again, so Monday January 5th is the day. 

I was supposed to start yesterday, but asked to change it and now I am about to stop writing to go get in the shower as I have New Years Eve plans. 

Its with the same people as last year, the same house, but with more friends that I've made through pinball coming this time. 

There's so much I need to say about these people. These WONDERFUL people that have been so supportive of me through this. I have truly made some life long connections and even though I had some rough spots with a couple of them over the summer, its still an incredible gift that I have these people in my life. 

One person in particular I must say something about is Gwenn. Our friendship was always a miracle under the circumstances, but I am SO glad to have her in my life. She is truly a blessing and a gift. And my sister, Elise the only one I have left now because Beth died in July...(yes Beth is gone, which is another whole post by itself that I will definitely get to). Elise has always come to my rescue. Always. I wish I had been closer to her over the years but if this horrible disease has given me one positive thing its her. We are closer now than we have ever been and I am so grateful for her. I have not treated her well over the years. My jealousy of her incredible life has gotten in my way in the past I think. Seeing her sacrifice so much these past 7 months just to try and save me is something I cant describe. Its just incredible. I love these people, and even though I may not ever have the real love of a man in my world I can say without a doubt that I finally know what it feels like to be truly loved. THAT is Quality of Life. 

These people ARE my QUALITY OF LIFE. So I'm going now to get ready but I know I wont neglect this dairy anymore. There is a lot more I need to say and I need to say it NOW while I still can. Death is a very real scenario for me now and, if I don't pay attention to it its going to grab me and I'm simply not done yet. 

Every year I try to project what I want to make of the coming year. I am at a loss right now except to say I want to LIVE and I want my QUALIT OF LIFE to improve. I want pinball back. I want my friends back. I want my life back even if its always attached to a chemo pump. I am not done yet...I am NOT DONE YET!! 

I AM NOT DONE YET!!!

New Year’s Eve 2024 - TIME

Here it is. New Year’s Eve once again. Where has the time gone?

 

Obviously I didn’t get back to the blog again after April, and I wish I had. I always do because I end up having to relive all of it on the last day of the year.

 

It seems like I never have enough time to do it. Actually lately it seems like I never have enough time for anything much other than pinball things. Seriously, I get up at 7:00 and the next thing I know it’s the afternoon and none of the things I wanted to accomplish have been done.

 

A lot of this is coming from disorganization on my part, which is very frustrating and unlike me. Or I guess the ME I used to be when my life was only about ME.

 

Crystal has been (or had been) coming 4 or 5 days a week, staying over a couple of nights and taking care of mom, but even with that I don’t seem to have time for anything. She’s gone now by the way. She took off in October to work for FEMA and has not come back so the last few months have been pure hell as far as “time” goes.

 

Before she left there were tensions growing though. She had become extremely comfortable in her surroundings and I began to regret hiring a friend vs someone that was strictly an employee. She started taking advantage of some things. Doing less “work” and complaining about wanting more money, which she knew from the beginning was impossible. My mom can’t afford to pay ME, so she’s certainly not getting extra cash.

 

I guess it’s a moot point now because as I said, she’s gone. It may not be permanent but I am actively trying to hire someone else. TRYING. It’s harder than it should be.

Just finding a person that you are mildly comfortable with is one thing. But then it’s getting them approved and all that stuff. It’s the TIME that I am seemingly unable to take to get these steps done.

 

I would say that I’m spending too much of my time playing and running pinball tournaments, but that’s not entirely true. I play once a week most weeks and 2 times a week twice a month. That’s it. I do go out and play here and there at Melt Yard (my new My Parents Basement!) but that’s probably once a week if that.

 

I started running a monthly tournament on the second Saturday each month at Melt Yard in March. It was a HUGE deal for me as I’d never been in charge of a “big” open tournament before. I also started making trophies somewhere in May I think and since then those things have taken up a LOT of time. More than anyone knows I am sure. One of them takes about 8 hours to make, not to mention the cost of them materials wise, and I’m just giving them away.

 

It’s part of my thing now though so I feel like I’m stuck with it. Wes, the guy who owns most of the machines at Melt Yard told me recently that they didn’t matter, and people would come anyway, but I know for a fact that some people have come just to get a chance to win one.

 

I’m proud of that. I like knowing something that I’ve made such a huge effort to create is so neat that people want it. The down side is, I have so many other more important things that I really HAVE to focus on all of which are getting pushed to the side because this one tournament a month has become the most important thing in my life. Seriously.

 

Why is that? Well, it’s the first thing in a very long time that has made me feel important. It’s made me feel like I am “popular”, possibly even genuinely well-liked. People recognize me, and even want my opinions about tournaments and other pinball related things. I even got asked to dinner by a huge crush of mine (a really well known player) after one of the monthly ones. It didn’t go anywhere (and I still would love to know exactly why) but I was so flattered that I was on cloud 9 even when I knew at the end of the ”date” that he had changed his mind.

