Lol I think I’m beginning a bad trend here: for the third
consecutive year, I’m beginning my reflections on the year that will soon be
was begins again on the final day of the year. XD
Physically-wise: thankfully, I’ve managed to not totally
stack it this year … yet. There’s still like five hours and ten minutes left in
this year; plenty of time for me to lose balance and fall over. XD >< I
just look on the bright side: after falling, I can tell myself to just forget
that experience because it’s 2022 soon and time for new beginnings! XD
Sometimes I wonder does mother understand how incredibly
*frustrating* it is to live inside a body that doesn’t function like you expect
it to. Sure, standing and walking comes to mother as naturally as breathing
does and because of that she for some reason acts like it’s just as easy for
me… I would’ve thought that everybody could tell by just glancing at us that
her life is a *squillion* (can someone please teach me how many zeroes are in a
squillion?) times easier for her than my
life is for me, but somehow mother has got this assumption that only she
struggles, only she suffers, that she struggles the most, that she suffers the
most and that my life is so piss *EASY* for me because I’ve got carers who do everything
for me! lol, I’m sorry if this makes me a bad person, but sometimes I can’t
help but wish that were true! Take for example the ringing phone. Me: will let
the phone ring out, coz if I get up and try to answer it I might fall and not
be able to get back upright. Mother: ooh, the phone’s ringing! Someone for me
to yap to! She rushes *so desperately* for the phone that she even *sprains her
back* in the process! XD
Work-wise: another section mother gets a mention in. earlier
this year, I contacted some disability employment advisor in the hopes they
could find me paid work. I was sent a Centrelink form, told to see my GP, get
that filled out and return to them. Since I’m Facebook friends with my GP, I
just sent him the form through Facebook Messenger and asked him would he please
fill out, scan and return to me? Dr. Ku said that Messenger wasn’t a very
reliable means for sharing details but he’d get his receptionist to ring me and
help me organise a time to see him. Only the receptionist didn’t ring my mobile
number, she rang mother’s! >< Unfortunately, mother believes I’m too
disabled to hold down a job and she just shut the nurse down. Sheesh, it’s not
like I’m UNWILLING to work; I’m like DESPERATE to find paid work but mother
seems to get a kick outta leaving me reliant on her. *sigh* Suppose I can only
keep trying next year to find paid work. I’ll do ANYTHING as long as I can do
it whilst seated and with one hand I can type @ 31WPM.
Spiritually-wise: about five point one five years ago, I
attended our church’s English camp and the speaker was Steve Nation. I missed
most of his final morning talk because I got into a D&M with his wife
KeiYing, who taught me to pray to God and ask Him to bridge the gap. Like, I’ve
experienced nothing but God’s cruelty and unfaithfulness but God continuously
boasts in the Bible of how loving, etc. He is. She suggested I pray to him and
ask him to bridge the gap, to show me where I’m not getting how God really is.
After doing that for five years with absolutely no response, I contacted
KeiYing and asked her where was I going wrong?
She replied saying she’d pray for me. I’m not really sure
how much practical help praying for someone can be, but I suppose having anyone
interceding for you helps?
2022 will mark fifteen years since the cruel and unfaithful
God so wantonly destroyed my life with the disabling brain tumour … possibly
the best fifteen years of my life. At this age (I’m turning three point five
decades old next year) I should’ve finished my uni degree, I should be working
and earning a full-time salary, I should be starting a family and I should be
preparing my parents for retirement. Instead, here they are, still working
their butts off (well, my dearest dad works fulltime Monday till Friday) while
mother just works two half days each week and here I am, disabled, useless and
abandoned by God. Yes, I hate myself for it. I hate God more, though, coz He’s
the One that did this (the brain injury) to me. or if He didn’t, He let it
happen. To me, there’s no difference. He’s the One to blame for this situation
I’m in.
but what can I do, other than continue to pray to God,
asking Him to bridge the gap? Only I must remind myself that if you don’t
expect anything, you won’t be disappointed when nothing happens. Like, what
then, when God doesn’t come through for you? >< *sigh* I remember writing
last year about how much I *disliked* the cruel and unfaithful God. Like, apart
from believing that He sent Jesus to dir for our sins and that we will get
eternal life in heaven with Him if we believe that He exists, is there any
other requirement that must be satisfied before you’re allowed into heaven? I’m
hoping that acknowledging Him as the One who created everything and sent His son
to die on the cross for us will be enough and that aa condition like loving God
isn’t required, because if it is, could anyone please teach me how to love a
God that’s not done well by me whatsoever? And yet I’m stuck with him; I can’t
jolly well commit apostasy and still expect to be reunited with my most beloved
maternal grandma in heaven … if only their could be some other way into heaven.
