And so far so good. My pain levels are down, but still there. What was "HOLY SHIT AMAZING" was me NOT being crippled for days after tromping up and down the hills of Bisbee during Pride weekend. So I think that definitely says AZ is good for me.
I'm still finding my footing here in other respects. I am staying with friends who are awesome and both understand and respect my issues and decisions.
There were a lot of "and"s in that sentence.
I'm feeling a bit awkward though, because they're being really generous with their space and food and stuff and I...feel uncomfortable that I don't have a job to contribute. Which is why, broke as I am, I am paying for pizza for me and Tom tonight. Even though pizza inevitably disagrees with me. I feel uncomfortable with letting go of cash for a frivolous reason, but I feel more uncomfortable with being a leech, and...*flails* Overall, the situation right now is REALLY good for me, but I can't help the crazysauce in my head whispering doubts, uncertainties, possible future disasters, and insecurities. I also can't help the extreme anxiety over money. I've gotten to the point where I have a smidge over half of the financial aid I need for university. I have very little wiggle room when it comes to money. Like... VERY little. There's shit all I can do about any of that, so I feel adrift at the same time that I feel I have made serious positive changes in my life.
So, basically, I am in a really really good place right now, but my CRAZY thinks everything is a disaster waiting to explode. Which is frustrating as fuck. What's also frustrating is the fact that my crazy is coming up with somewhat plausible scenarios for disaster. It's like...it's like, when it's teh zombie shit my brain is hitting me with, it can be crippling but overall it's so over the top and ridiculous that it's easier to deal with. Whereas anything "real world"ish my brain comes up with...my crazy just latches onto to it and it's incredibly hard to get it to let go.
Not to say I'm not "aja!aja! fighting!" for all I'm worth, it's just...a pain in the ass.
Showing posts with label fibromyalgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fibromyalgia. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Sunday, April 7, 2013
What it means to be friends
Last night I talked another friend off the ledge. I don't know what's in the atmosphere lately, but a lot of people are going through slumps at the same time. At least that's what it seems like. It's kind of weird for me, because I'm feeling better than I have...EVER. Not to say my mental state is perfect, but...yeah.
I was struck by a few things during, and because of, that conversation. The least consequential is that I didn't realize how much of a fibro fog I've been in lately. I was talking to my friend when I jolted and realized I had no idea what I'd just been saying or what the purpose was. Fortunately my friend is used to deciphering my "unique" conversational style, so nothing bad happened. But it made me realize that maybe I'm not doing as well physically as I thought. Which is a minor minor thing, but still a realisation.
The other was that I'm really really really the wrong person to talk to if you want someone to convince you NOT to hurt yourself. Because (and I know how fucked up this is) I truly believe self-injury is a completely acceptable coping mechanism. As long as you know how to patch yourself up...All I care about is if you feel better. If it doesn't make you feel better, don't do it. This extends to all forms of self-medication really. As long as you're not hurting anyone else and it makes you feel better, then I'm not going to pressure you to change. I call full halt when it hurts someone else, and if it starts to hurt you then we're going to start having conversations about it.
But the things is...who the fuck am I to judge? I've self-medicated in different ways. I go through periods where I hurt myself. I don't cut, but that's only because I have a problem with the sight of my own blood (well, not completely, but I'm not into extensive explanation right now). I probably will hurt myself periodically for the rest of my life. Because, guess what? It makes me feel better and does no lasting damage. Which will frustrate every mental health practitioner I ever meet probably.
Anyways, after I got off the phone with my friend sitting back from the ledge, I started messaging another friend on Facebook. He's my BFAM and he helps me put things into perspective by his very existence. Like....I can talk to him about anything, but I don't have to. I can just message him and knowing he's there if I need him makes things better. It's the willingness to listen that helps.
I'm getting off-track from what I wanted to talk about. Again. As always.
I have two viewpoints on friendship that work well for me. One I learned from a dear friend who said that friends are like investments, dump the ones who don't give good returns. It took me a long time to figure out how to utilise that advice in a way that worked for me. In my case it rarely means I just drop the person, ne'er to be seen again. I usually stop making an effort or including them in my life. The other viewpoint I couldn't really put into words, until last night. Talking to my bfam clarified it for me. I'm going to copy and paste what I wrote because I want to hang on to it.
"The one thing I always needed was to be accepted for who I am, broken bits and all, so it would be hypocritical of me not to accept others, y'know?
I admit, sometimes I end up with some dead weight because of this philosophy. But y'know...the dead weight costs me very little time, and maintaining this attitude and philosophy does a lot of things for me. It makes me the friend, no, PERSON, I desire to be. It means I know how to deal with emotions, my own or others. It means that I've found people who I can call on if I need perspective, someone to listen, or just company. It means that I can be happy with the way I live my life. It means that I can see both the best and worst in people, and still like the human race in general.
I'll never be done growing, because that is a silly way to live. But I feel like...I don't know...like my roots are firmly planted in the soil I want, that I can grow in the direction I want, and I have room enough to spread out to soak up the proverbial sun and rain.