 

My women’s group has grown too, and that also makes me very proud. It’s been weird having people come to me and praise my “leadership”. I’ve never been the leader of anything. No one asks my opinion or cares what I think. Now I walk into Melt Yard and the bartenders make my drink because they all know it by heart. The owners think I’m wonderful and are grateful for the all day tournament business. It’s the best feeling in the world.

 

This is a very new sensation to me, and I have found myself guarding it closely. I have even recognized that I am jealous and paranoid about other people getting involved, even if it would genuinely help me out, because I am scared they might take it away from me.

 

A great example is a fellow Belle that out of nowhere started up a bi-monthly Wednesday night tournament. She came to me for help getting it started, and I welcomed the opportunity, but now that tournament is probably more popular than mine is, and I am genuinely jealous of her for that.

 

I mean it’s a different format and different people come. Mine takes all day long to do, and hers is 2 ½ hours of your life on a Wednesday night. So they both have their appeal for different reasons.

 

This lady is a go getter for sure, but in a really strange way. She claims to be very recluse and such, as most of us are outside our comfort zone, and she did need my help at first. I guess I thought I would always somehow be involved because at first that was how she approached me with it. That we could take turns being TD so no one would have to commit to it every other Wednesday. I was hesitant at first and so this is probably my own fault, but now I WANT to do it by myself and its too late for that. She’s in.

 

The thing is she SHOULD be in.  There’s nothing wrong with her wanting to be more involved with pinball things and I need to chill. She asked me before about being more involved and I didn’t really do anything about it so I guess she just did it for herself.

 

Also, I CANT do everything. I mean I do so much with it now it’s literally like a full time job that I don’t get paid for. I wish I did. I am in love with the whole thing. I also recognize that I will likely never be a “pinball wizard” so to me, the thing I CAN do is put on great tournaments. That and getting more women involved has become my obsession.

 

I am trying to humble myself and get back to learning more about it. My hope is to be asked to help with Southern Fried Game Expo again. I did get asked to do a women’s tournament this past year but after a serious lack of communication from the guy they chose to run it, I backed out. Now I wish I had not. I do need to learn more, and I am no longer shy about asking questions. I know where I need work. My ability to stand up to these guys when I make a call that they don’t agree with is lacking. I end up questioning myself and that makes me look like I don’t know what I’m doing. I want to change that, and will HAVE to if I ever want to really do bigger things, and I DO!

 

This is all so foreign to me. I can’t remember ever being so involved with a thing that I am motivated to put everything else aside to make it better. Well maybe my weight, but that’s a lifetime career not a “hobby”.

 

Speaking of which, I have an AMAZING announcement to make. I am, for the first time in my adult life, (actually since I was in the 8^th grade, which is the earliest memory I have of tracking my weight outside of a doctors office) that I am UNDER 200 lbs.

 

How did I accomplish this? Well, I wish I could say it was from all the hard work, healthy eating, and exercise that I needed to do to get to my now seemingly stable weight of 196-198, but the truth is I paid for it. AM paying for it, to the tune of $550 per month. It’s truly a miracle drug. Mounjaro / Zepbound has literally changed my life. I mean when I say it’s easy it is EASY. I have not exercised, or even tried to change my eating habits. I know I HAVE change them, but I still binge, eat fries when I want to, and drink just as much as I ever have, if not more. Yet the pounds still came off. I don’t know what it has triggered in my brain but I do know it’s a miracle, and the entire world should be able to benefit from it for FREE. But of course, since the world is actually run by pharmaceutical and insurance companies, that will probably not happen in my lifetime.

It’s something that I genuinely NEED to be NORMAL.

 

Sadly I have no idea how long I can keep it up. Financially it’s crippling me. I have made I think less than $3,000 this entire year. I am down to bout 20K in my retirement funds, having sold off things 2 times this year to just have any money at all in my checking account.

 

My mom is finally giving me some money per month but it’s not nearly enough. Work? What’s that?? HA! Between taking care of my mom and pinball I am busy 24/7. I also love my pinball life and feel like if I back off I will lose the first thing I’ve ever really felt like I  am genuinely a part of, and not just on the outside looking in.

 

So what do I do about it? Well, for starters I HAVE to get refocused on income. I have thought about what to do over and over and the idea of getting an office job ( even if I could which is doubtful) is horrifying. I am A PHOTOGRAPHER. It’s something that I AM good at when I do it. What I’m not good at is business. This is not new news. I know my shortcomings, but I also feel like I just have NO TIME!

 

Several weeks ago I started redoing my website. The idea being that I am going to do ANY type of photography, not just real estate / architecture. I used to be very shy about taking people photos, but I think I am over that now. That’s another area where pinball has helped me. I am no longer shy about getting peoples pictures. What I am, however, is lazy.

 

I have been thinking about doing a project about pinball. Taking pictures of machines close up, and people. Putting it together somehow and selling it. I even have a new friend interested in doing the writing part, calling it Pinball Is LIFE. It really has become my life.

