Friday, Jan. 25, 2013 11:07 p.m.

I'm not compaining, really.

It's amazing how much you realize you took for granted when you no longer have it.

I'm not complaining though. I'm really not. It's more that I'm RECOGNIZING the changes. It's the little things, and how they affect you - it's the things you previously didn't really know life without.

But again, I'm not complaining. Things are just different now. And it's interesting.

I've been working from home for the past 4 years, so I'm used to being alone. That part doesn't bother me; I like the laziness of being at home all day, every day. But I've also before been able to balance the loneliness of home with the independence of having the days to myself and my own schedule. I could go places in the middle of the day; I could still do things. Even after C was born - we could go on outings; I could run errands; we could get out of the house together.

The day after this past Thanksgiving, we traded in both of our cars for one car. I really like our new car. But we now only have one car. It was a needed decision due to our present financial circumstances and since I work from home but one day a week and K also is at home except for the occasional meeting here or there, we have managed to make the transition from a two-car to one-car household fairly smoothly.

But it is different still. Alone time out of the house, or even "alone" time with C out of the house is very rare. I drove to the grocery store this afternoon to pick up two items - the grocery store is less than half a mile away - and those few moments in the car vividly stood out to me. Freedom. I could listen to the song on the radio and actually feel it. Like I did when I was "young". I don't know what the dividing line between "young" and "old" was; I'm not even sure I'm not still young; I just haven't [i]felt[/i] young in a really long time.

There was a moment on our road trip home for Christmas though. We had stopped in Tombstone, AZ for a couple hours to look around. There was an old saloon with self-guided tours for $10/person. I was enchanted by the place. I love history, especially the mid-to-late nineteenth century, and there was something out that place that just felt alive with history. $10 seemed like a lot to spend and I almost passed it up, but K said he'd take C to do some shopping and that I could go and tour the museum for 20-30 min. or so.

For some reason, I was slightly enthralled with the place. The entire building was largely untouched and unrenovated. It looked and felt the same as it had in the 1880s. While a few of the more delicate display items were behind glass, much was out in the open with just a description and sign not to touch. There were bullet holes in the stage that I could go right up to and stick my finger in. It was low lit and there was hardly anyone other than myself there and it was just awesome. The aspiring history nerd in me was salivating. I had so little time in there and tried to snap as many pictures as I could to remember. That building is apparently haunted, and I've never really thought this before about a place, but it probably was. And I didn't care. The past felt alive to me there - and it made me feel alive in the present. And it made me happy.

It's amazing how just a few minutes of experiencing an individual passion can shake you back into your own awareness.

We haven't been able to go out on a date in a really long time. In Texas over Christmas, we went and had dinner twice while a family member watched C. The first night, we fought half the dinner, so it wasn't really the refreshing time alone that it could've been. The second time we had fought earlier in the day about going out as I had wanted to stay overnight somewhere and K didn't and I was hurt. We patched things up enough so that the second dinner was better than the first, but still neither "date" felt like a "date" really.

It's hard not having any family, or even close friends nearby. Babysitters are very expensive, and we can't afford one. We can't really even afford to spend money on a nice evening either actually, so definitely no babysitter.

Have I mentioned how interesting it is not have my own car? Adult Americans are so accustomed to having their own cars. I don't know anyone who doesn't have their own car. Even all the couples I know - everyone has their own car. It's just the way things are. A car is our means of freedom. It's our ability to leave, to go, to escape, whenever we want to. To each individually have that freedom is something most people take for granted.

It's different having only one car now. We have to talk about any plans we want to have, we essentially have to 'ask permission' from each other to do anything. If K is gone on a meeting and has the car, I don't go anywhere. I can't go anywhere. Not that I ever go anywhere anyway, but my ability to go, if I wanted to, is limited to where my feet can take me. Luckily I live in the city and there's quite a bit within a mile or so if I needed to walk, but it's strange just knowing the fact that I am in fact limited to where my feet (and C's stroller) can take us.

Another thing people take for granted? Clear skin.

Sigh.

I have had acne for oh, 15-16 years now? It's gotten so much worse over the past two years though. I was on some antibiotics the past month and my face cleared up some, but now I'm off them and my awful skin is back.

I'm always, always, always reading things on line and trying to find my "miracle cure". I still deep down feel (hope) that I'll find it some day. I read all these "natural" solutions to acne and read all these personal stories of how such-and-such helped someone. And it sucks because I know that that person likely did not have serious acne at all and maybe just a zit or two at a time. Things that work for others don't work for me. And no one has answers as to what's wrong with my skin. I've tried so many things and some things work for awhile, but nothing treats the underlying cause of my acne (because actually ever tried to find out what's causing it; it's so much easier to just throw medication at the symptoms), so I just continue to have acne. And I think my skin has built up a resistance over the years to everything that's already been throw at it, so throwing more at it won't help.

I was at a recent eye appointment and for some reason it came up and the EYE doctor started talking to me about my acne and what things I've tried and recommended a dermatologist to me. I know the doctor was just being nice and trying to help me (and they whole reason I was at the eye doctor is because I had a small bump on my eyelid that the doctor said was probably basically an inflamed underlid pimple. Great. But it's what got us on the subject in the first place), but it sucks always being reminded of how awful my skin is.

Oh, and I changed my insurance starting in 2013 to a high-deductible plan because the premiums were way more affordable (we are on a limited income at the moment after all and some things have to go), so I can't be seeing the recommended dermatologist anyway because I can't afford to pay our of pocket...so back to the search for natural cure once again...

I don't even remember the last time I felt pretty. Actually attractive. I know K tells me I'm pretty, but I feel like he's hardwired to think so because he knows me and loves me. I don't remember that last time I felt pretty or attractive to anyone else. Here I am, in my early 30s and at the very tail end of my "youth" and ability to be attractive. And I feel like I've lost out on this last chance to really feel beautiful because of my skin. I feel like I've been robbed. Who would I have been had I had good skin? I would've had far more confidence in myself, that's for sure.

I really have to try hard to be confident in public sometimes. I fell like my skin is already gone, why not let the rest of myself go as well? I feel like I'm always going out into the world with a paper bag covering my face. People don't comment because they're polite, but I know I look weird and we all just ignore it. I ignore how ugly I feel and they ignore how weird I look. And we continue on.

But I just feel like what people see is not who I am. I feel like I should look different than I do. I feel like I should look like me, but to others, I know I instead just look like a red, blotchy, bumpy, flaky, makeup caking, sometimes slightly oozing, gross, face. I feel like I could be so much more if it weren't for the way I look.

Oh well. At least it keeps me humble, right?

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I'm still optimistic that someday this will all be over. But in the meantime, might as well capture what it's like so that I can later look back, right?

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