Advent Plans

 

I absolutely love Advent & Christmastide! Yes, Lent & Easter are wonderful but I’ve always been partial to these two liturgical seasons more than the rest. 

Maybe it’s because I’ve always loved new beginnings. My favorite secular holiday was always New Years’ Day. My favorite season is Springtime… & Advent is knowing as the liturgical springtime as it’s the beginning of the liturgical year. 

Or maybe it’s because I’ve always loved the warm & cozy feelings associated with this time of year. The warmth of the kitchen (my favorite room in the house), the warmth of a delicious cup of tea while reading a good book, the warm embraces of loved ones at get-togethers (in small numbers, this introvert thanks you very much), etc. 

I usually have a “go big or go home” mentality but this year I’m doing things differently. Instead of doing “all the Catholic things” I’ve decided to do almost none of it. At least not the big things. There will be no Advent wreath this year. There will be no Advent candles. The Nativity (minus baby Jesus) won’t be put out until Christmas Eve. 

Why? Because I want a stripped down Advent — just me & my future bridegroom.

For weeks I’ve had it on my heart & mind to focus on getting to know & love Jesus deeper. I feel like my love & understanding is still a bit superficial; like there is a lot more that I have to learn. The words “spend time with your bridegroom” keeps repeating on loop for most of the day. What better time to really dive deeper than Advent? 

Just like you spend time with someone to get to know them enough to know whether you want to marry them or not, I feel like I need to do the same. Not that I doubt my vocation; I’ve never felt more at peace & more like myself than when I think about being a CV for life. I simply feel like there’s a lot more that I need to discover so that when that beautiful day of consecration comes & I become His bride, my heart will overflow with more love & joy than I thought possible. 

This Advent, these two books will be my companions. I’ll continue the Divine Intimacy book through the end of the liturgical year as well. I look forward to using them to help me on this journey to get to know my future bridegroom better. 

Oblation and Consecration Renewal Day

 Happy feast of Christ the King! 

Today I renewed my Benedictine oblate promises, my Marian consecration, & my consecration to Divine Mercy. It’s a tradition at Clear Creek Abbey (& many other Benedictine monasteries) that oblates renew their promises today, on the feast of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Since I knew the date, I chose to renew my other consecrations on this day as well. 

It was a beautiful 33 days leading up to today. I purposely took the week off from social media in order to prepare for it. While I didn’t get to do things as I had planned, it was still a fruitful time that I needed. I feel like it also put me in the right headspace for the beginning of Advent in just a week. Of course, being somewhat of a liturgical calendar geek, I have plans for my favorite liturgical seasons (Advent & Christmastide) but I’ll get to that later. For now…

Peace! In the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

I renew my oblation & offer myself to Almighty God through the Blessed Virgin Mary & our Holy Father Benedict, as an Oblate of Our Lady of the Annunciation of Clear Creek Monastery & promise again to dedicate myself to the service of God & Humanity

according to the Rule of Saint Benedict

in so far as my state in life permits.

(Photo of a consecration bracelet I was given, the Rosary I got at Clear Creek on the eve of my final promises this past August, & my Christmas gift (a Benedictine crucifix) I also got from Clear Creek in 2018 before I knew I was going to end up making my final promises there.)

What One of My Most Significant Relationships Made Me Realize

 

At this point I think I can safely assume that everyone knows that I love to write. I mean, it’s even in my blog title, which I have not changed since its inception in December 2007. However, no one knows that I didn’t even realize I liked writing until my childhood best friend answered one important question: “why do you always give me notebooks and pens for my birthday?”

I haven’t talked about him in my blog before but, yes, my best friend growing up was a fella. We grew up together, living in the same apartment complex from the time I was 5 until about the age of 19. He was a year older and we never went to the same schools but we hung out after school and on weekends. 

He tried to teach me how to skateboard which was hilarious because I was so bad at it. I don’t know if I can still do an Ollie but, if I can, he taught me how. I don’t remember what I tried to teach him (it was probably school-related) but I remember we had a good balance. He was strong where I was weak and vice versa. We never fought and if we disagreed, it was resolved pretty quickly. 

We brought out the best in each other. I was the academic nerd and he was allergic to school. He was calm in all situations while I was a feisty firecracker. If you guys think I’m introverted, he was even more so. He was very observant… which is why I think he started giving me notebooks as gifts. 