 

It could be worse. I could be obsessed about some guy or my weight. The usual. It’s refreshing to say that at this moment in time…I think for the first time EVER… I am not worried about how I’m going to lose weight and get healthy in the New Year. I’m already there. I mean yes, I do need to exercise because I know I’d feel better overall, and my body is actually at the point where it’s stuck. Rightly so. It’s not used to being this weight, and as my lifetime of failures have shown, it typically fights me the whole way, both mentally and physically. So it’s not surprising to me that Im stuck at 198 ish. I also know doing the right changes and exercise will likely be the push I need to get down to 180 (I literally can’t imagine that) which is where my PCP wants me to be.

 

Also, there is a dark side. Of course. People who have lost all this weight then stopped taking it have gained it back. Especially if you haven’t gotten in shape and established a good exercise routine. I know that from personal experience. Being fit helps everything, so yes that is something I want to work back into my life.

Franky if I don’t I know it’s going to backfire on me, and I will end up right back where I was at the beginning of this year. 240lbs and miserable.

 

I CANT ALLOW THAT.

 

Looking back, the last New Years Eve that I really enjoyed was 2018 /2019. Before Ray…Before COVID…Before moving…Before losing the business that I had built. I went out that night by myself and really enjoyed it. I went into 2019 with a new attitude and was genuinely making a real effort again. Things were looking up!

Then I met Ray, and it all fell apart. I don’t blame him. He didn’t force me to eat, or not exercise, or sell my house. But he also was a shitty person, and he drug me down in a sly way that I didn’t even see happening until I was already in the pit.

 

I did hear from him finally. I got a text on my birthday saying “happy birthday” from an unknown number. I ignored it. Then a week later the same number sent me a link to a new Mutemath song, and then I knew it was him, and blocked it. Nothing since though.

 

I have thought about showing up at the racetrack on a Friday around the time he goes to buy lottery tickets just to let him see me now, but that would be pointless. I do not miss him at all.

 

Sure I’m lonely and still want to be in a relationship. I still want to experience that love that some people are so lucky to have, even if it’s only for a little while. I get reminded of that more often than I would like, and sometimes in ways that are horrible.

 

Barbara Steele. A wonderful human being. A family friend that I met because of my parents. A lady that out of all my parents’ friends, has genuinely been here to help me out since I’ve moved. Plus just an all-around happy person, that has…had…that type of relationship with her husband, Tom.

She died Sunday. She was ill but not for very long, and it was all a very shocking whirlwind of hospitals, misdiagnosis, and then death. Tom, I know is devastated like my mom was. Still is.

 

I don’t know why people like that have to be taken from the world when there are so many horrible people left in it.

 

This year I have been reminded no less than 3 times of the importance of time when it comes to how you spend it, and who you spend it with. Life goes on between the losses, and you sit in it for a minute, thinking of the changes you need to make in order to get that thing you want. Then you go on with life making these changes (or not) only to realize that this thing…love… is the one thing you can’t control.

 

I can lose 100lbs, get a face lift, win a million dollars and none of that would bring that one person to me. I mean would it help to be thinner, younger looking (or just younger), and financially stable to the point that you could take care of someone else if they were poor but you loved them anyway? Absolutely. But it still wouldn’t help me actually find him. That can only be achieved by putting myself out there…again.

 

I’m doing it. I HAVE to. I’m surrounded by men playing pinball but they are all married or way too young for me, so I’m going to have to go back into the pool. It’s a nasty place that pool, and I really do not relish the idea of it at all, but I don’t see any other way to meet new people.

 

I did meet one person, (well 2 but the second one was so brief and messy it’s hardly worth mentioning) named Kevin, who just happens to be one of the kindest, most giving, loving, people (but is also biggest doormat) I’ve ever met.

 

I saw in my reading over the past years posts that I mentioned him, and even then I said that he seemed really needy and we had not even met yet. I hate that I don’t like him for more than a friend, because he would do anything in his power to make me happy. I KNOW he would. He has stepped up to help me in more ways with my mom in the past few months than my own family. I just don’t feel the way about him that he feels about me, and I have TRIED!

 

In any case, I know the path I have to take is to get back into the dating cesspool that I loathe.  I do feel like I am going in with more confidence than ever before. In spite of my age and not so young looks, and even my saggy skin, I feel like I can go for men that are NOT total losers and maybe this time have a shot.

 

All I really want is a NORMAL person. Someone that at the age of 45 or older is financially stable enough to live by himself, be able to take me places and not complain about money or go into debt to do it, NOT be a drunk or drug addict or such an asshole that I become the doormat again.(NOT GOING THERE EVER AGAIN!) and just lives a normal average life. Hopefully likes pinball too because that’s my thing now and I don’t see that ever changing. Too much to ask?  NO its not.

 

I just need to start saying NO to people that I know when I meet them are not going to work out. I should have done that with Kevin from the beginning. I tried SO HARD to like him but it’s just not there. Ironically I can see myself in him so much. The way I used to pay for things I couldn’t afford, and do whatever I thought the guy I was crazy about wanted. It’s me 100% 12 years ago with Mike. Mike and EVERY other guy I’ve ever been crazy about.

