Obsession Obsession

I’ve got a problem.  I’ve gotten a little obsessive lately.  Unfortunately, I’m not obsessing over happy things, like rainbows and bubbles and butterflies.  I need a hobby I guess, something that doesn’t lend itself to simultaneous thinking.  Perhaps it’s time to put the computer away for a bit.  I think too much at the computer.

I’m pretty much always obsessing over the PWS thing.  Am I doing enough or too much?  What happens if our insurance runs out?  Does our insurance have cap?  How long will it cover the growth hormone?  How much can I get for a kidney?  Will Hope become autistic?  Will I lose her to autism, respiratory issues, etc….  What if she never is able to live independently?  What if she always lives with us?  What if she does want to live on her own?  What if she leaves us?  What if something happens to Grace and Hope is left alone?  What if something happens to Hope and Grace is left alone?  What if we can’t afford to keep me home forever?  What if I have to go to work and Hope has to go to daycare and they feed her too much?

You see where I’m going with this….

Now there’s the whole Prop 8 thing.  I don’t think that people who aren’t officially part of “the gays” really understand just how intensely personal this thing is to us.  It’s not just another stupid proposition, where everyone is entitled to their opinion and it’s just politics, nothing to get riled up over.  Believe me, I wish I could be that detached!  We’ve got our first Yes on 8 “Protect Marriage” yard sign up in our neighborhood, three doors down from us.  The nice Mormon people who bring us carmel corn and Mormon movies at Christmas.  Not surprising, but still…I do take it personally.  Do they know that the gays live down the street?  Maybe.  Does it matter?  Not to me.  Next door to them is a Yes on 8 bumper sticker, the house where the mom thinks it’s o.k. to let her two toddlers play in the street as long as she puts up a little yellow “kids crossing” sign.  I’ll remember who had the signs up.  I still remember some of the places I saw the Prop 22 signs years ago.  It is personal, it’s my life, it’s my family, and I am so sick of being the bait to draw “the base” to the polls every two years (for an inside look, a scary look, at “the base” read the comments here).  I am beyond hypersensitive about this, seriously, I may need to be sedated until November 4.  I’m getting cranky and combative on this issue and not really liking myself much that way.

You see, I started blogging because I felt like I wasn’t being productive enough.  I was sitting and pumping a dozen times a day or sitting and waiting for the next feeding.  I was feeling isolated, confused, and depressed.  I needed a way to make myself think through and deal with things.  I had run out of television shows to watch, and felt bad just watching t.v. anyway.  But now, I think I’m thinking too much and I’m driving myself crazy.

I still can’t focus enough to read a book, I’ve tried.  Crocheting and needlepoint aren’t appealing to me either at the moment.  

Maybe I should get into online gaming, wear a headset and go on a quest with a bunch of teenage boys from Hungary or something.

Maybe I should get a job.

Maybe I should try to get into soap operas, TiVo a bunch during the day, then watch them all late at night after everyone’s gone to sleep.  

I could go to beauty school, they’re open late.

I’m losin’ it.

I think I need to wean myself off the computer.  I’m going to turn it off now.  For 24 hours.  Like an early, albeit short, Lent.

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