I was struck by a few things during, and because of, that conversation. The least consequential is that I didn't realize how much of a fibro fog I've been in lately. I was talking to my friend when I jolted and realized I had no idea what I'd just been saying or what the purpose was. Fortunately my friend is used to deciphering my "unique" conversational style, so nothing bad happened. But it made me realize that maybe I'm not doing as well physically as I thought. Which is a minor minor thing, but still a realisation.
The other was that I'm really really really the wrong person to talk to if you want someone to convince you NOT to hurt yourself. Because (and I know how fucked up this is) I truly believe self-injury is a completely acceptable coping mechanism. As long as you know how to patch yourself up...All I care about is if you feel better. If it doesn't make you feel better, don't do it. This extends to all forms of self-medication really. As long as you're not hurting anyone else and it makes you feel better, then I'm not going to pressure you to change. I call full halt when it hurts someone else, and if it starts to hurt you then we're going to start having conversations about it.
But the things is...who the fuck am I to judge? I've self-medicated in different ways. I go through periods where I hurt myself. I don't cut, but that's only because I have a problem with the sight of my own blood (well, not completely, but I'm not into extensive explanation right now). I probably will hurt myself periodically for the rest of my life. Because, guess what? It makes me feel better and does no lasting damage. Which will frustrate every mental health practitioner I ever meet probably.
Anyways, after I got off the phone with my friend sitting back from the ledge, I started messaging another friend on Facebook. He's my BFAM and he helps me put things into perspective by his very existence. Like....I can talk to him about anything, but I don't have to. I can just message him and knowing he's there if I need him makes things better. It's the willingness to listen that helps.
I'm getting off-track from what I wanted to talk about. Again. As always.
I have two viewpoints on friendship that work well for me. One I learned from a dear friend who said that friends are like investments, dump the ones who don't give good returns. It took me a long time to figure out how to utilise that advice in a way that worked for me. In my case it rarely means I just drop the person, ne'er to be seen again. I usually stop making an effort or including them in my life. The other viewpoint I couldn't really put into words, until last night. Talking to my bfam clarified it for me. I'm going to copy and paste what I wrote because I want to hang on to it.
"The one thing I always needed was to be accepted for who I am, broken bits and all, so it would be hypocritical of me not to accept others, y'know?
I admit, sometimes I end up with some dead weight because of this philosophy. But y'know...the dead weight costs me very little time, and maintaining this attitude and philosophy does a lot of things for me. It makes me the friend, no, PERSON, I desire to be. It means I know how to deal with emotions, my own or others. It means that I've found people who I can call on if I need perspective, someone to listen, or just company. It means that I can be happy with the way I live my life. It means that I can see both the best and worst in people, and still like the human race in general.
I'll never be done growing, because that is a silly way to live. But I feel like...I don't know...like my roots are firmly planted in the soil I want, that I can grow in the direction I want, and I have room enough to spread out to soak up the proverbial sun and rain.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Singing again
I'm singing again. I don't mean that I ever completely stopped singing, but..There's a difference between singing along to the radio and just singing because it feels good. Because you feel good. Because sometimes there aren't words to express how right with the world, how accepted, how content, you feel. So you sing. You don't necessarily sing applicable songs, you just sing songs that feel good to sing. Because you can. Because you must. Because it feels good and you feel good..
I've still got all my normal problems, I just... I am in a better place mentally and emotionally than I can ever remember being before in my life. It's not that my anxiety (& co.) have disappeared, it's all still very much present. It's... I don't know how to explain precisely. I've never completely lost hope, not that I can think of. So it's not that I've rediscovered hope. I just... I feel so much more ABLE than I ever have before. Able to succeed, able to thrive, able to dream, able to seek out what I want in life and grab on with both hands.
And I'm happy right now. I'm going through a nerve-wracking waiting game to hear back from the University of Arizona, but... Even there I'm feeling ABLE. If I don't get in I'll try New Mexico or Nevada or other universities in Arizona or (if I must) Southern California. I will find somewhere in the southwest, I will find respite from my pain, and I will get my education. It's not "I should", "I'll try", "Maybe I...", no. I WILL.
I've still got all my normal problems, I just... I am in a better place mentally and emotionally than I can ever remember being before in my life. It's not that my anxiety (& co.) have disappeared, it's all still very much present. It's... I don't know how to explain precisely. I've never completely lost hope, not that I can think of. So it's not that I've rediscovered hope. I just... I feel so much more ABLE than I ever have before. Able to succeed, able to thrive, able to dream, able to seek out what I want in life and grab on with both hands.
And I'm happy right now. I'm going through a nerve-wracking waiting game to hear back from the University of Arizona, but... Even there I'm feeling ABLE. If I don't get in I'll try New Mexico or Nevada or other universities in Arizona or (if I must) Southern California. I will find somewhere in the southwest, I will find respite from my pain, and I will get my education. It's not "I should", "I'll try", "Maybe I...", no. I WILL.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Engaging in Escapism
Oh Lordy, am I ever! It's a little weird for me tho. This level of escapism (as in, resembling addiction and negatively impacting some very important life stuff) is a lot more typical of crazysauce than fibro. My crazysauce is currently in a really good place, so feeling this disconnect and the escape compulsion is...different.
