Food issues

We went to a pizzeria for dinner today. I generally dislikes pizzerias because of how the smell often are downright disgusting to me (which also is connected to my mood), but I didn’t get such a reading from myself today when T suggested it. We also went to one of my personal favourites so I thought everything would be fine.

We chose to eat there and as the food arrived I took my Metformin and swallowed it with some liquid. But when I’m in a period where I have issues with swallowing pills/food/liquid, as I am today, it never goes down smoothly. I’ve learned to force it down anyway but that often leaves me feeling sick to my stomach which in turn makes it very hard to eat at all.

T noticed my discomfort but he can’t really do anything about it. He did try to comfort me though and told me to eat whatever I felt was appealing, even if it just was the french fries. Sometimes the nausea goes away when I’ve begun eating so it’s always worth trying to eat in small bites, especially if the nausea was induced by my diabetes. But there was no such luck today. I forced myself to eat half of the portion anyway, until I couldn’t take it any more. I gave up in the end though and went for the veggies instead. But it is a shame, the chicken kebab sounded so tasty 😞☹️

I’m guessing parts of this is caused by the depression. For most of my adult life I have had similar issues (I wrote more about it here), but when my mood lifts a bit, so does the problems. It have been very intense these past three years, I’ve had a never ending nausea for so long by now. But I do remember having a burger some time ago, when my mood was up, and it was so good. I couldn’t remember the last time it had tasted that good, I was blown out of my mind.

But I’m very saddened that it is like this. I wish it would be better and more stable so I don’t have to force myself to anything. It’s hard enough as it is to steer clear of the sweets and candy and now more then ever do I need to mind what I’m eating, with the high cholesterol and what not. But all this makes me want to tell everything to sod off and go drown my sorrows in chocolate ice cream. But that’s not a good solution. Not at all.

Twitch, Christmas & the new apartment

I felt like I had gotten stuck in a rut with my streaming. I kept leaning heavily against Diablo 3, afraid to loose viewers if I played something else. But still I spoke about myself as a variety streamer, not focusing on one game only. Something needed to change and I finally mustered enough courage to play something completely different. It began with Agatha Knife, followed by Dishonored 2 and now I’m deep in Sundered. It was terrifying making the change, I’m still a bit afraid that I will wake up to no followers or viewers at all. But it doesn’t really work like that, does it? With this change I also see who comes to my channel because of me rather then the game I play. But I feel comfortable with the situation as it is now. A few unfollows are bound to happen before the channel (and me) finds where it will stand but as long as the inflow in bigger then the outflow, I don’t think I have much to worry about.

Other then that thoughts of Christmas has invaded my brain. It always happens as Christmas is a time of turbulence rather then joy for me. It has always been like this, but growing up I didn’t understand just how twisted it had been. The recent (well, 5 years so not that recent maybe) strain on my relationship to my mother is also making itself known around this time. For some reason she often tries to re-establish a connection between us around Christmas. It always feels like she does this because she should, not want. I’m perfectly fine without relationships I should have, especially when they have caused the kind of wounds this particular relationship has. Having celebrated Christmas with my husbands family for many years now, I finally understand what should and shouldn’t be.

But we got a lot on our minds right now. T has a huge workload with final examinations for the semester coming up this next week and I’ve been gripped by this irrational fear that the moving company we booked won’t come through as planned. My mind is buzzing with all the details before the move and I’m both incredibly happy and completely stressed out at the same time. Things like I haven’t started packing yet, but why should I? We don’t even know when we’re due to move yet. The neighbours in the house next to ours haven’t even started moving in yet and the final inspection dates for our house is still to be released. But still, when I saw the pictures taken from one of our neighbours apartments.. I almost began weeping with joy. This isn’t from our apartment, but it seems to be pretty similar to the one we will get.

But I can’t seem catch up on my sleepiness and my fingers itches constantly as I feel the need to do something. No one really knows what will happen for Christmas though. My mother-in-law is going on a vacation over the holidays this year so the traditional celebrations is kind of left out there hanging. I know T wouldn’t mind skipping it all together, but it would be the first year ever that we didn’t do any kind of celebration. I would also have liked to go on some kind of trip, but since we’re so close to buying the apartment, we can’t really afford anything like that.

My home is my castle (cont)

I ended yesterdays post with the line “I’m not ready to let go of this place just yet”. Since then I’ve read and re-read (like I always do) the post and this particular line got me thinking. It’s true I’ve always been protective of who I let into my home but for this apartment it’s particularly sensitive, and I asked myself Why?

As I went over it with T yesterday after I received the text, it hit me. We’ve been living here for 10 years. I have never, in my whole life, stayed at one place for so long. Due to my mother’s diagnoses we have always moved around quite a lot. Mostly we moved within my childhood city but a few times we adventured out into the great unknown and at most we stayed about a year in the same place. But often we headed to a new place much quicker then that. At 14 years old, I had moved 17 times in my life. 10 times within the city limit, 4 times outside the municipality and 2 times several hundred of kilometers away.

When I got my own place at 15 years old, I stayed there for less then a year. Then I moved much further south since I wanted to attend a specific private school and stayed in that city for about 8 months. Then I met my future husband and soon after I moved to “his” city as I had trouble with finding a place to live in the city where the school was located. But in that first, super small apartment I got in “his” city, we stayed for 6 years. Then we got this apartment, to which we moved a few months after we married, and here we still are.

