Forecasting 100% chance of Fog....

 My brain is full of fog. Hazy. Messy. Lots of interference. 100% chance of fuzzy brain. 

So here I sit trying to muddle through, still believing, that tapping it out on the keyboard, sharing my muddled, befuddled brain with you, will somehow lift me out of this mire. But it's lost... beyond the fog. 

My give a shit.... it's there, just beyond that hazy, foggy brain. My drive and ambition.... just beyond the fog. Creativity.... past the fog. Reason and clarity.... lost in the fog. 

I am still grateful. Practicing gratitude. It has become habit. For this I'm grateful. But the emotion, the feeling of gratitude, is also lost in the fog. The joy. It's there. But it's out in the fog. 

Apathy. I have that in spades. It's larger than the joy. Larger than the melancholy. Larger than my gratitude. Larger than my creative gene. 

Apathy. Looming large. Rolling in on the fog. Clouding up my judgment. 

New Beginnings, clean slates....

 I'm SOOOOO in need of a clean slate/new beginning. I'm so glad that New Year's brings this. I know I am capable of starting over any time, any day, any hour. But there's something symbolic about the new year, something magical and powerful. And I'm ready. 

I'm ready not to be a puddle of disabled crippledness. I'm ready to be a contributing citizen, a capable human. I'm ready for renewal of spirit and mind as well as body. Not that my body doesn't need it, it most assuredly does. Today I attempted yoga. and I had the privilege to get to be informed by my body just how far we have to go to get mobility back, and just how impaired my range of motion still is. It was eye-opening for certain. 

Then there's the whole disability fiasco. You know me. Did I listen to others when they said how difficult it is to get disability? nope. I was the exception. because of course, I'm me. And I was actually disabled. So why wouldn't I get it. Ha! I don't have a final determination yet. I have lost paperwork. Which I might add I really have to practice letting go of resentment here. If you know me, you know I am not the world's best at meeting deadlines and getting things turned in in a timely fashion. But paperwork was received on a Monday, due back on that coming Friday and I had it in the mail on Thursday. Folks, for me, that is extremely timely. So the fact that the disability office never received it is annoying. Now I am filling it out again. But knowing that I qualify according to the qualifications of someone who will be disabled for 12 months or more, and knowing that they are not really looking at that qualifying marker, is really disheartening. The first denial said I should be able to return to work by November 1st. I don't know what kind of job they think I'd be qualified to do, but I was quite cripped up yet on November 1st. Ugh. 

So my frustration lives on.

I am trying to plan my future. Because I am no longer confident that just because I was actually disabled and met the qualifications laid out by SS disability that I will actually get it. But I'm overwhelmed, frustrated and discouraged. 

However, there is a little hope laced in there. 

I have hope that I'll continue to gain range of motion and general mobility. I already limp less than I have for the last two years of my life. I am still slow. And stiff. My knees are often still stiff and don't want to loosen up much. 

But trying to gauge what I am capable of REALISTICALLY, not according to the powers that determine disability, is tough. It's scary. Overwhelming. 

I am starting to dream of Kindergarten. Because I am in love with those little people and we need more Kinder teachers who love Kindergarten, Kinders, and Kinder parents. Teachers who know that little Suzy and Johnny will learn to read, and that it's okay that not everyone learns at the same pace. That learning is supposed to be fun and is meant to be celebrated. That these babies are worth all the extra hours. What if I could get my body and mind in shape before school starts again in August? Because I obviously cannot get there by this week or next. And recovering from knee replacement does take time. Duh. That's why they say it takes 12-18 months. But it's easy to forget this, because the doctors themselves act like I should be whizzing along doing all I could do before I fell prey to osteoarthritis. Then when I bring it up, they suddenly remind me that it can take up to 18 months to recover. Really? Because just 30 seconds ago you acted like I should be able to lead Kinders backwards down the hall and not trip, keeping a crisp walking pace. Yes, the teacher needs eyes in the back of her head, because one necessary skill is walking, leading a line, and facing your precious subjects, as you move toward wherever you are going, guiding little bodies to learn to keep hands to themselves, keep quiet in the hall, keep feet to theirselves and still follow behind the person directly in front of them.

But anyway.... 

there is a some hope interlaced with this clean slate of 2023. Hope that I'll cease to be disabled, according to ME, to what my body can ACTUALLY do, not just what disability says I can do. Hope that I won't be stuck in limbo.

Folks, I have a dilemma that needs it's own blog post. But I'm asking you to send good vibes and prayers about something that would make my life immeasurably easier/better, and seems like an insurmountable mountain. Please take that extra 30 seconds and hold my need near and dear. It does make a difference. It always does. 

Here are the way to help: