More on pain, yin and yang, and other vomit

What is  my major malfunction?  I have a choice, right?  What is it that I am choosing right now with my husband?  To be mean and unattached.  Not to talk to him.  To be annoyed by everything he does and doesn't do.  Why do I want him perfect when I am not.  I mean, he is perfect in a sense.  Perfectly being himself.  I just wish he would man up sometimes.  Now I am starting to get the emotional responses from him that I wanted but not exactly anything with substance.  Just him being upset with me.  I wish he would just say, we need to talk.  We need to talk about your attitude.  But he doesn't care.  He would let me walk all over him in this house.  Do whatever the fuck I wanted.  He doesn't complain to me about anything.  I am not perfect.  Is it that he is choosing his battle or he just doesn't give a shit or he is oblivious to my antics.  I want someone to tell me what I am doing wrong so I can fix it.  But do I really want to fix it?  Once again, he fucked up my orgasm.  I have chosen this.  All my fears about what marriage would be like is happening.  He told me we can decide what we want marriage to be.  What do I want it to be?  I don't want it to be.  I am not sure this marriage thing is for me and I wish it was for typical reasons like wanting someone else.  What am I annoyed by everything little thing he does?  It use to be the opposite.  Is this that yin and yang bullshit I have been reading about?  Why are we so repelled right now.  Well, I am repelled.  I am sure he would just be business as usual if not for my attitude.  I'm in pain.  Not just from My injury but emotional pain.  I have to go catch the bus now for physical therapy.  Peace

My Injury

On April 25, 2011 at about 1630, I was tossed to the ceiling of the plane, twice, due to severe turbulence.  I was the only person injured in this incident as most flight attendants are the victims.

I was just going about my normal routine: I finished the main cabin beverage service and started to eat a bit of food while emptying soda cans in the lavatory.  Nothing out of the normal.  The weather wasn't god that day however the pilots told us the route we were given should be ok...yeah, right.  The turbulence came out of no where!  It was smooth flying one minute and the next thing I know, I get lifted off of the ground...that feeling doesn't happen everyday.  My head and shoulder were tossed harshly against the ceiling of the plane, right over the R2 exit.  It hurt I guess but after I came back down I had no time to think or gather myself, I was immediately tossed to the ceiling again in the same manner.  Ouchies!!! When I came back down, I was shaking.  My head hurt like any other time you hit you head hard.  I was mostly just standing there in shock of what just happened and that it happened to me like this.

Once I gathered myself, I sat in the jumpseat and that is when I thought about my passengers, especially the woman in the last row with a lap child (baby), the wife of a pilot who didn't seem to want to listen to me when I told her earlier that her baby could be pulled against her arms at ten times its weight in the right circumstance (like this godforsaken turbulence) and that the safest thing would be to keep the child in a seat, preferably a car seat approved for travel.  You would think the wife of a pilot would know better.  Luckily the baby didn't get hurt but the baby came loose long enough in the woman's arms to scare the shit out of her.

So, I look out at the passengers who are drenched in beverages and fear, and one in laughter (the very annoying lady in 20B who thought it was so funny.  Bitch didn't know I got hurt.  I wanted to slap some sense into her ass about how serious that shit was...argh!!!). I started to hand out paper towels to the last few rows and made an announcement asking if anyone needed assistance, please ring your flight attendant call button.   The other flight attendant came to check on me and I told her what happened.  She asked me if I was ok and started to help me get my galley together.  I was a bit disoriented but of course, I don't tend to show people when I'm hurting, except my husband who sees through my bs.  She left to go to the front of the plane.  

The pilots finally decided to call.  They explained what happened and ask if anyone got hurt.  I told them what happened.  The captain asked if I wanted an ambulance to meet me.  Hell no!  I don't want this big scene in the airport.  What a dumb idea, Tracie!  He recommended that we remain seated for the remainder of the flight.  I just once wanted to make sure everyone was ok before I took my seat.  I went out with a trash bag to collect anything like coffee so people wouldn't get hurt.  There were two main line flight attendants (main line meaning they work for a major Airline directly like Delta or American Airlines and not regionals like Compass or American Eagle) seated who told me to get my ass back to my seat.  They were seasoned and smart.  The turbulence was so bad that I had to crawl my way back ot my galley...still be lifted off of the ground, I was holding on for dear life to the sides of the seats in the aisle.  I sat down for the rest of the flight.  My head was starting to hurt more.  The turbulence continued. I just wanted to be on the ground.  Some 40 minutes later we finally landed.  It was 40 minutes of non-stop turbulence.