If there were ANY other way to get into heaven without needing God I’d take it
in a jiffy. In an instantno second chances. No looking back. Just bye God, I’m
leaving You for Someone who actually can gimme a hope, a life and a future,
precisely what you’ve so cruelly denied me. but nope. I’m stuck with God.
*sigh*
Sporting-wise: a definite highlight for the year was
watching the delayed Tokyo Olympics! I had much fun watching the opening and
closing ceremonies; usually I must let mother boot m,e off to bed at the
piss-early time of 9:45 if I want her to give my eyes some eye ointment and my
left ankle a very brief rub, but for the Opening Ceremony I told her since this
only happens once every four years I’d like to watch it all and get myself to
bed afterwards, thanks.
Unfortunately, the mighty maroons fell to the smelly Blues
in the Origin this year, but at least we saved face by winning the last game
and thus denying them their last clean sweep since 2000! This year, most
Thursdays I have a carer called Karina who comes to help me up and take me out
since mother woirks a halfday every Thursday; Karina is a smelly Blue! After
NSW won the first match I glared at her and said
Unfortunately, this also hasn’t been a good year for the
Broncos. While they escaped from securing their second wooden spoon, they only
managed to achieve one spot high, fifteenth. I asked Uncle Colbert if the
Broncos only managed to climb up one spot on the ladder every year, when would
we finally win the premiership again? Uncle Colbert did the maths calculations
and replied sometimes in the 2030s; cripes, I’ll be in my FIFTIES them!
Hopefully they can pull their socks up and return to playing finals football
and lifting that premiership trophy much sooner, like, next year! XD
Everything else wise: for some reason, I’ve remembered heaps
less dreams than I did last year? That’s alright, because I’ve REACHED THE FOOD
AGAIN!! :D Think the oddest dream I remembered having this year was that
somehow I’d become a normal-type Pokemon … the most amusing dream I had was
that my male UQ physio teacher (the guy five years younger than me who featured
in my Xmas Greetings this year since he shouted me a hot chocolate!) had become
a PIMP! Unsure if he would’ve been offended had I told him about this dream, I
asked the more senior teacher (she’s in her mid-fifties) for permission before
telling him; Sonia said sure go ahead he’ll love it and sure enough, Mr.
Jig-Air (how his name’s pronounced but not how it’s spelt coz he’s got French
ancestors somewhere) had doubled over and roared with laughter! XD
The parents and I have both been double-vaccinated; once
2022 arrives mother says she’ll ring the GP and book us in for our booster
shots. The drama of me getting my first vaccine dose almost made it into my
Xmas Greetings this year! Mother got the jab first since she’s actually a
registered nurse and has been giving those jabs herself; I got mine fairly
early on also because I had a brain injury back in 2007 and am considered in
the ‘vulnerable’ category. The morning before mother had taken me to get my
first jab, she’d rung the hospital beforehand and confirmed that she was right
to bring me in. At the entrance to the hospital was a nurse standing behind some
lectern; when we approach the nurse looks up and snaps did we have an
appointment? Mother calmly replies that no, we don’t have an appointment but
that she rang the hospital earlier this morning to ask could she bring her
disabled daughter (me) into get the vaccine jab and was told yes, but the
unfriendly nurse like HISSES no, you can’t proceed without an appointment! From
the side wall, a door opens and some old bloke walks out; I originally thought
he was a wardie but mother later tells me that he was just a volunteer. Upon seeing
us, he walks over to where mother and I are standing and asks me, “You here for
the jab?” When I nod wordlessly, he just says “Follow me,” turns around and
starts walking further into the hospital. I glance at mother then start following
the old guy; mother likewise follows me. the screechy nurse squawks in protest,
racing after us, flapping her arms in protest and screeching, “Stop! You musn’t
proceed without an appointment!” From elsewhere a second nurse joins in the
heckling; with both women screeching at my mother waving their arms around, I’m
like, ah, should we just turn around and go back the way we came? These two
nurses don’t look like they’re gonna stop until we accede to their demands…
Suddenly, the old guy stops and turns around. Expression foreboding, he spits
one word out at the two nurses. “Disability.” And just like that, they silently
melt away! Lol, would that be called playing the disability card? Coz if so, I didn’t
play it, the old guy played it for me!
