Dec 30

 Tough day.

As the day wore on I struggled with the stress of my situation. Sometimes better. Sometimes worse. Overall, getting worse. By mid afternoon I had reached super high emergency stress level. I equate this to the point where you just hold your breath. No breathing. Except it's over hours. Everything is cranked up to a high strung point.

I had this when Ares was bad and I had to put him to sleep. Everything slows. I disassociate hardcore. Everything becomes unreal. High focus. High achievement. High coping. Everything runs on a steely efficient auto pilot. The emotions are somewhere in there, screaming the house down. But it's clamped down. No time for that. This is about doing the thing. So everything gets held in place. A screaming inner animal pinned to the floor and smothered. Everything tightens ready to fight, flee, do what's necessary. A machine. But not healthy. Under extreme pressure. Ready to pop. Burning so much energy to hold that state of high readiness indefinitely. Uh huh. And the come down. Is a killer. Perhaps literally. Screaming into the void as the emotions are unleashed, the adrenaline fizzles and the dark finally rushes in. Very bad. At it's worst, life or death stuff. It is in those moments that the glittering knife hovers. Do it. Just. Do it. Too much. Just end it.

So today was that familiar place. Hard to properly concentrate on anything except holding your breath. Everything is a distraction. But you have to wait. Wait for an outcome. Wait for the moment to arrive. Just. Wait. Excruciating.

I didn't want to be there. I tried shaking it off. It's ok. Athena will be ok.

Yeah. No.

No talking it down.

So off we went to the vets. Serious. Quiet. Stressed. Unhappy. Taut, ready to lift a car over your head at a moments notice. I wonder what my blood pressure was like. Probably. Stupid levels. Also aware that this level of burn is phenomenally bad for my shitty chronically ill self. Pouring gasoline on the fire. Ooh. Yummy. Burn motherfucker.

Athenas eye wasn't good. Looked awful. Bloody.

However, after a dye check it seemed that the original ulcer had basically gone. No longer any signs of corneal damage. But. A lot of blood, a bit of swelling. The vet however took the blood whilst horrible to be at least something of a good sign. The blood vessels are infiltrating the site trying to repair the damage. This is a good thing. To a point.

We got more anti biotics. A new different kind of drops. We are stacking meds at this point. My kitchen, which always resembles a bit of a pharmacy, now looks like a chaotic well stocked pharmacy.

We have another appointment on Tuesday. To see how we're doing. The vet is hopeful that at this point it's all downhill. The bloody eye will slowly get better, the blood will retreat. And at that point we take a close look at the eye and see how we go from there. But it's up in the air. The short time between vet visits speaks volumes.

I asked the question. Because it looked serious. And from the amount of vet visits and times, it seemed serious. I already was at peak shit hitting the fan. When you've had 3 vet visits in a week, it's not good.

Overall, how concerned should we be.

After pondering what was going on, her age, the meds, et al. Concerned.

This isn't a no brainer dismissal, no worries, here's an ointment see you next month.

This is a roll of the dice.

But the vet was positive. Hoping she would stabilise. Hoping the eye would be ok.

But the word sinister popped up again. It could be something more sinister was going on. Time would tell.

And if it's sinister.

This is where we get to that horrible end point in time. The line between being here, and not being here. Her age massively works against her. Of course. Serious things that maybe a younger dog could shrug off become terminal. But I have seen how easy it is to lose them even if they're not old. How quick sometimes. How stupidly inconsequential. And yet. Suddenly they are not there. Dogs can be like this. Strong. Until suddenly they are not. It's in their nature. Don't be weak. The weak get eaten. Be strong until you really can't be strong anymore, and then you're gone. And things like cancer can be devastating for them. So quick. So killer. Dogs live on a much faster timeline than we do. That whole, 1 human year is 7 dog years is so appropriate in many ways. Everything goes faster for them.

Anywho. Be positive.

We are hopeful of a positive outcome. It seems like the odds are in our favour at the moment. Probably.