When we got to the gate I proceeded to unfasten my seatbelt.  Whoa...  I got dizzy, very dizzy.  Shit, is this something serious?  Well, the lady in 20C was still laughing.  She looked me dead in the eyes seeing that I was very stern and asked me, didn't you think that was funny?  I said no, it was very serious and I got tossed to the ceiling of the plane.  The bitch finally stopped laughing.  One of those mainline flight attendants came to use the restroom and asked me if I was hurt.  I told her what happened and she had the biggest look of doom on her face.  She said I was going to be on OJI (on the job injury) for a month. She said I was not going to work and that I could be injured badly.  I thought, no way, can't be that serious. I mean, I felt bad but that bad...?

Today is June 15, 2011 and I have not worked since my injury.  I have just stopped taking pain medication only because I had an allergic reaction and in my goal to get back to work I want to be independent of drugs.  I am still in pain.  Even as I sit here now.  There was much drama that ensued after the injury.  My crew, obviously seeing me disoriented, left me behind on my own without asking if I needed anything.  I would have never left someone behind like that.  It took a while for me to get in contact with inflight to get some help.  It took almost 2 hours post incident to get to the hospital.  From there it took about 5 hours for me to get seen by a doc who gave me pain meds and said take it easy and that my neck was going to hurt like hell in a few days (this motherfucker still hurts like a motherfucker).

Now I know I should have never left the hospital and demanded an MRI.  Then again, all I wanted to do was get home.  Now I am home. I have been taking physical therapy for about a month and I feel stronger.  Hopefully I will get back to work soon.  Why did this happened?  Well, that's another blog for another day.

Peace

Cleaning is educational, therapeutic, inspirational, and well, just healthy living!

In my fit of rage today, I decided to get some fresh air by leaving the house.  I didn't make it far, just ended up going to my sister's house where I failed to be able to turn on their television.  Hey, it was complicated and at the time my mind was all over the place.  Anywho, my sister's place has been a mess for quite a while now and that is because she got little to no support from her husband in that area.  The kitchen was the worse room.  Dishes were molding on the sink, there was food all over the floor, the refrigerator was gross and grimy, and there was the foul stench of death over the entire room.  I hate a dirty kitchen and bathroom.  I simply can't function in them.  So, I decided to clean the kitchen.

I use to live with my sister and well, let's just say I am more adamant about keeping things clean.  Then again, having three kids, and four if you count the husband (men and cleaning is an oxymoron), doesn't make it easy to keep things tidy.  My sister and her husband separated two days ago and it has been tough.  I figure I could help her out a little bit and well, cleaning is very therapeutic.

Well, I started with the dishes and almost every dish was dirty.  Not even half way through the dishes I started to feel pain from my neck injury (maybe I will blog about how that happened later).  I have been trying to wain off my pain pills but I knew to get the job done I had to pop one.  It certainly helped but I was still moving slowly.  To make matters worse, I reached for a coffee cup with a broken handle and ended up cutting my left hand pretty badly on the glass.  I was soooo enraged.  I tossed that shit in the trash even though I knew she liked that cup.

Who keeps a broken coffee cup around, especially with children in the house?  In the middle of my cursing and bleeding, I realized the deep symbolism in the cup.  It was symbolic of a broken marriage and a broken home.  That particular coffee cup was their pride and joy, much like their marriage.  Why hold on to something that is broken and dangerous?  You have to face the reality that the cup is useless now.  By cutting my hand on the cup I realized something else.  This mess that I was cleaning up was the mess their marriage had turned into.  However, this mess still needed to be cleaned and I wasn't going to let this war wound stop me even though it just kept bleeding no matter how much pressure I put on it.  I put a band-aid on and ended up wrapping plastic bags around my hand to protect it from getting wet.  It was not easy to work like this.  My left had wasn't being very useful and well, with my neck injury, my right arm wasn't moving fast enough.

This too was symbolic of their marriage.  My sister was my right hand and her husband was my left.  They were supposed to have a partnership but because one hand wasn't giving the other hand the support it needed, the job couldn't get done well.  It was so hard to wash the dishes and clean everything but I kept on cleaning because there was a bigger purpose.  That is what my sister has to do.  It is very possible for her to clean her mess, even though the partner she thought she had won't be around the way that he use to: her left hand.   However, I proved that a lot could be done.  I didn't get to clean the oven, walls completely, the microwave or the floor, but I got the dishes, the island, and the refrigerator.  And the best part is that the dead smell was completely gone!