I don’t remember which birthday it was but it became an annual tradition. Every year I would get at least one notebook and some pens from him. That tradition continued until my 18th birthday. That year he added two significant gifts: an image of Christ knocking on a closed door and the answer to the question I had always wondered: why all the notebooks?

“Because you’re always writing. Always.” 

That was his simple reply. I hadn’t even thought about it but he was right. Every afternoon, we would get together at one of the tables next to the pool and we’d do homework. Or he would draw and I would write. It’s always been second nature to me; to write what I’m thinking or feeling. I was also writing down the crazy ideas that would pop into my mind. I wrote my first (completed) screenplay when I was only 15-16 years old. I wrote many parody songs before then. I entered my first writing contest when I was 10 years old and came in second place, something I was very proud of because I’d done it on my own. When I say I was a real-life Anne Shirley (protagonist of the Anne of Green Gables series) I mean it. 

From that point on, I was very aware of how much writing was a part of who I was (and still am). And I owe that to him. 

Sadly, we lost touch shortly before I turned 19 because that’s when he and his family moved away. A lot of people assumed we would end up together because of how much time we spent together and how well we got along… and that was ultimately what ended our friendship. 

Long story short, a parent (neither of mine) was very keen on having us get married very young and it was suggested that I be forced (yes, forced) into the marriage. I was 18 and he was 19 at the time. We never dated and I think I was in a relationship with someone else at the time. He and his family moved away shortly after that incident and we lost touch. The last time I talked to him was when I was about 20 years old, when he called to see how I was doing. I didn’t find out about what happened until after my father’s death many years later.

I don’t know what became of him. I recently found out that he had gotten bone cancer a few years ago but I don’t know if he passed from it or not. I think it was pretty advanced but don’t know the details or outcome. I pray for him regardless of whether he beat cancer or not. I have such lovely memories of him and our shared childhood adventures and that’s something I thank God for. 

This friend not only opened my eyes to my love for writing but, as I said, his gift on my first year of official adulthood became somewhat prophetic. I’ve spent more years of my adulthood as a writer than any other career. I also returned to the Church which wasn’t even on my radar at 18. He wasn’t Catholic but we’ve always had a lot of images and statues of saints at home so I think that inspired him to give me the image of Christ. 

Why am I bringing him up? Because I’ve been reflecting a lot on my friendships and past relationships lately. Never have I been more aware of how we truly are the company that we keep. I’ve noticed that certain friendships bring out the absolute best in me… while others have the opposite effect. Whatever my vocation is, community (my “tribe”) is so important. I want to make sure that I’m not only surrounded by people who will inspire and challenge me to become the best version of myself but that I can do the same for others. I’ve come to realize that those in my inner circle — those who I trust with my life and even my soul  — are few but that God has truly given me amazing friends. I know they’ll undoubtedly help me reach Heaven one day. They may not realize it now but God will show the fruits of their love one day. 

To all my close friends: thank you for putting up with my shenanigans. Thank you for loving me and not giving up on me, even when I make horrendous mistakes. 

To all my friends: thank you all for your friendships. I value each and every one of you. 

To my former friends: whether we’re no longer friends because we grew apart or because things ended badly, thank you. Thank you for what you taught me and for helping make me who I am now. 

And to R (my childhood best friend): thank you for helping me realize what I loved the most. Thank you for the respect you showed me, even as we tried to navigate through our crazy teen years surrounded by madness. I don’t know where you are now but I will always pray for you. 

Anyway, I think that’s all I can write about on this topic at this time. I know that God is opening up my eyes to my friendships and former relationships for a reason and I cannot wait to see what good will come of it. 

I hope you’re all doing well!

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! 

Feeling Like an Unloved Burden

I’ve had a couple of days to digest the diagnosis and either I’ve yet to hit a denial and depression stage or God has given me the graces to fully accept it, be completely at peace with it, and even feel joyful. I’m choosing to believe it’s the latter. 

I think a big part of this is because God never fails to speak to me through music or literature. This time it’s been through literature in the form of two books, The Commentary for Benedictine Oblates: On the Rule of St. Benedict by G.A. Simon and The Mirror of True Womanhood by Rev. Bernard O’Reilly. Being recently confined to staying in bed as much as possible (nothing worrisome; just a little relapse that will pass), I’ve had to let go and undo a lot of the negative thoughts that once consumed me when I felt like a burden due to my health and (now) physical limitations. 