Athena is aching a bit again. Her librella already worn off. She's struggling a bit more. Regardless of eye or not. Outcome or not. Time is chasing her hard. I suspect that 2024 is going to be a sad year. Like. They aren't all fucking miserable anyway.

But again. Stop. Cross that bridge when you come to it. Live in the now. Live in the moment. Tomorrow will come whether you worry about it or not.

So. My stress has come down a notch from that high pitched keening disassociating constant punched in the gut level of stress.

I cannot entirely let go. I cannot rest. I have many things to do this month. And Athena's meds to deliver every 4 hours. Day. Night. Someone else might skip the one in the middle of the night. The first vet thought I could maybe stretch it. For the sake of my sleep. Maybe leave it 7 hours in the night.

But that's not me.

Tell me Athena could do with this every 4 hours. And I will do that every 4 hours. Regardless of the cost to me. We Do The Thing.

Athena is my responsibility. She relies on me totally to be her voice. Her carer. The person that keeps her safe and does what's best for her. I don't take that lightly. Treat others as you yourself would want to be treated. If I was ill. And my best shot was meds every 4 hours. I would love to think someone would be there and do that for me. So. Here we are. Giving Athena meds every 4 hours. She can't speak up herself. Which makes it all the more important someone is there for her.

It's all cool.

I have had worse.

We shall do the thing.

And all of it. This too shall pass.

Albeit. I am not sure the "this too shall pass" is half as good as a reassurance as some think it is. At it's heart it is dark as fuck. All life. This too, shall pass. Everything you are. This too, shall pass.

It is nihilism, in short form. It is the reassurance of the dead. The salve that in the end, nothing matters anyway. Brutal. Cold. Inhuman.

Anywho. Lighten up. Athena, touch wood, is gonna be around for a while yet. More things to eat. More things to snuffle. More gentle walks to be had. And long may my feminist shock trooper continue to roam. More soft fuzzy slow chilled oldster than shock trooper now. But. She's still Athena. Fingers crossed. Because fate is an arsehole with a supply of curveballs.

Listen carefully and you can hear it. Hello darkness my old friend. I've come to talk to you again.

Always there. Never far. One day, I have fairly good odds, it will come for me for good. 

Happy thoughts.

Other stuff.

One of my friends has got back from visiting her terminal mom. Hard for her. In so many ways she is young. Younger than her age. She is smart. And switched on. But also in some ways, so inexperienced. You can see it as she navigates the pointier bits of life. The smart bit of her doesn't help. If anything it gets in her way. It struggles to assess and figure out what's going on. Exasperated by each new illogical turn which is just part of learning wisdom and experience of people. People are not machines. And logic often goes out the window. You have to learn the rhythm of the human condition. Not the algebra of an equation.

She is frustrated and very depressed that despite trying to do the right thing. To care. To be present. Her mom is treating her badly.

This. Is quintessential life lesson here.

There are times when you can do the right thing. The caring thing. And you will not get praised for it. You won't even get acknowledged for it. And worse still. You may get kicked for it. Spat on. It will cost you dear.

Reeling back from that is hard. But. I did the right thing ? And was assaulted for it ? How unfair ! How shit ! Fuck this shit !

Yeah.

It can be like that.

And sometimes it's going to make someone recoil. No. I am not being nice anymore. I am not being nice to anyone ever again. You are hurt. You retreat. Curl up. Defensive. You learn a lesson not to be kind. You learn a lesson that the world is unfair and shit. I will also therefore be unfair and shit. Because not being that hurts. And is unfair on me.

Yeah.

But. It's a super hard lesson. Good things are not always reciprocated. No good deed goes unpunished and all that. It's a fact. But don't take the lesson that fuck you, I too will therefore be an asshole. I won't ever help again.

Take a step back. If someone does a good thing. But gets assaulted for it. What does that look like ? Do we think less of the person trying to do a good thing ? No. If they were to curl up and never do a good thing again, would we think that's a good thing ? No.

If they didn't let it affect them, and continued trying to be a good person, would that be a good thing ? Yes. Clearly.

The difference here is you would see someone with dogged determination. Versus someone who gave up. Which is not to denigrate giving up. Life is hard and unfair. Giving up is not an unreasonable response. Understandable. Fuck that shit.