My sister was grateful for my help and I was grateful for all the knowledge I gained from the experience.  You know, there is an old spiritual song that sings, "And you know that Jesus is coming, so get your house in order."  Well, the point here is not about Jesus but the meaning of the house.  The song doesn't just talk about your physical house but your figurative one.  You house is your family, your mind, the place you live and reside.  Most people reside with a family but all people live in their mind.  I believe that the mess of your house can be metaphorical to the mess in your mind or in my sister's case, the mess of her marriage.  Her entire house is dirty, every room!  She has let the mess go on for too long and not completely the fault of her own since she thought she had a partner.  My sister if a church going woman and well, she needs to get her house in order pronto!  The fact that the house has been dirty for so long was so symbolic.  I am glad she has finally decided to clean up.

I'm human after all

Well, I had an argument with my husband today and it was not nice.  When are arguments nice? I suppose when you discover something about the other person that is a change for the better.  When something deep and touching is revealed.  When the truth comes out.  Those are good arguments.  Productive arguments.  I suppose our argument was kind of productive except for the fact that it ended with  me storming out of the apartment.  I never liked to describe an argument between my husband and I as an argument but more of a discussion or disagreement.  A heated debate if you will.  I don't like to argue, I like to discuss.  I don't mind having opposing sides or disagreeing.  And regardless of what anyone else may think, I am not trying to be right or win (boy, haven't I heard that too much in my life).  Just because at times I have a good point or a rebuttal, doesn't mean I am trying to win.  In fact, I lost today and what a sore loser I am right now.

So, what does this have to do with me being human?  Turns out I get jealous.  I know, shocking, right?  I am in utter disbelief myself.  And the person involved doesn't make me feel any better about it.  Here is a little background.  When I met my husband he had this woman that was/is his best friend.  At some point in their "friendship" they became physically intimate, had sex, shared romantic feelings, and he ended up professing his love for her only to be rejected in the worse way: she started dating their mutual friend.  When he told this woman he was in love with her, it was at that point I was terribly in love with him.  You can imagine the heart ache hearing him say this to me.  Well, after time had passed he asked me to be with him and here we are.  It wasn't until years later that I told him how all that drama made me feel and wasn't until two weeks ago I decided that I don't think it's inappropriate they remain friends.  I had not idea how uncomfortable the whole situation made me feel.  And until today I was not going to entertain the idea of that discomfort being actual jealousy.

Now, there is not much this girl has that I want.  I mean, I kind of won in that area since I am married to my husband.  I am just seriously annoyed by her bitching and moaning, how she would always go to my man when she needed something, and well, there is the whole they fucked thing.  When you fuck someone you will alway share an energy with that person, I know this for a fact.  And when you have had romantic feelings about someone those thoughts and memories remain in your conscious.  I don't feel comfortable with them socializing and having such a dramatic and emotional past together.  I suppose that is jealousy?  Just read a definition of jealousy and I think I am more emotionally jealous than anything else.  Shit, I just don't like it.  Their emotional and intimate connection bothers me.

So, what has been done?  Well, today, I told him I don't want him to be friends with her.  I have never imagined in my life telling my spouse who he can or can't be friends with.  I think it's a petty action and that I shouldn't have much say so in that department.  It was not easy getting to this conclusion.  I wonder what my real reason is.  Is it for my well being or his?  I don't like them being so close after having that kind of past.  Am I afraid something might happen again?  That is a good question.  I trust my husband.  I suppose secretly I thought this woman was just plotting her time with this boyfriend of hers until she saw an opportunity to dive in.  Well, that is not true but I am reaching here.  I have to have a good reason for wanting this other than to sing to myself, ding dong this wicked bitch is dead!  After all the heart ache she put us both through I don't feel like she deserves our friendship.  I don't like seeing her sit high and mighty thinking she can hurt people and still get what she wants.  Now that feels more like the truth.

I suppose those feelings make me jealous.  Jealousy is a common human phenomenon.  I have always thought of myself being different from other girls, other people in general.  I guess I don't like certain parts of humanity, jealousy being one of them.  Yet accepting my humanity is apart of my life's journey and today was a huge step.

It's been too long

Well, it's been a while since I have blogged and I will explain the reason for this.  I thought that blogging was just for me.  A forum where I had the freedom to just express without consequence.  That reality was shattered when my husband and I got into a heated discussion and he brought something from my blog into the argument and used it against me.  It made me feel unsafe. Rather than having the freedom to say whatever I wanted, I was being held accountable for my words.  Now, you may be thinking, um, if you want privacy and freedom, get a diary.  Well, that is not exactly what I wanted.  I just wanted to express without consequence.  How fool hardy of me.  Well, it's been a long time but I am just now getting to the point where I can accept responsibility for the words I right here and not be afraid to be confronted by anyone with this words.  I feel kinda silly that I let that little spat between my husband and I interrupt my goal (totally thought I was past that point in my life...).  Anywho, the blogging is back on!  Whoo Hooo!!!  But now I must got put together some furniture with the hubby.  Peace