As a good spiritual father would, St. Benedict spelled it out for me clearly thanks to his Holy Rule. As a Benedictine oblate, it is recommended that we read a little bit of the Holy Rule every day. Thanks to the lovely gift of the Commentary from my oblate sister (Sister Elisabeth), I can dive deeper into it. A couple of days ago, the Rule talked about how to treat those who are ill or unable to do things someone with their full health can do. This part really stuck out to me:

“If the brethren ought to see Christ in the person of His suffering member, the sick one on his part ought to recognize what he is for the others. He ought to ‘consider that it is for the honor of God’ that he is being served. He should lean on this Christ who lives and suffers in him, unite himself to Him and sanctify his sufferings through Him.”

Did I just tear up again, reading it? Yes, I did. I have always felt like a troublesome burden when I’ve been too sick to do anything. And that got multiplied when I lost my eyesight. This was a learned thought. I had people in my life who’ve made me feel like I truly was an unwanted inconvenience when they had to help me when I wasn’t feeling well. My poor friends tried to knock those silly thoughts out of my mind for years but they were so deeply imbedded in my mind and heart that it has taken me this long to finally begin to (slowly) root them out.

I have never thought about it the way it was presented in the Commentary; to think of my need as an opportunity to let others serve Christ. That is, in no way, to say that I am Christ or any other nonsense like that. As the comment stated, I have to think of it as a charitable act in allowing others to help me in order to serve Christ; to do for his little ones what he himself would (and did) do. In turn, I have to humble myself by asking for that help and accepting it as graciously as I can despite the decades of a reinforced message of being a burden to others in my time of need. 

That brings me to the aptly named Mirror of True Womanhood. The book was so beautiful. I read the original (not the one that was cut down by about 100 pages) and there was one story that really touched my heart, especially since it was a true story. 

Priests in Canada helped take care of and find homes for poor Irish immigrant children who were orphaned on the voyage to Canada. The Canadian (Catholic) faithful welcomed these children with open arms, taking as many as they could despite their own hardships. One particular woman was eager to find a little one as she was unable to have children of her own. She ached for a child to love as her own. Sadly, she got to the church too late; the priest informed her that all the children had been adopted. 

Heartbroken, she began walking out of the church when she heard the woeful whimpering of someone. She looked around and saw a small child, hidden away from everyone. As the woman moved closer, she was startled to see a little girl, physically disfigured from illness. The little girl was crying because no one had wanted to take her; her appearance had apparently made others uncomfortable and passed on her. The little girl was heartbroken because she felt that no one would or could love her; that no one would take her home. The woman, while initially taken aback by the little girl’s disfigured face and malnourishment, saw the beauty of the little girl. Opening her arms, she told the little girl she would be her mother and would love her. And she did. 

Of course, I’m skipping a lot of details and I’ve not told it as beautifully as Fr. O’Reilly did but you get the idea. And you may be able to guess why this story really hit home for me. 

I grew up with the (erroneous) belief that if I wasn’t “perfect” I would be unloved. Again, an unfortunate learned belief. I had to be the perfect daughter, earn the perfect grades, and do what I needed to to be (or seem) perfect. I made a lot of poor decisions as a result but the worst was believing that lie. 

When I thought I was meant to be a wife and mother, I thought about how no man would want to marry me because of my health issues. I didn’t voice these concerns until I was in my late 20s. Again, friends tried to break me of this belief but I couldn’t move past it. I thought it was beautiful to see men and women who married whom they loved despite physical conditions and health issues. Even so, I just couldn’t imagine any man wanting to help me carry the cross of my health. Then I met someone who said he didn’t care and wanted to help me carry that cross. While things obviously didn’t work out there, the experience helped start to break me out of that mentality. 

Reading the story of the little girl and the loving woman, I was reminded that my future spouse will love me, whether I miraculously regain my eyesight or not; whether I’ll be on medication for life or not. If my future Spouse is Christ, I don’t have to be told of his love for me. I know he will provide for me and love me despite (and even because) of my physical ailments. If my future spouse ends up being a mortal man, I know God will send me a man who will see me for who I am and love me in spite of the additional hardships that may result of my visual impairment. 

