You learn something new

So I've been a volunteer conversation partner for two weeks now. This means the International Student department teams me up with someone who's come to the school to learn English and I answer questions, clarify things and help them with their pronunciation. I am seriously loving it. It's not just making new friends (and one of the students is becoming a bud), it's how fulfilling it is to help someone achieve something. In this case it's better fluency.
People used to tell me "You should be a teacher!" and I scoffed at them. I have a low tolerance for bullshit and am a very impatient person. But this...I don't know, I'm just really, truly enjoying the experience. It makes me understand why people want to become teachers and kind of makes me want to get my TEFL certs. I have a long way to go before I could do that, but it's really appealing right now.
Don't worry, I know that this could merely be enthusiasm clouding my senses. But...the truth is I've always enjoyed helping people with their English (when they ask!) and meeting people from cultural backgrounds different than my own. Funny how those two things often go hand in hand ;).
I was talking to an internet friend about it, which is why I'm blogging about it. It. Teaching. I hate admitting people might be right about me, so I won't. Because I understand that helping peers with their English is a big step away from teaching it. Still, it's a thought.
On another note, is it next summer yet? I want to be in Arizona. NOW. The weather here is going bananas (like it does) and wreaking havoc on my poor benighted body. I haven't gone a day without painkiller in a couple weeks now. Which reminds me (*goes and takes another*). The thing is, sometimes I can sit in one spot and get my pain to a comfortable ache (it's hard to explain unless you've experienced it), but if you forget that your painkiller is going to wear off and then stand up? AGONY. So I have hopefully averted AGONY. I really want to be somewhere with less changeable weather right now. At least school is awesome. Lots of work, and I'm falling behind a bit, but awesome nonetheless.
Fighting!

DeNied!

I'm not surprised that I got another denial letter. I'm kind of torn, but...I don't think I'll continue pursuing disability, partially because they have their heads up their asses so far it's a wonder they see the light of day. I mean...c'mon. The only jobs I'm qualified for involve working with the public and yet SOCIAL PHOBIA could not in any way affect my ability to work? Wow, special. I feel kind of like going to their offices in Olympia and saying to them "Y'all say that I can work and support myself in spite of my laundry list of disorders. That these disorders do not, in fact, affect my ability to perform job functions. I am willing to work. So find me this mythical customer service job where I can do my job without interacting with the public and I will be ALL over that shit."
In other news I've been feeling kind of pissy lately.
In other other news I have no fucking clue how I'm going to come up with the money to buy a car when I can't work. Well, I could work if I had the qualifications for the jobs that don't require working with the public. That would include having a reliably functioning body. Which I don't have. So yaaaay! I'd create a Chip-in thingummy, but that would just be awkward "Hey, I can't work, but the state says I can and I need a car so I can move to a different state where I also won't be able to work! :D "
In yet other news Fighting!

Well...so much for that.

If you're not aware, words can trigger all sorts of thoughts and actions. That's why when someone knows they have friends who've survived abuse, rape, or have a mental illness they'll often put a warning a the beginning of a post that says "Warning: May trigger." This means that words contained therein, or the content itself, may trigger bad memories, flashbacks, anxiety, panic, what have you. Clear? Good
Warning: May trigger.

Oooooo, Spring!

I walked out of the house this morning and could smell spring rain. The climate here may not be kind to my fibro, but the smells, oh! the smells, they make me happy. I love the smell right before and after it rains in the springtime.
Before it rains you can smell it. It's like...it's like smelling the sea without the salt. It's just incredibly fresh and kind of sweet smelling. Some mornings it's better than coffee, because I just take a deeeeeep breath, hold it for a second then let it out. I feel filled up with springtime, like flower with the rain.
The smell after it rains is completely different. It's no longer the potential rain I'm smelling, it's earth, leaves, flowers, trees, growth, just life I guess. Flowers smell different after the rain, the stronger smelling ones don't smell quite as strong but somehow are more potent at the same time. It's like...I don't know, it's kind of like rain brings out the essence of the flower, but it's mixed with the rain so it's...diluted essence?

In defense of Mrs. White Republican

I feel I ought to speak up for my nemesis of the previous post. While I don't know her all that well (she sits in the front row, so...) from what I've observed she seems to be a courteous, well-spoken and pretty nice lady. I don't think she was actively trying to be oppressive or mean. I truly don't. I think she was expressing her opinion and for whatever reason could not bring herself to back down from it. In all honesty I think I'd like her, given the opportunity. And the experience gave me a little insight into my own opinions. I believe that oppression comes predominantly from ignorance rather than malice.

