don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows
So, sometime Monday night I fucked my wrist pretty badly -- dislocations are fun! -- and the ice pack and I have been good friends since. As well as the heavy-duty drugs. I have spent the last two days in a pretty constant medication haze.
This is not why I am writing this post. (And no need for "feel better soon!" type comments -- the mental state I'm in, more about that in a nonce, those are likely to do more harm than good right now.) No, I am updating to share yet another reason why I love my fiancée to bits: I grumbled that the swelling in my fingers made me have to take off my (literally Mickey Mouse) engagement ring, because it was too small to accomodate my swollen fingers, and my ring finger felt bare without it. So, she came over a minute later with a scrap of yarn from her weaving-in-ends project (this is yet another reason why I love her: if I leave a finished knit lying around, the Weaving In Ends Fairy will come along eventually), wraps it around my finger a few times, and tucks in the ends. So now I have a temporary turquoise cotton yarn engagement ring!
(The wrist is creeping back to "okay", slowly but surely. Although that might be the drugs. Of which I have taken rather a lot today. At the very least, it no longer makes me want to whimper every time i move my thumb or my pinky finger, which was causing typing difficulty, as I have never been able to train myself to alternate hands for spacing and/or shift-keying.)
I don't know whether it's the pain, the weather, or the season, but I've also spent the last two days in a black cloud of dysthymic funk, in which a) nothing I do is good enough; b) I am accomplishing absolutely nothing with my life; c) the things I have done are all flawed or worthless in some fashion; d) all I can see are the things I'm not doing; e) I have zero energy to actually accomplish anything at all. Intellectually, I know that none of this is true. It is very hard to convince the brain of this.
...In fact, I kind of don't think I can handle comments at all right now, of any stripe, so I shall disable comments. And go back to smiling down at the bright turquoise scrap of yarn around my left ring finger. Because that's something that can make me smile, black funk and dislocated wrist aside.
On Dreamwidth:
comments | comment (OpenID)
This is not why I am writing this post. (And no need for "feel better soon!" type comments -- the mental state I'm in, more about that in a nonce, those are likely to do more harm than good right now.) No, I am updating to share yet another reason why I love my fiancée to bits: I grumbled that the swelling in my fingers made me have to take off my (literally Mickey Mouse) engagement ring, because it was too small to accomodate my swollen fingers, and my ring finger felt bare without it. So, she came over a minute later with a scrap of yarn from her weaving-in-ends project (this is yet another reason why I love her: if I leave a finished knit lying around, the Weaving In Ends Fairy will come along eventually), wraps it around my finger a few times, and tucks in the ends. So now I have a temporary turquoise cotton yarn engagement ring!
(The wrist is creeping back to "okay", slowly but surely. Although that might be the drugs. Of which I have taken rather a lot today. At the very least, it no longer makes me want to whimper every time i move my thumb or my pinky finger, which was causing typing difficulty, as I have never been able to train myself to alternate hands for spacing and/or shift-keying.)
I don't know whether it's the pain, the weather, or the season, but I've also spent the last two days in a black cloud of dysthymic funk, in which a) nothing I do is good enough; b) I am accomplishing absolutely nothing with my life; c) the things I have done are all flawed or worthless in some fashion; d) all I can see are the things I'm not doing; e) I have zero energy to actually accomplish anything at all. Intellectually, I know that none of this is true. It is very hard to convince the brain of this.
...In fact, I kind of don't think I can handle comments at all right now, of any stripe, so I shall disable comments. And go back to smiling down at the bright turquoise scrap of yarn around my left ring finger. Because that's something that can make me smile, black funk and dislocated wrist aside.
On Dreamwidth:
comments | comment (OpenID)