(side note: I will continue to include both possibilities when speaking of my vocation because, while I’m completely at peace and have my heart set on becoming a consecrated virgin, only God knows if that will ultimately be my true vocation. It wouldn’t be prudent to claim this is my vocation when the decision is not mine to make.)

As I’ve been saying for months, God is doing a lot of work in my heart and this is one of the bigger things he’s been working on. As I’ve said, I’m grateful for my visual impairment and the complicated health journey I’ve had because they’ve gotten me to this place. 

If I had remained unusually healthy as I had from childhood into my teens, I don’t think I would’ve gotten here. The pride and vanity would’ve probably gotten worse. Yet through these hardships God has humbled me and continues to (mercifully) make me smaller and weaker because it’s only in this state that I’ll be able to (hopefully) reach Heaven one day. 

Anyway, these are just some thoughts bouncing around in my mind lately. 

As I said, I’m going through a little relapse at the moment so I’m going to go rest for a little while. I need the nap to help me concentrate on finishing the articles I have due this week. 

I hope you’ve all been well. 

As always, thanks for listening and God bless. 

It’s Official: Permanent Visual Impairment with No Hope of Recovery

 

“Your case is 1 in a million. It’s so rare these days…” 

Those were the words my neuro-ophthalmologist said to me after getting the diagnosis I had been both dreading and ready for: permanent damage and permanent disability. 

There is no hope for recovery and complete healing of my optic nerve atrophy. I will never be able to drive my car again (which I will have to sell). I’ll never go back to a “normal” life again. 

That’s not to say it’s all bad news. There has been a lot of improvement with my eyes. All the physical structures healed as much as they could. The dryness of my eyes is gone for the first time in years. The whiteness on my eyes and nerves from the severe vitamin A deficiency are gone. The swelling of my optic nerves is gone. 

But the atrophy is there. The damage has been done. The swelling went on for so long that the damage is irreversible. 

I’m 1 in a million. A rare case in our modern times. Yeah, okay, but I was hoping to be insignificant and hidden, Lord. But I can’t always get what I want so… a rare case I shall be. 

How many of you would be surprised to hear (read) me say that I’m actually happy I got this diagnosis? No, I’m not happy that I’ll be permanently disabled. I’m not happy that I’ll never be able to see as I used to. No, I’m not happy about the big changes I’ll be forced to make in such short time and with limited (and basically no additional) resources. But there’s so many reasons why I’m incredibly grateful for this diagnosis. 

The first thing I thought was, “Thank You, God, for the permanence of this condition because it’ll keep me close to You.” Having this means I will be able to offer something up on a daily basis, multiple times a day. If all I can do for the Church is offer up all the hardships and little inconveniences I’ll endure for the rest of my life with this condition, I’m grateful for it. 

This is going to help humble me. I hope it breaks my stubborn pride; my stubborn independence. I haven’t had the luxury of doing everything for myself in over a year but now I know this will be my new normal. I will have to rely on the generosity of others and get over myself to ask for help when I need it. One of the hardest things for me to do is ask for help because I was raised to never rely on anyone but myself. I can’t do that anymore. 

I don’t know why but I feel like this is exactly what I need to root out all the vices I struggle with. I also feel like this is going to help thaw that hardened heart of stone I have. Like I said, as odd as it sounds, I’m so grateful for this condition and now the official diagnosis. 

Does this mean I’ll stop asking Bl. Carlo for his intercession? Nope! We’re going to keep praying. Now that it’s an official diagnosis and I’m medically disabled as it’s considered a permanent and lifelong condition, the restoration of my eyesight would be considered s full-fledged miracle. If it’s God’s Will, my eyesight will get restored through Bl. Carlo’s intercession, either hopefully helping his canonization cause or being another miracle attributed to his intercession. If there’s one thing St. Therese has taught me lately it’s to have the “audacity” to be bold enough to hope and pray for that miracle. 

If it’s God’s will that I stay visually impaired for life, I’m going to make the most of it. I’ve already looked into what changes I’ll need to make now that we have an official diagnosis. I’ll need a white walking cane (which my insurance refuses to cover) when I go out on my own. I’ll need a couple of things to make it possible for me to feed myself safely (read: to not burn or cut myself) when my mom is too sick to help me. Lots of little things I’ll need to acquire to make life a little easier but I’ll do that slowly as I have the means to do it. 

I already have a pretty good system when it comes to writing so I’ll just need another thing to make things easier but that’ll l happen when it happens. 