 

I see it now because I’m on the other side of it. It becomes very easy to take advantage of a situation like that, even if you think you’re not that kind of person, you find yourself in a bind and you know all you need to do is ask and he will be right there to help. I hate that I have to admit I have done that with Kevin but I have. I’m not proud of it and I’m quitting it like an addiction to crack because it’s not healthy for me or him. Plus since I KNOW what it feels like I think it’s shitty and I don’t want to be a shitty person.

 

I’m going to a party tonight. I’ve been invited to a new pinball person’s house. Another first for me. I know I will enjoy it, even though I wish I could be going with a date, (and invited Kevin and that he will probably end up giving me a ride home so I don’t have to take UBER) I am happy that they WANTED me there. It’s such a new world for me, or can be if I just don’t fuck it up.

 

I miss Barb. I miss Scott. I still can’t believe they are both gone. Scott for almost a year. Barb not even a week. Both of them good people with good friends that cared deeply for them even if they didn’t know it.

 

 I hope when I die that the same can be said about me. I think that will be my goal for this year. In a world where there is so much uncertainty it’s not a farfetched idea that we all will be gone sooner than later.

 

I want to be remembered as a good person, a good photographer, a decent pinball player, and a great tournament director that got women involved in pinball in ways that they had never been before. It really has been life changing for me, and that’s what I want to share with the world. Hopefully, not by myself.

 

Happy New Year. 

Spring has Sprung, but the flowers are Gone

Its a beautiful Saturday morning.

I am sitting at my upstairs den desk which looks out a window. The view from here is nice. I can see the blue sky, the trees leafing out, and the dogwood right outside the window in full bloom.

I put this here when I moved to give my heart a little reminder of my mornings at my little Decatur house. Every morning I had a routine.

Get up, let the dog out, feed the pup, make my tea, start some boiled eggs, and go sit in my office. 

My office was a central room in the back of the house, and pretty much the entire exterior wall was windows. My yard was huge, and at this time of year the Azalais that my dad bought for me years and years ago would be blooming their heads off.

I had 21 Oak trees in my yard, mostly in the back. In the spring, as the leaves were coming in it would be a mess. (tree sperm ick!) but the end of that was a gorgeous canopy of old growth trees that blocked out everything ugly that was around me. 

I miss that view. I miss my home. The only real home I ever had in my heart. I miss my life, my work, my body, my self control. 

Where did it all go? How could I have neglected to appreciate it all when it was mine?

Technology, the kind that did no even exist when I first bought my home in 2003, now allows us to not only take a quick photo on the fly, but to be able to look back on them in an instant. The ease of this sometimes is too much for me because I still get very melancholy when I see my home. 

When I sold it to Ted Waters in January of 2021, as heartbroken as I was to see it go, I was also glad that HE was the one to get it. Ted was not someone that I knew well, or really at all, but my old neighbor, Luke Simpson, knew him well, and evidently Ted had been over there at a party once and wandered over to my side of the fence. This had to be the party of all parties that I threw at Christmas in 2009.  half of Decatur showed up. It was principally at my house, but Luke had made a gate between our houses and he had "Lukies Bar" in the separate garage out behind his house, so people were going back and forth. I cant think of any other time that he would have been over there. In any case, when I sold it, and we were in the parking lot after closing, I finally got to meet him. It was deep Covid 19 time so the closing papers were signed by me on the front porch of the law office, while he and his agent were inside. 

As I sat in my car bawling and thinking "what have I done?" he came out over to the car window and said |that house will always be yours, and you can come visit any time you like". It made my heart feel good that he got it because he said he loved it just the way it was. He had no plans to change anything. 

3 years later, on the morning of the Georgia State Women's Pinball Championships, I got a text from my old neighbor asking me to call her. I was literally just starting to play and asked if it was important. She said its about Ted.

I knew it couldn't be good, but I also had a little hope that maybe in some crazy world he was talking about selling it back to me. I know...a really crazy thought. I was not at all prepared to hear what she was about to say when I called her back a few minutes later.

January was terribly cold and temperatures that morning were so low that ice was all over anything that had the least bit of moisture on it. I think it had dipped to 17 degrees overnight, and wasn't much warmer even after the sun came up.

Evidently Ted had been on the front stoop, which didn't have a railing, and fallen off it sometime the night before. He had severely broken his leg. A compound fracture that had actually broken the skin. I know this because they said when they found him outside his car, they saw a trail of blood from where he had fallen, to where he had drug himself to his car, and the handprint on the door indicated that he had tried to get inside. Maybe to honk the horn? We will never know because he froze to death.

It was so shocking to hear this news. Not just that he had died, but frozen while laying in MY front yard. Horrible. I thought about how happy he had been that morning when I last saw him. He really did love that house. 

Part of why I had never been back was because I thought, like most do when they move in to a new place , he would have changed things to his liking and I couldn't bear to see that. I woke up this morning thinking about my home. I knew that nit had been put up for sale again and had resisted looking at it on line. I didn't want to see the changes he had surely made. I just now looked. it has indeed been sold, and for 72K more than I got for it. That upset me in general, but then I saw the pictures. 

