If the Sky's the Limit...

Reflecting on unrequited dreams

I'm still trying to untangle my symptoms lately, because I seem to keep getting sick. Since the norovirus passed, it looks like I'm just having a rough adjustment to branded Mounjaro from the compounded forms of tirzepatide. I'm used to having some nausea in the mornings if my stomach is too empty before I drive, but on the name brand, that issue has intensified into symptoms I never had to deal with over the past year+.

I'll spare you all the gory details, but suffice it to say, I still don't feel great most days as my body is still acclimating to the change. I've also had a minor cold lately, which normally wouldn't be a big deal… but the drainage has been making my nausea even worse.

Nausea, of course, makes it really difficult to think clearly, drive, write, or read. To try and keep my mind off how bad I've felt these past couple of weeks, I've often turned to playing cartoons on television and beading bracelets when I can't write.

I figure if I can't be as productive as I need to be in my writing in such moments, perhaps I can get something crafty done to sell online before the holidays. One upside of allowing myself those moments is how they help open my mind and keep some creative juices flowing. I might not be able to express myself really well lately when I'm feeling so awful, but at least I can have small moments of internal creativity.

It helps keep my dreams alive. It helps me remember my goals and take a bit of edge off of some depressive episodes, too.

Something I've thought an awful lot about in these moments is how I do have a few things that I wish I could have done differently when I was young. Namely, I wish I hadn't been so fearful of my parents to the point where I didn't pursue my interests in arts and entertainment because I knew they wouldn't approve.

There's a version of me that would have turned out very differently career-wise if I hadn't been so scared of their disapproval. And there's a version of myself that wouldn't have given up on certain artistic talents along the way.

Because I was afraid and made the choices I made, I missed out on pursuing different paths I would have loved. The good part of missing out on those paths, however, is that I got to be Sophie’s mom.