But. There is a real value in someone who continues on trying to do the right thing, despite getting kicked.

Stuck in the eye of the storm and being the person being kicked it's a lot more murky. Difficult to see the better thing. And, as we all do, you will fail at it. There will be times where you go home, shut the door, and tell everyone to fuck off. Because none of us are invincible, perfect, capable of absorbing everything without flinching.

We all need to rest at times. Breathe. Take a moment.

But the coming back after the dust settles is the important bit. The bit where the two paths divide. Do you take that lesson, become bitter, never help again. Decide that being selfish is the way to go. Which is definitely a solution. It depends on who you want to be as a person.

Or do you not let others being an asshole also infect you into become an asshole. And continue on despite the shit you get. The more selfless path. Also a solution.

My friend is at that dawn of realisation that This Sucks.

I have done the right thing and got kicked for it.

She is in that reeling stage of, what is my response. Why do I bother. I should just not bother right ? I am hurt. I am sad. Fuck this.

Her other half is of an equal kind of inexperience. Well. It's just your family is fucked.

Yes. Well. Here's the secret.

Everyone is fucked. It is not a them and us situation. It's just an us situation. Even though it's so wonderfully attractive to think of everyone else as being the problem and ourselves as obviously being not like that. Ha. No.

There are levels for sure. And some people have better discipline. Better insight. Hell may even be quite good at that shit. But everyone in the end is human. And the biggest mistake you can make is believing your own bullshit that oh, I could never be that, after all, I am better, and everyone else is a monster, not human. No. We're all human. Checking yourself once in a while. Or more than once in a while is the only real capability of not being a problem. And even then. We tend to be a mess. Particularly if you don't think about shit. Or yourself. Or the meaning. Or worse. You're arrogant.

In any case. I do find myself a little biased against her other half these days. Because I see everything through the lens of control. Which. He is. Controlling. When he says your family is fucked. It's true. It's also true however that everyone is fucked and you shouldn't particularly take that as a reason to distance yourself because oh my god it's so unusual your family is fucked. Unless. Of course. You like isolating people. Part of the controlling shtick is to isolate someone. This is 101 controlling behaviour, isolate a person from their family, friends, everyone else. Also gaslight them to fuck. Until all they have in the world is the controlling person. And their view of the world and them. And their idea of what someone should be doing with their time, life, schedule et al. It's part of his own demons. Controlling everything around him. From painting a room ( no joke ). To who can have a bottle of wine ( also not a joke ). And ultimately, to the responses and choices his partner makes. It is, at its worst, sinister. At its best, misguided. From my point of view, I have seen it wander between both cases. It is. Not Good. And one of the root causes of his first divorce. You can argue about where the line is between mental dysfunction and malice here. For my money. It's all mental dysfunction. Tightly wrapped trauma from his relationship with his mom, being groomed as a kid, resulting in this tightly wound OCD controlling volatile personality that must have his partner tightly locked down and pandering to him.

As hard as it might be to understand. I am not grinding an axe with him. I actually like him. But that doesn't mean I am oblivious to his flaws and darker side. I dont judge him per se, except, of course, where it gets to the sticky part where he does damage to his other half - also my friend. Then. Eh. Difficult. You either have to stay aloof - and by implication uncaring - or, start to take sides. And judge.

Anywho. Besides the point.

I have sympathised with her. Told her that no matter what she did the right thing. Has taken time and care to spend time with her mom. Even if she doesn't appreciate it. Even if no one else appreciates it. She did the right thing. At a personal cost. Take heart from that.

Ultimately. When someone is dying. And time is short. Hindsight will be kinder to the person that tried, and cared, despite being kicked. Versus the one that just walked away and said fuck that shit. The person that was kind will have few if any regrets. Some peace that they tried to do the right thing. The person that walked away will always wonder if things could have been different had they but tried.

Do the right thing. Be kind. There are no rollbacks or redos. You get one shot. And then the person is gone.