Yeah, I'm a badass

Okay, so the whole thing was not badass on its own, but in context I was completely badass. So at this point I think I've established that my crazy makes class interesting. I have to sit at the back of the room with the wall to my back, because if I have people sitting behind me...yeah, my brain doesn't like that much. In related news, standing in front of the class is a problem too. Speaking up in class I've gotten better about, but actually participating in conversation, debate and general exchange of ideas is a challenge. My intercultural communications class is full up, meaning we have something like...30? I think it's about 30 people, might be 25, suffice to say there is not an empty seat in the room. This is the context.
So let's set the scene. The teacher has been having us put our desk/table/thingummies into a circle at the beginning of each class period. This has proven helpful for me, because we're pretty much all on the same footing so far as my brain is concerned (and I still have my back to the wall so yay). About...oh, halfway through the class she calls for volunteers for a hierarchy exercise. People are representing groups in the political process. So we have the white republican male (or a guy willing to represent such) standing on one table, while the white republican female sits on the other. This gives us a starting point. I, of course, have stuck to my desk cuz hell no.
There's a gentleman in my class who's First Nations and he brought his daughter with him. They were participating (she was such a good sport), but kind of wandering around. The teacher was asking them their place in the political process and having a nice little dialogue when Mrs. White Republican chimes in with a comment to the affect that ALL indians get shitloads of money and benefits. Mr. First Nations (who is a complete gentleman) seems to be gathering his thoughts when she continues with the fact that she knows this because she's married to a man of the Puyallup tribe and has two kids with him and so knows how much money they get. Mr. First Nations and his daughter seem to be gathering their thoughts (and jaws) when I chime in with "You can't generalize like that. Just like anything else there is a hierarchy among the tribes and the Puyallup tribe happens to be THE most prosperous tribe in the area!"
At that point I got some backup from Mr and Miss First Nations who chimed in with agreement and support. Mrs. White Republican wouldn't drop it. It was kind of getting on my last nerve, because here are two people who are actually  *OF* a less prosperous tribe and she wasn't listening to them. I mean, I can honestly understand why she wouldn't listen to me because I am pale as HELL. But to ignore them? I became ireful.
"Have you ever been asked to do a friggin' Rain Dance?" Miss First Nations chimes in with, "Yeah! I have!". Mrs. White Republican doesn't respond so I continue. "Have you ever had someone automatically assume that you're an alcoholic because they find out you've got Native American blood?" Miss First Nations chimes in with "They ask me if I do crack." (different generations I suppose) I was full of piss and vinegar at this point, which is why my badassery happened.
I was so frustrated at this point that I slid out from behind my desk, walked into the middle of the "hierarchy" and crawled under Mrs. White Republican's table. The teacher was sitting next to it and leaned forward, "Are you being an oppressed minority?" "Well," says I, "I'm not-white, not-straight and a whole lot of other 'nots' so yeah." At which point she announced to the class that we now had an oppressed minority.
It may not seem like much to you, oh mysterious internet, but to me it was a big deal. I put myself out there, voiced my opinion, kept the profanity to a minimum and participated in a group activity in front of the class. This is badass for someone with social phobia, anxiety and panic disorder...
Okay, I'll admit it, I had to stay under that desk for a bit because my heart was racing and I couldn't believe I'd actually done it, but luckily I got myself together before the end of the exercise so nobody noticed (I think). This does not, however, negate my badassery in my own mind.
Fighting!!!!

Misc. Craziness

I brought up the subject of people saying "I couldn't tell! You don't look like you have a mental illness" and how it brings to mind the question "Well, what exactly am I supposed to look like then?". My teacher said "Crazy eyes." Which brought me to this brilliant idea. Spirals. On the eyelids. Because when cartoon characters go crazy they have spiraley eyes. My thought was sharpie, but bfam very sensibly pointed out that eyeliner might be a better idea.
Next topic: Lost time.
First of all, I'm sure there's some technical term for it that I don't know. Lost time is exactly what it sounds like, blink, time gone with no recollection of actually experiencing it. It's not really that big of a deal, or so I thought until I casually mentioned it to my mother and her eyes got real big and she said "That doesn't sound good!" To me it's never seemed like that big of a deal, because it's only happened when I'm doing something that I can do on autopilot (sorting, data entry, driving a regular commute), I've never had anything bad happen and have no reason to believe I've done anything other than complete an action on autopilot. I actually always thought it was a common autopilot thing, but maybe I'm wrong.