But trying to combat it.
I know that a lot of it is my living situation. I hate being in an enclosed unit, without a yard, and I feel trapped. I would like a garden to sit outside in, a vegetable garden I can grow myself, and the peace and silence of not having neighbours literally a wall away. I'm not where I want to be in life and incapable of changing that just yet.
Feeling unlike myself.
A lot of it is hormonal. Or lack thereof.
"But Kaelci," I hear whenever I bring it up. "You are young!"
"I know," I respond. "Did you know that peri-menopausal symptoms can hit you 10 years before menopause, and did you know that my mother entered that particular era when she was 42, and her mother was early also, and I believe HER mother was an early one too."
"You're too young," they continue to scoff, conveniently ignoring the fact that every single symptom listed is what I'm feeling.
Well, not ignoring now. I am being listened to.
I was walking with my son to the shops this morning, and we got attacked by a great dane. Not normally an aggressive breed, but knowing the people it belongs to... not surprised it's a crazed nutbag of a dog. It's usually on a chain in the front yard, foaming at the mouth as it lunges and barks at everyone who passes by, the gate wide open as though they didn't believe or care that the beast could possibly escape and cause chaos.
This time it wasn't chained and acting crazed. It was out in the street, sniffing at someone's parked car, when suddenly, it looked up, saw us, and in the space of a second tried to eat us.
My son got bitten on the arm. Thankfully superficial, no stitches needed, no bones broken. I got bitten on the arse. Thankfully only a minor graze, my fat, tender buttocks protected by denim and a phone in my back pocket.
A lady - who conveniently works for the Council - drove up, beeped her horn, and scared the beast away. A neighbour comes running out, a nice guy in his retirement, we talk to him at least once a week, and he makes sure we're okay. I'm in shock, get the kid into Council Lady's car and we get him to the Emergency Room. She gives me her name. I don't remember it. I couldn't even remember my own phone number to give to her. She leaves us and goes to work.
My son and I are in the ER, waiting. Quick five minute wait. Hooray for regional towns and small, local hospitals. He gets seen to, gets it washed and checked, then bandaged, and we get sent home. Free. Hooray for Australian healthcare/medicare.
He's fine. The rest of the day was a normal day. We haven't unwrapped the bandage to see what it looks like, but seeing as my butt is bright purple and it was a mere graze, I expect his to look worse.
But, "the rest of the day was a normal day."
If not for sitting here, thinking, "Geez, my butt feels tender," it would be like this morning had never happened. I'm disconnected from my day.
Not just because I happened to be shocked and then adrenaline-rushed earlier today.
I'm disconnected from all of my days. Regardless of events or nothing-at-all.
They're just days. And they're going by. And I don't care. I'm apathetic and indifferent. I don't care.
I haven't really been writing. I love my people and I love their story, but I can't feel it at the moment. I haven't been putting any effort into Steem. I love all the people here I've met and am thankful for a lot of them, but I can't bring myself to interact in a meaningful manner at the moment. My apathy and indifference and sudden irate moodswings threatened my relationship. Now I'm waiting for herbal peri-menopause tablets to show up via the wonderful hands of my postman and hope they fix everything.
Failing that, I guess roll my eyes and see a doctor?
Back to my dog story.
After we got home and settled down a bit, I called the council and complained. Emailed them photos from the ER. Will likely email them photos of my son's arm once we dare to unwrap it. The thing is a menace. It's neglected. Probably abused. I hope the RSPCA takes it away. The owners don't deserve pets.
They were home, too. Peering through their curtains. Feeling too guilty to come out and restrain their dog.
My partner went down there to give them a piece of his mind. Naturally, though, he couldn't approach the house because the beast was back where it belonged, but not chained, and tried to lunge through the fence to kill him too. So he went to the aforementioned nice retired neighbour, and THEN found out that the same dog attacked a lady and her dog last week. AND bit one of the kids who live next door to them.
But apparently no-one reports these things.
I bet nothing comes of it. I bet they still have their dog tomorrow, and the next day, and next month too.
And that's my babble for today.
Cheers for stopping by and having a read. :)
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