The equation of course changes if you're in an ongoing situation with no forseeable end. Then the question of what you do with long term toxicity is different.

It comes down to two things I think.

The first is how much damage that person does. Being an asshole. How much mayhem and destruction do they cause around them. To you. How much abuse do you have to put up with. Is it minor or major. How much does it affect you. And the important bit. How much does it affect you over time. A tsunami of water is a no brainer devastating torrent of destruction. One that you would be wise to run from. But what about the trickle of water ? In the short term, it's easy. Wipe it up. Move on. But over time ? Mountains are split by trickles of water. Valleys carved, rivers formed, seas open, oceans result. Continents divided. Time is ultimately the biggest determination of damage. Sustained toxicity is a killer.

For this first point you can take a very objective view of it. You can measure it to some extent on a universal scale. How much damage does this person do. A drip. A flood. A tsunami. And over what time period. What frequency over that time period. You can get an idea, of trivial to major.

The second thing that this comes down to is very subjective. The personal. Which is, how much are you willing to put up with. Or. In other words. How much are you willing to sacrifice. You may decide that any damage to yourself is unacceptable. Fuck you. Don't treat me like that. On the other hand, you may decide to be a martyr. Any level of damage you will put up with. You will go down with this ship. Absorb it all. Die in a fiery inferno.

Personal call. Either extreme though it has to be said, at an objective level of that subjective choice is rather suspect I think. No tolerance. Suspect. Martyrdom. Suspect. Both tend to indicate some fuckery afoot. And it's a sliding scale. Somewhat of a martyr. Somewhat suspect.

No rights or wrongs per se, just, whatever the person is comfortable with.

Albeit that being said, I do actually think there is very much an objective right or wrong here. You shouldn't put up with damaging toxic shit that increases the suffering in your life. Conversely you should be understanding and roll with some punches, because life is never perfect, people are never perfect, and on the whole you will be better off - less suffering - if you learn to be understanding and adapt a bit. The devil is in the details. The context. The nuance. How much is ok. How much is too much. I do think objectively you can state it. Anything that does lasting unhealing damage is no bueno. Anything that you can recover from, learn from, move on, even better have the other party do better is good.

I think we can say it's a personal thing. Up to the person. No right or wrong. Just to remove ourselves from the complicated business of rating someone elses decisions. Hand wave it away. In a cynical assessment, we can be cowards, and remove ourselves from the responsibility of turning around to someone and saying, hey, I really don't think thats good for you and you should do something about it, and also having to confront that person whilst they desperately defend their shitty choices.

It's easier in the end to just let someone deal with their own reality.

And also. Be aware that no one has 20:20 vision. So. You might be wrong. But yeah. Sometimes it can be as plain as the nose on your face. And waving it away to a "personal decision" is just a bullshit way of avoiding an awkward truth.

Ok.

Enough of wandering off on a tangent.

One final spark of self awareness my friend showed. On reeling back from the unfairness of doing the right thing but getting punished for it. She then wondered how she came across and was perhaps not aware of.

Oh boy.

Yes. And in spades. She has. A lot. Going on there. In terms of what she doesn't realise she projects. Some of it is not great. Or at the very least. Unhelpful.

But. That's a different problem. For a very different day a long way away. And not the thing you open when you're trying to navigate your mom dying from a terminal diagnosis.

My only response was. Yeah. Indeed. But that's a whole other can of worms.

No lies.

But also.

No truths.

Park it.

Perhaps we will come back to it later. Perhaps never. But now is not the time.

Uh huh.

People. Are tricky. Not because they are complex beasts of indecipherable drives. But mostly because you have to sail around their egos. Pride. Moods. The rise and fall of good days bad days. Patience wearing out. All of that together is like the trickiest of weather predictions. How are the sailing conditions for today. Can we risk full sail. Or should we hold up. Run from the storm. Or tack into it. You can never entirely tell. The stormy seas of people are difficult to track. It is ultimately what sets apart people from machines. That never the same twice overall mood. A sea of biochemicals swishing around, impacted by the every day events and interactions with others. A rum old meat machine, powered by ghosts and moodswings.