If it hadn’t been for SJ (Swedish Railways) and the train commuting being such a hassle for him, we would probably never even thought about moving at all. That and the small lecture I got from my father two years ago really set things into motion. With less then 3 months away I can’t really decide what I feel. I’m both exited and saddened. I know very well how to pack and care for all those things, it’s leaving this safe haven I think I’m mostly afraid of.

T has said that he hope that this will be the last move we have to make, for like, ever. I smiled a little when he said it but you know what? I also hope that we will live there for the rest of our days. I have moved around enough to cover several lifetimes, I’m ready to settle down. There’s something about staying for so long at one place and I think I like it.

My home is my castle

Earlier tonight our landlord texted me saying that he was holding a viewing of our apartment tomorrow at 11.00 (a.m.). Let me clarify that, at 19.50 (7.50 p.m.) a Sunday evening he sent a text message telling me he was going to hold a showing of our apartment. No question if it was alright, just one line stating “Hi, viewing of your apartment tomorrow at 11. /Landlord”.

This time the message did bear a readable signature so I guess I should be happy about that. But.. it did not sit well with me. I’m usually very restrictive of who I invite to my personal space, not only psychologically but also locally. My home is my castle, in every sense, and I will defend it with tooth and nail against visitors, wanted or unwanted.

I think this way of thinking came from finally having a space to call my own. Where no one can put me down, bully or harass me. A space were I can let my guard down and not constantly having to worry about maintaining the façade. Growing up I didn’t have such a space. I had a room, but I was never allowed any alone time and if I shut the door, I was pushed onto the guilt train for excluding her. I was told that family doesn’t close the door on each other because we care and caring is keeping the door (literally) open.

Castle_Neuschwanstein.jpg

This is hard to explain though, I know many take it extremely personal and I know it’s normal to invite your friends and family into your home. Some have looked at me like I’m a madman when I’ve said I just want to be left alone at home. I’m not interested in parties (at all to be honest) and I’d rather pay for some kind of restaurant or other place to keep the parties out of my rooms.

Of course I’d help a stranded relative or friend and offer them a place to sleep if their train or flight gets cancelled, but I will just as well also provide you with breakfast the next morning and drive you to the station or airport so you can be on your merry way.

We are moving into the new place with a strategy in the back of our minds though. We will hold some kind of fika or smaller party to let our families and friends come look at the new place before I have secured all the perimeters, dug the trench and installed the vault doors. We are kinda laughing at it, but we both know it will be for the best. That way everyone get what they want with as little friction as possible.

When it comes around though, I get that our landlord wants to showcase the apartment to secure a tenant that will be able to take over as soon as possible after we’ve left, I just wish he would have had better foresight and told me this a day or two in advance. But I guess there’s no time for that now.. I just don’t like the feeling of being rushed out. I’m not ready to let go of this place just yet.

Don’t put words in my mouth

Something I’ve witnessed the past year or so is an attitude that gets me wondering what people are really thinking with. It’s no secret me and T have decided against having children, biological or adopted. We have our reasons but the long and short of it is basically that neither of us have ever wanted that kind of life.

Now, this isn’t something that have always been set in stone, it took until I needed to make a choice regarding trying for a kid before the hysterectomy or not. I’ve seriously pondered this question for many, many years but I always came to the same conclusion. No. Just, No. But for a long time it was: “Not until I can be sure that I can provide for a person who will be completely depended on me for it’s survival”. So we kept pushing the question/decision in front of us year after year and since we were so young when we met, there were still time to figure things out. For some this meant that we would most definitely have children, for others the opposite. We’ve had all kinds of people predicting every possibly outcome but this have only annoyed us.

I was extremely nervous/anxious about all this when bringing it up with T in december 2014, after the gynaecologist appointment. He was as much of a part of this decision as I were, but what if he wanted something else? Could I go through a pregnancy and raise a child for his sake? Would he leave me when he found out that I didn’t want children of my own? Thinking back on my early life, I’ve never seen myself with a big family like so many others have described. Of course this didn’t mean anything, I could have if I wanted to. But that was just it, I have never wanted it.

As it turned out, T had also been thinking along the same lines. He had come to the conclusion that he could live with getting a child if that was something I really wanted, but in reality he didn’t want children of his own either. When we talked it over I was so relieved that I actually began crying out of sheer relief when we came to our decision.

But no matter how much I don’t want children of my own, I can still be happy for your sake. I’ve had several friends nervously approaching me with the happy news that they are expecting, almost to the point were they don’t even want to talk to me directly about it, and seriously believing that I would stop being friends with them.

I mean sure, I’ll admit it, I downright dislike children if truth be told and I have not exactly hid it. I will not scream with joy or faint once you reveal it. But if I know you and your partner have been trying for a little one, I will be happy for you regardless of my own opinions. Heck, I’ll be happy for you anyway, if you show me a sonogram and beam a huge smile at me I know this is something you wanted and I’ll share your happiness. What kind of friend would I be if I wasn’t happy for you when your dreams and wishes come true?

To some more sceptic friends I’ve had to put it into contrast with this comparison: Have you ever wanted to stream? No? Did you feel happy for me when I became a Twitch affiliate and was all over the place? Yes? See, you can be happy for me even if our dreams and goals aren’t the same. This goes two ways.