Last year, the parents randomly demanded ib start getting my
own cutlery before meals. I didn’t protest coz it seemed a reasonable request,
considering that the cruel and unfaithful God has left me too freaking disabled
to help in with the food prep. Oh! More about that later. I’ve continued
recording down which meals I’ve had to get cutlery for, with the hope that for
*one* measely day each month I’d be exempt from getting myself cutlery for *all
three meals* that day? Only I’ve decided I’ll not continue that next year,
since for the past THREE MONTHS, I’ve been TOTALLY EXEMPT from having to get
myself cutlery for ALL THREE MEALS! Mother’s new instruction: I pour myself one
full mug of water for breakfast, she’ll get me a spoon. Same with lunch, coz I usually
wash lunch down with one mug of peppermint tea/Chinese/herbal/green tea. Deal!
Bacj to food prep: this year, I’ve begun cooking wqith the
OT! She taught mother to purchase a one-handed chopping board for me. it’s
designed for people likje me that only have one functioning hand with which to
holds things with. Then how do you hold round objects like onions and tomatoes
still? The one-handed chopopping board’s so cool, it even comes with SPIKES
with which to impale the poor ingredient on! I’ve had much fun wailing for the
poor ingredient, going ouch, and sometimes just grunting to pretend I’m being
brave; for ingredients like tomatoes that bleed reed I can wail dramatically
that oww they’re bleeding to death! My former OT Alyssa was silly and of
absolutely help to thew poor ingredients I was voicing for; she’d just double over
with laughter and be of absolutely zero help to the poor ingredient. My current
OT, Tiff, is made of sterner stuff: when I wail very dramatically for the poor
ingredients that are getting hacked up, she just smirks and says sorry but you’re
dying for a very good cause. XD
Ooh, less than thirty minutes left; betta plan out some new
years’ resolutions.
As always, I must continue to try and improve my mobility. Next
year will mark fifteen years since the cruel and unfaithful God totally
destroyed my life with the disabling brain tumour, I can only mourn a life wasted.
>< Still doesn’t change the fact that everyday I’ve gotta try my best to
improve my mobility, walking longer, faster, more steadily, etc. etc. etc. keep
on keeping on, you know? Apparently it’s no pain no gain; for me, it’s more
like lotsa pain very little gain but I’ve still gotta keep at it. Spending another
year without totally stacking it also sounds right! I’ve had several close
shaves this year, but have managed to escape landing flat on my butt! The closest
shave I’ve had was when I went for my fortnightly shopping trip to Sunnybank
Hills Shoppingtown with Tina, I was pushing the trolley when suddenly I tripped,
fell, slammed my back and went down! Instinctively, I threw out my ‘good’ leg
and landed like in a half crouch with my butt like 2cm from the floor; in the
next second, the woman buying her groceries beside me and spun around and
caught my waist in a bear hug! She exclaimed are you alright?! I exclaimed
thanks!
I promise to keep working hard on all my therapies; to
myself I promise I’ll keep trying to find properly paid work! I know mother
totally believes I’m too fricking disabled to hold down paid work but I’m
determined not to have to keep relying on her for everything so will keep
trying to secure employment despite her hindrance!
Hmm, this years reflections are significantly shorter but I’d
better end them now coz the parents have stayed online to watch 2022 enter with
me! no time to proofread and edit; apoologies for all the mistakes contained
therein!
Cheers,
Em. ^^
P.S. Next post here … umm, what I spent New Years’ Day
doing? Plan to be up before midday!
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