A neighbor is interested in my car and we already talked about that last night; he’s going to take care of what needs to be taken care of for a smooth transfer of ownership. He’s helped us with car issues in the past so it seems fitting that he’ll end up with it. 

Everything else will get figured out as I need to. 

I don’t know how this will change things on a spiritual level. I’m guessing it’ll be good. Getting rid of my car will mean one less material possession and also a lot of practice with patience as I will now rely solely on the Paratransit system that is notoriously late and takes so long to get from point A to point B. As I mentioned, having to rely on others will help me with my pride. And, as I’ve written over the years, I’ve always felt closer to Christ when suffering physical ailments so this can only help strengthen my relationship with him. 

How will this affect my vocation discernment? I don’t know. I won’t be able to work to be financially independent. I’ll be able to do freelance writing but that won’t earn me enough to live off of. I’ve already been warned that the SSA (Social Security Administration) will most likely deny me disability aid more than once when I apply because they’re just difficult like that. One of the big requirements to be a CV is to show that I won’t be a financial burden to the archdiocese so we’ll see how that goes. This sounds like a good additional intention for the 54-day Rosary novena; that if it’s God’s Will that i become a consecrated virgin, that I will get some sort of financial aid to fulfill that requirement. If not… well… I can’t imagine getting married (or any guy wanting to carry this heavy cross with me) so… it’ll be interesting to see where this goes. I trust God and I know He’ll clear the way for whatever path He has in store for me.  

Anyway, I’m sure I’ll have more to write as this all sinks in. For now I’m full of gratitude and even a little bit of joy. I know, I know… I’m weird. lol. 

Anyway, I feel completely depleted (I’ve been feeling a little off and haven’t slept well in several days) so I think I’ll keep listening to Andy Serkis narrating The Fellowship of the Ring while I give myself a little break from everything. 

Please don’t feel bad or sorry for me. I certainly don’t feel bad about this situation whatsoever. I blame St. Therese and the Divine Love renewal I’m almost done with. lol. I see what you did there, Holy Spirit. lol. 

I hope you have all been well lately. :)

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! ❤️

The One Where I Spill My Guts

As I mentioned a few posts ago, God had been going a lot of interior renovations in my heart. Since starting the 54_day Rosary novena a couple of days ago, a lot of what He’s been opening my eyes to for months has become so glaringly obvious that I can no longer deny certain things.

I’ve become selfish. 

I’ve become more of a perfectionist and it’s occasionally turned into terrible frustration. 

I’ve closed my heart to everyone. 

I’ve become someone I don’t like. 

BUT… God has also shown me that not all is lost. Instead of beating myself up for these character traits that I absolutely detest in myself and letting my melancholic temperament take over, He has reminded me that I’m not there these things. Yes, they are a part of me but they don’t have to define me or even becoming a permanent part of me. 

Those who know the trauma I’ve been through (most of which I’ve not publicly shared) can — and have! — accredited these negative traits to what I’ve been through. Not as an excuse to keep acting this way but as an explanation so I can work through it. 

I became selfish when I lost my ability to work more and my savings were depleted. I became more aware of what little I had (financially) and how much I need to make a little last a long time. I also became selfish with my time. Having secondary adrenal insufficiency and having to recover from the year I had last year into the beginning of this year made rest a necessary priority. But I got too used to it — focusing too much on myself and my needs — that I seem to have forgotten what a healthy balance is. 

The perfectionism got worse when I lost my eyesight. I couldn’t do things myself and not getting things done the way I had asked frustrated me. And it still does, though I’m working on it. 

The closing of my heart? That goes back to losing my dad. It’s been 12 years now and I still have that dad-shaped hole in my life. He was the only person I ever truly felt loved me so losing him was a massive blow I’ve never been able to recover from. 

All of these things (and much more) have changed who I am, for better or for worse. I think it’s for worse. Much worse. But, again, not all is lost. I know what’s at the root of all of these things. God is showing me, slowly at time and all at once at other times. He’s showing me the things that have shaped me. He’s shown me where the wounds have come from and how deeply they go in my heart. (I feel deeply and am hurt easily, though I don’t always show it). He has shown me how these things can easily throw me off the path He seems to want me to go down on. 