Shitty pictures taken with a cell phone of the empty house. It was hard to look at them, but he told the truth. He didn't change a thing. It was my old house with all the same colors Id finally gotten to paint in 2018. I started to cry with that ache of longing in my heart you get when you miss something or someone so much that its physically painful. Then I saw the back yard pictures. Whoever took over the property, assuming one of his kids, had clear cut EVERYTHING down. All the Hydrangeas... god those were BEAUTIFUL in the summer, one of which was given to me by Andy and Jason as a house warming gift when I moved in...gone...and the Azalais that my dad bought for me...gone... everything is just gone. 

I sat here and just cried. I don't know if I thought that somehow Id end up back there one day, or that somehow I could just miraculously will myself back in time to make the RIGHT decision NOT to sell it, but that feeling of longing has now been replaced by just a sad empty hole. 

I certainly don't have the money to buy a house now, and its worth so much more than it was 3 years ago I wouldn't  have been able to buy it back regardless. 

Someone new will occupy it soon, either that or a builder is going to go in and redo it entirely then sell it for 300K or more. Then it really wont ever be mine again. Not even in spirit. 

When I sat down here this morning to write and listen to my Zen playlist just like I used to do....looking out that back window, a cup of tea steaming in the chilly morning air, and Gabby sitting in her bed in the green chair next to my desk...I didn't think Id be writing about this. I was going to write about the changes going on in my world of Pinball and life in general, but the view and the music sent my mid back to that place I loved so much, so I did the thing I said I wouldn't do. I looked. 

I guess looking back is not always a good idea, especially when you are unhappy in your current state. I want so much to be able to move forward with my life. I feel like I've spent so much time looking back at things that I am stuck. I don't know HOW to move forward, and I keep making huge, life changing mistakes. 

The thing is, I felt this way at Longshore too, and I know it. I can look back and miss it, but I had the same issues there, well, some, that I do here. I spent years regretting buying that house when I first got there, and back then I would dream about the 2 years I spent in the tiny carriage house that I also loved and missed, thinking that buying that house was a huge mistake. Clearly it wasn't, and I can se that now. 

I have a new view in the morning. Ill never have that old one again, and I need to learn to look back in appreciation, not sadness. I need to embrace this one because its all I've got, and while it is different, its still pretty nice.

What I do not want is to be sitting in yet another new view 20 years from now...(god Ill be 73 years old, about the age Ted was when he bought that house from me) writing about how much I regret losing THIS house. Either from having to sell it because I can't afford it, or because I'm too old and my body is too fucked up to be able to keep it up the way it should be kept. I have to make changes. Big ones, or that's exactly what is going to happen.

God, or whatever may be out there listening, please let me do it. PLEASE help me to pull it together and find a direction. I'm so tired of looking back in sadness and regret. I want memories that make me happy and proud. 

I have to till a NEW garden, so my view will always be good and the flowers will always be blooming and so when I look at it I know that no one can take it away from me ever again. 

help.

A Winning Perspective

 Everyone wants to "win" at something. Even the most non-competitive person feels good when they excel at something weather they want to admit it or not. 

For the longest time my wins came from weight loss. No matter what else I did in my life, if that was not going well, nothing else could happen. 

I had wins but looking back they were all overshadowed by my weight. Back in 2012, when I had the "click" that allowed me to keep going day after day to the gym, change my eating habits, and finally see real change in my body, I still didn't feel like a winner. 

After having skin removal surgery, while I felt better and certainly looked better, I think I was waiting for some magical feeling of winning. It never really came. 

Oh I had small victories, some of which were VERY satisfying. 

I recall one in particular, a few months after my first, and most drastic skin surgery. I was at The Corner Pub with Jennifer Harris/Hart when these 2 guys, Mark (who Jenn had dated years before this), and Jason (whos parents actually owned the house on Longshore before I bought it from them) came up the stairs and as soon as they saw us came over. 

Now, to understand this next part you need to know that historically hanging out with Jennifer meant every man within a 50 mile radius would come in flocks to be around her. Jennifer is a really beautiful woman. Tiny, thin, beautiful long thick blonde hair, great body. Plus she's a firecracker (appropriately her birthday is on July 4th!), so when  the guys came over and starting oohing and awing at ME, it took me a minute to realize what was happening. 

For the first time...and probably the only time since, these dudes were not just acknowledging me, they were all over me! Mark in particular was laying it on thick. 

Was I flattered, or happy, or even receptive to this attention? No, I wasn't. Why? Because before he started dating Jen, I had a crush on him, and he wouldn't give me the time of day. In fact, he sort of used me to get closer to Jen, which was something I recall feeling a bit heart sick over.

So I sat there, letting him flirt and try his best to get my attention. The attitude was huge, the confidence was massive. He KNEW he could have me, right? 

WRONG! After...oh...20 minutes or so of this going on, and him getting more and more into my personal space, I finally said, "Mark, let me set you straight on something, YOU are NEVER going to have THIS!" as I gestured to myself. 

