As you may have noticed, things have been quiet around here. That’s because I’m struggling. Yes, I realize that everything I’m about to mention is a First World Problem. Yes, I realize that many people have it way worse than me. Guess what? My struggles are mine, and I’m not competing with anyone else. My therapist “diagnosed” me with “Too Many Squirrels on My Plate”.

If you’ve wondered where my pen blogs and fiction blogs are? Well, I have no spoons for writing right now. My Day Job (yes, that I’m terribly grateful for) is ramping back up because of Delta Variant and Hurricane Season. We have not had a break in two years – I know because I’m the person who tells those stories. So, if you want to see me write more fiction and be more active here or in the fandom realm? Get vaccinated, mask up, social distance, and wash your hands. Just thinking about this virus and the politics around it makes me want to cry.

Lots of things make me want to cry right now. I’m making use of my shoulder surgery putting me near Insurance Out of Pocket to get some other things checked out. Including the *4* things wrong with my hands and wrists. Two of the things I can’t do anything about without major invasive surgery that the ortho doc doesn’t want to do (neither do I). Still waiting to be scheduled for my EMG (which I didn’t even know was a thing) to find out the extent of the carpal tunnel syndrome and what that treatment will entail.

REALLY should’ve gotten the Extended Warranty on my body…

Decided to do something about weight. Talked to my one doc that does that–and tried to communicate some of the challenges I have with the psychology behind weight loss. It was pretty much ignored. I meet with a dietician in about 10 days to see how to meet the doc wants that I cannot do on my own – because I’ve been trying for the last 10 days. Last week I sent my therapist a huge email about the stress I’m under about this decision.

I’m doing this even though my blood work is just fine – all in normal ranges. My blood pressure is under control. My metabolism is fine/no pre-diabetes or insulin resistance. I just don’t like the numbers on the scale. Because I’m using words like “fault” and “guilt” and freaking out over everything I eat because it all has to be tracked, journaled, and judged by someone else. I’ve already had at least one instance of “There’s no good food choice to make here, so maybe I just won’t eat” — which is NOT a good food choice.

FenCon is gearing up – and people are starting to cancel and we still have a lot of unknowns because County Judges and Governors are fighting over masks and mandates. Texas is a “personal responsibility” state. We have to move forward like it’s going to go on. We have every intention of moving forward and walking the line between caution and fun. There will be people unhappy no matter what we do. That’s just an underlying constant hum of stress.

So, I’m walking a line of exhaustion and emotional breakdown — so PLEASE, please be careful poking this bear. The Spoon Drawer is now to those tiny fancy teaspoons that no one ever really uses unless you do fancy English High Tea, and they don’t hold much.