And He has shown me what I need to do to work on healing and changing for the better. Never has my prayer intention list for this annual Rosary novena been as long, as specific, or as heart-breaking and honest as it is this time around. It’s still selfish in nature but for good. Without sharing all the intentions, let’s just say that I’m asking God to give me the graces to forgive those who’ve hurt me, to learn how to better manage my faults, and how to look at the trauma I’ve been through in a way that I can acknowledge it yet not let it affect me as it has recently. It’s about healing so I can become worthy of Heaven one day. I can’t do that with the anger, resentment, regret, and mourning that I’ve been struggling with lately. Because I *have* been struggling with it. Thankfully, I studied enough psychology to know that this is all because I’ve just recently unrooted the causes and it’s still fresh pain. It’s going to take a lot of work but I’m willing to put in the work because God has not given up on me. 

God sees and knows all. He knows when I do dumb things and why I do them… but he also knows what’s in my heart. He sees me fall flat on my face in spectacular fashion yet He’s always there, patiently waiting for me to get over myself and my stubborn pride before I ask for His help. The parable of the Prodigal Son has been a reoccurring theme in my life these last couple of weeks as I’ve made some major mistakes. He’s opened up His arms and has welcomed me back after my cotton-headed ninny-muggins moments. He has reminded me that He loves me, flaws and all. 

God has shown me my worth. He has shown me that this is only temporary and that I’m not a total lost cause. He has shown me how He still loves me and how He is next to me when I’m on my knees, at times angry and at times heartbroken, tears flowing down my face. 

Our Lady and St. Therese are also there with me. I give thanks to God for giving me such a vivid imagination because I can clearly see them, one on either side of me, holding my hands when I’m in the most pained and most repentant states. 

I’ve seen myself at the foot of the Cross, on my knees, with St. Mary Magdalene covering me from the rain with her embrace. 

I’ve pictured Blessed Carlo Acutis reminding me that I’m stronger than I think; that he’s in my corner, interceding for (at least) the physical and some of the spiritual wounds I have. 

I have St. Philomena and St. Joan of Arc reminding me of the strength and courage I’m capable of mustering up. 

I have St. Kateri reminding me of what’s deep in my heart and how no one will be able to take that away from me. 

These saints, and many more, are helping me in their own ways. I’m learning from them. About humility. The “audacity” to be bold enough to ask God to make me a saint through littleness. About repentance. About strength and courage. About hope and love of others. About being true to myself and not fearing loving Christ with my whole heart. 

Ah, yes. Christ. He’s there as well. He holds my heart. He knows how I long to fall deeper in love with him. He knows what a broken, wounded, flawed bride I would be but, yet, it doesn’t seem like he minds too much as he continues to use my love languages of flowers and music to unexpectedly remind me of how much he loves me and how much I already love him. Anyone remember the blog post I wrote in January 2018 when I wrote that I heard “let (Christ) court you”? This was almost 2 years before I officially began discerning consecrated virginity. I feel like lately he’s reminding me that he has chosen me as his potential bride. He loves me as I am, ugly and horrible parts included, and he can help me through it. Just as an earthly spouse is meant to help their spouse get to Heaven through their vocation of marriage, Christ is more than willing to take me on and do the same for me as a consecrated virgin. I’m still waiting for the chance to talk to Archbishop Gómez to confirm this but I’m at peace either way. 

So, what’s the message of the blog post? I don’t know. I just want to write down my thoughts and feelings somewhere. I guess it’s about hope and perseverance. 

I’ve been through things I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I feel like I’ve aged so much in just the last 2 years. But I am grateful for it all. Even in my moments of anger, resentment, pain, and sadness, I can see that this is for my own good. We all have to go through this “vale of tears” but it’s not for eternity. All I have to do is cling onto my (potential) future Spouse, my “saint squad”, and remind myself that my Heavenly Father will never give up on me. 

Anyway, that’s all I wanted to share. Sorry if it’s a little on the heavy side but, like I said, this is something that was on my heart to share. Even if no one reads it or if it invites ridicule, I 1000% stand by what I wrote as it’s what I think and feel. 

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to listen to a bit of music before I have to take my evening blood pressure reading. Yes, I get it checked twice a day to make sure my (naturally low) blood pressure doesn’t get low enough to need a hospital visit. Secondary adrenal insufficiency people problems. lol. 

I hope you are all well. 

Thanks for reading (if anyone still is) and God bless.