Jason almost fell out of his chair laughing so hard. Jennifer spit her drink out and joined in, and Mark, well, that may have been the only time in his life up to that point that he had experienced that kind of rejection. 

At that moment I felt a kind of satisfaction that I had never felt before, and probably never since. A real WIN. But was it really a win, or was it more of a FUCK YOU? It depends on how you look it it.

After that I think a part of me expected more of that kind of WOW factor, but I didn't get it. People get used to you being a certain way, and when you change that dynamic, it makes them very uncomfortable. That goes for friends and family. Even if you don't mean to be hurtful, acknowledgments of ones success can sometimes come across as condescending, thereby taking the compliment part away from it.

Its the way we perceive things as individuals that gives us winning moments most of the time. 

The phrase, "Take the win" comes to mind, because that in itself is perspective. 

You can take the small steps and turn them into a win if you put into a certain perspective, and in doing so, change your heart, your mind and your life. 

I have lived in a negative world most of my life. My wins, or perceived wins have been hard earned and even harder to convince myself of most of the time. 

Its like pinball. The ladies league I stared with Meri P.  2-1/2 years ago seems like a win from the very beginning. Just getting new people to come was a big task, and one that I was very hesitant to take on.

 It pretty obvious that I'm not a very outgoing person, nor am I the first one to jump in to something. I have also never considered myself to be a leader in any way. This women's group though, this whole pinball thing actually, has sparked a fire in me that I honestly didn't know I even had. 

At first it was so hard to make myself even go to the meets, but since I started it, and was leading it with Meri, I HAD to go. Unlike back in Decatur, if I didn't feel like going to Belles and Chimes I just didn't go. Even then though, I loved the pinball part so much I found myself going, more than not.

 I didn't know anyone but MG, who introduced me to it but rarely came herself. The few ladies there that would speak to me were not very friendly save one, Tina. But I came anyway. that was 2018, the year I was in Mike D recovery. Well, men recovery, or maybe even Life recovery. So I went. I made myself go by myself. I guess that did make it a little easier to go up here in a way, but at the same time, I was jumping into something completely unknown, and being a LEADER. 

Meri over the last year or so has come to fewer and fewer meets, so her role has become more in the background, but I have blossomed into a full on BOSS! 

This is a definite win for me, perspective or not, and its something I have become very proud of. Its not about the acknowledgement that has come from leading this group recently, its from the feeling that I am really in charge and that I really did build this. I have poured everything I have into it, and I want to keep it going, so when things that rock the boat begin to happen it really upsets me, and I would like that to stop.

There is one person that seems to be rocking the boat, and while I would normally appreciate the offer of help, I do not want it from her. She doesn't want to help, she wants to take over, and its taking the WIN out of all of it for me. 

For a while now, I have been stewing over this person and their constant meddling, and I really need to just  let it go. She has wormed her way into the lives of the owners of the place we play once a week, one of which I really thought was my friend, and it is really starting to get to me. 

Its one thing to step up to help, its quite another to attempt a hostile takeover, especially when Bryan is so far up her ass he cant see straight or maybe its the other way around. Either way it has turned what used to be the best night of the week for me into something I often dread, especially if I personally don't do well. 

Last year before she joined us I was on a winning streak. I went from 15th or so in the state women's rankings to 1st an stayed there until July. I was not dethroned by her, but she was getting increasingly better, something I usually applaud in anyone that has joined the group, but with her, its just a bitter pill to swallow. 

I started not doing as well toward the end of the year as she started doing a lot better, often taking the win and leaving me far far down the list. It stinks to lose at something you love and really WANT to be good at. But its so much worse to be beaten by someone you really cant stand. 

I have been trying to keep it in perspective, but my brain has more times than not taken it to a place that's just unnecessary. A good example is our weekly Belles and Chimes meet last night.

On the way there I was thinking that I needed to stop with all the bitter feelings about this person, and told myself I HAD to let it go because the annoyance I was allowing in from her bad vibes was starting to take the joy out of this for me. Yes she's gotten good...REALLY good, but the fact is she's worked at it and that's the bottom line. Pinball is not something you can fake. You can either play or you cant. Yes there are always good and bad nights even for the experts, but there are skills to be learned and every machine has its story to tell. If you don't know that story you wont do as well, even if you can make  shots and keep the ball alive. So in the spirit of trying to let it go, I told myself I would NOT let her get to me, and I was not going to look at the scores all night just because I figured she would probably win anyway. 

My streak has  not been so good this year so far, and its my own fault. I'm not slowing down and giving things thought, AND I feel like part of that is her bad vibe that I have been letting in. 

I arrived right at 7:00 and was bombarded by her first thing. I was late (well on time) but of course shew had taken over. 

Instead of being irritated I took a breath and just took the control back. From that moment on, I was in a zone. I had already decided I was not going to drink anything which I never do, so that relaxing agent was not there. In spite of that, I was having a good night, and I was winning...a lot! 

At some point I realized we were not progressing as we normally do. Taking longer to finish rounds and even having to push people along, her especially, between rounds to get more in. 

The more rounds you get in, the better the point value is, especially for the top 3. 

I finally checked the standings and saw that I was leading but we were running out of time and 2 rounds away from where we really should have been. Then it occurred to me that this lady was actually causing delays on purpose because she, for once, was at the bottom of the pack. 

This nugget of negativity bloomed BIG, and as soon as it did, I felt that tightness in my stomach. This time however, instead of fostering it and getting myself upset, I let it go. 

Yes, I do think she was doing it on purpose because I was in 1st place, but the bottom line is, I had a choice to make. I could either take this win and enjoy it, even knowing it could have yielded more points, or let her take it away from me by sucking the joy out of all of it.

I chose the win, and I was smiling all the way home. 

Was it a huge victory? 

Yes and no. It depends on your perspective.  

In the pinball world it could have been better because of points, but from my perspective it was a HUGE YES because I had overcome that nasty negative vibe that just radiates from this person, and took my win. 

1st place and beyond!

Oh Mojo Oh Mojo, where for art there Mojo?

I have been a real Debbie Downer recently. Absorbed in my own world of troubles. 

A friend that I saw on Friday reminded me that forcing a smile when you are down actually lifts your mood without even thinking about it. 

I'm going to try to get that positive vibe going again. No matter what my circumstances are, its only made worse by being negative. 

Also, I AM going to get myself into a routine. I miss my routine. I see "fakebook memories" and every day my gym check ins from 12 years ago pop up. I was so there. I was so in it.

In some ways I'm back in that position as far as finances go. Pre-photo business and on unemployment from the horrible Engineering firm job lay off, I had a lot of time on my hands. I made good use of it though. 

I remember my routine. I remember the things I gave up and how much I gained in good mental health from giving those things up. 

Looking back at things like that have always made me long for that past. I have to stop doing that. My life will never be like that again and the sooner I can stop wishing for the past to repeat itself the sooner I can step into my future.

What that future is I have no idea. 

I have put myself out there again dating wise. I'm not really enthusiastic about it and already have a guy on the hook that I kind of like but kind of don't. We haven't even met yet or spoken on the phone and he's already making me feel like he is needy. 

I want to strong, independent, financially secure man that I am also attracted to physically and mentally.

Tall order at 53.

Maybe its not a good idea to try to meet someone now. Part of me thinks that I need to get my routine back and focus on that and making money. Another part is screaming I'm lonely and shouldn't waste precious time waiting for myself to get back into shape and feel good about my looks again. 

The truth is no matter how much weight I lose my neck will forever make me look 10 years older than I actually am, and there is no fixing that unless I have plastic surgery, which I cant afford. having those surgeries years ago was such a gift, and although I feel like I was never given the opportunity to really enjoy it before the rest of my life fell apart with dad getting sick, I do feel better about my body. Even now with weight gain and no muscle tone, its still far far better than it was.

Muscle. That's what I need, and guess what? Its free. It only costs time, which I will have if I can get myself organized and stick to a routine.

Day one of how many? Hopefully the rest of my life how ever long that ends up being. 

 

What Do I Do Now?

Out of time. Our of money. Out of luck. 

That's how I feel right now. 

Crystal coming in since January has been a HUGE relief, especially since neither of my sisters is ever very helpful in that area. 

Her being here has allowed me to have an actual weekend for the first time in 3 years. I highly doubt either of my sisters ever even stops to think about that. They just think I'm up here in a nice house with free room and board and that should be enough. Its not. 

After seeing the work Crystal does, I realize just how much work I do, and have been doing, without getting paid for it. The conversation I want to have with Elise it this. I need to be paid something each month, because even if we had help in 7 days a week, its only for 8 hours a day. Who does the work the other 8? Me. 

Over the summer I stopped paying for things. As in groceries and things the house needs. I never paid for all of it, but at least half. When my bank account finally slipped down so low I literally couldn't afford to buy anything, I told Elise I was not going to be paying for groceries anymore. I don't know how she felt about that, but frankly I don't care. What was interesting though, was in about 2 months she was flipping out about the amount of money that was suddenly being spent. She said I needed to stick to a budget, etc. Well, guess what? All that extra money is what I have been spending for the last 3 years. Pitching in. Doing my part. Whatever. I do way more than my part.

She says there is not enough money in moms monthly budget to pay me anything. That's hard for me to swallow when the church gets $960 a month from her. I also get that she want to tithe, but how is that right when the person who's actually sacrificing the rest of their mid life to keep her in this house and getting nothing but room and board for it?

When Crystal started coming in, Elise suggested I have her come during the week so that I can work. That alone tells me just how clueless she is to my situation. 

I NEED A FUCKING WEEKEND JUST LIKE YOU ELISE!!! That's what she always used as an excuse not to have mom at her house all weekend to give me a break. SHE needed a day off. HA!

Do I not deserve time off? Is taking care of my aging parent 24/7 not a job? 

What's worse is that even if I wanted to bail on all this, now I cant. I'm stuck just like an indentured servant because I HAVE NO MONEY! 3 years of paying for this and that and yes some things that were just fun stuff and not necessary, but 90% went straight to this house. 

I want to have a conversation with Elise about this but I already know what the outcome is going to be. She will tell me its not in the budget, and that I need to go get a job. 

Walmart here I come! But wait, with my 40 hours a week at my fine new Walmart job, who's going to take care of mom? Oh yes! Her long term health care policy will pay for Crystal to come in every day of the week for 8 hours a day.

But wait, doesn't SHE need a weekend too? OK, sure, so we hire another person to fill in the other 2 days a week so Crystal can have a weekend. So mom has care for 8 hours a day, 7 days a week while I'm at work, and on my weekend during the day. 

So who takes care of her after that 8 hours? ME. For room and board. 

Id like to see Elise and Beth even TRY to do this for a month. WITH NO HELP. They would never make it. After all, Elise did say years ago, "I will not sacrifice the rest of my life to go live with mom". So maybe in the back of her mind she does "get it", enough to not want to do it anyway.

I know this was my choice, and I don't regret it. If I had not made this choice I feel certain mom would be in some facility by now. 

I also know that should mom not have the need to sell this house that I will inherit it upon her death, but I wont be able to keep it if I have no money. Yes I can sell it but that was never the goal. Even if that happens between the capitol gains and fees I will likely walk away with maybe $300K. That's a lot you say? Not really. I will have to buy another house. Smaller, cheaper of course. Probably in the 200-250K range when its all said and done. So what, I'll be left with 50K-100K and a paid off house. 

My old house had 70K left on the mortgage, and would have been paid off in 9 years. If I had not listened to Elise's advice and kept it to rent it out, I would have not only been able to pay the mortgage, but save money monthly for repairs and actually have had a small income all this time. Then at the end of 9 years, being paid off, Id be able to move back in, or sell it, and by then the price of that little house would have been a lot different. 

Lets do the math shall we?

Its been 3 years. 6 more years to have that house paid off. I HOPE mom will still be alive in 6 years, but she's also turning 85 this year, and her dementia is definitely getting worse. 

In the 3 years that I have been here, if I had rented out my house for $2,000 a month, which is totally within the fair market for that area, I would have had $1,000 extra a month coming in. Lets say I saved $500 a month for house issues "just in case".  That means I could have potentially SAVED $18,000 by now, and still had $500 a month in income, which while not enough to completely stop the bleed of my bank account, it sure would have helped. In 6 more years? $54,000. And further, lets say ALL that money had to go back into the house for repairs over the years. I'd still be left with a paid off house in a very desirable area, AND whatever comes of this one. If Id kept Longshore, and it was paid off, then that rent becomes income. Not enough to stay in this house without making money myself too, but it would have helped. And if I found I couldn't afford it, sell it. Then I would have had my house to fall back on, plus whatever from the sale of this house (if I even really end of getting it) to help in retirement. 

That's a hell of a lot better return on my investment than the 50K I sunk into the market, AGAIN on Elise's advice, that has all but been swallowed up. Just gone. I would have been better off just keeping that 50K in a basic savings account. 

I'm frustrated with so many things in my life right now. I feel like in spite of all my efforts I have built nothing and am nothing. I feel grossly underappreciated by my siblings, and just dismissed by my mom. 

My one love and mental relief is my pinball time. The group of people,(well, most of them) that I have met because of starting the women's league has saved my life. Actually given me a NEW life in a way. None of my people from Decatur are a real part of my life anymore. All those years of "friendship", but move 45 minutes away, and its gone. This is not entirely their doing. Part of it is that when I do, or did, get invites to places I cant go because of either not being able to leave mom, or the money.  That's also what makes me laugh, when Elise used to tell me that she would come stay here "anytime"( as long as she has not made plans...which is never), I would try to explain to her that I CANT AFFORD TO GO ANYWHERE, and she would basically shrug her shoulder and say "oh well!".

There really are not a lot of Decatur people that I miss though. My life had been gradually moving away from a lot of them already way before I moved and that was directly because of Beth. I do miss Anne though. I had hoped that her moving back would allow us to get closer but she has her own problems, and does nothing but work. She's also too far away to see much. I hope that once they find a place to move to its closer to me. Why? because no matter how much help I have, unless its the 24 hour kind, I cant stray very far from home. 

I feel very trapped in this life, and the only way out is money. I have to make money somehow.  What happened to my photography business? Covid happened. Covid made the one thing that I cant seem to do for real estate a necessity, fucking video. I have lost all my clients. So many years building up my business and its just gone. 

When I make fun of working at Walmart, I'm actually not really kidding. I am no longer qualified to do anything in the corporate world, and frankly would rather be dead than stuck in another corporate office job. My photography is still good when I get work, but evidently my builder prices are too much. I know there are photographers out there that charge way more than I do so I don't understand how this could be when the clients I DO still have area always satisfied. 

What do I do now? I have no idea. Die I guess. Wait to die, and in the meantime keep taking care of my mom. That's about it. 

This is my life.