My fibro is flaring. Like...ALL the time. It's the hazard of living where I am. I am on the edge of exhaustion constantly. I have to be careful driving home, because I'm half-afraid I'll fall asleep at the wheel. And I'm taking a foreign language class. Online. This is the class that is suffering the most from my current state, the others require less of me or something IDK. But Korean? GOOD GOD it is suffering. My teacher is extremely nice, but being nice can't help me in forcing my brain to kick into gear. I just stare at my homework and go duuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. I took this class because I really WANTED to (and I wanted to before I started getting back into kdramas and such), so the fact that I currently feel so apathetic about it is frustrating.
But I was talking about escapism. Which is related.
So this year I took up the Goodreads reading challenge. I said I'd read 500 books, which is TOTALLY doable with the way I read. I figured I'd fall behind during the quarter and catch up on break. That's not what happened. It's during the quarter and I'm six books ahead on my reading goal. Because all my brain (and body) wants to do is curl up in bed and read, only shifting for the pain. So I'm catching all my math up at the last minute, BSing my way through a 200 level communications class, and totally fucking up my Korean class.
Considering I'm trying to get into a decent university and one of the majors I'm going for is Linguistics...This is discouraging. I know it's not that I'm not interested in the language, I still like it. I know it's not because I'm lazy because I'm working my ass off. I'm doing classes and conversation again, only now conversation includes four partners (one is more theoretical, but that's a whole 'nother rant) and two conversation groups. A week. I'm maintaining okay, but I'm fast getting to the point where I can't pretend anymore in Korean. I just can't think.
And right now? I hurt. I hurt and I want to crawl into bed and into a brain candy book that will give my brain cavities. I have to memorize two dialogues and learn all the Sino-Korean numbers, something I couldn't manage last quarter at all. I have to do this by Tuesday. *opens romance novel*
My fibro is flaring. Like...ALL the time. It's the hazard of living where I am. I am on the edge of exhaustion constantly. I have to be careful driving home, because I'm half-afraid I'll fall asleep at the wheel. And I'm taking a foreign language class. Online. This is the class that is suffering the most from my current state, the others require less of me or something IDK. But Korean? GOOD GOD it is suffering. My teacher is extremely nice, but being nice can't help me in forcing my brain to kick into gear. I just stare at my homework and go duuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. I took this class because I really WANTED to (and I wanted to before I started getting back into kdramas and such), so the fact that I currently feel so apathetic about it is frustrating.
But I was talking about escapism. Which is related.
So this year I took up the Goodreads reading challenge. I said I'd read 500 books, which is TOTALLY doable with the way I read. I figured I'd fall behind during the quarter and catch up on break. That's not what happened. It's during the quarter and I'm six books ahead on my reading goal. Because all my brain (and body) wants to do is curl up in bed and read, only shifting for the pain. So I'm catching all my math up at the last minute, BSing my way through a 200 level communications class, and totally fucking up my Korean class.
Considering I'm trying to get into a decent university and one of the majors I'm going for is Linguistics...This is discouraging. I know it's not that I'm not interested in the language, I still like it. I know it's not because I'm lazy because I'm working my ass off. I'm doing classes and conversation again, only now conversation includes four partners (one is more theoretical, but that's a whole 'nother rant) and two conversation groups. A week. I'm maintaining okay, but I'm fast getting to the point where I can't pretend anymore in Korean. I just can't think.
And right now? I hurt. I hurt and I want to crawl into bed and into a brain candy book that will give my brain cavities. I have to memorize two dialogues and learn all the Sino-Korean numbers, something I couldn't manage last quarter at all. I have to do this by Tuesday. *opens romance novel*
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Oh winter
I have to wake up early to turn on the hot water heater. i'm up by five every morning. It's 10. 30 and I'm not really any place NEAR sleepy. I'm lying in bed propped up by pillows as my back says "throb throb throb". It subsides just long enough for me to think, hey, that's not so...oh, wait there it goes again.
This quarter is better, because, even though I'm still having mopey days, I pretty much only have to deal with the fibro. I'm not up and rabidly cheerful, but I'm far from depressed. I'm able to go out the door with waaaay less fear than last quarter. I'm really tired tho, because the fibro is not subsiding. And my mouth hurts because of the dental surgery I need and can't afford. And my lower body hurts because I have to keep walking on it even tho it hurts. And my back hurts because it's an asshole.
I started to vlog about the fibro stuff, but it was just too goddamn depressing. Who wants to get online just to say "Guess what? Life still sucks!"
Well, it doesn't suck that bad. Could be a lot worse. There's a lot going right. But my physical well-being is not one of the things going right. It's one of the things going crap.
I think I can still keep my grades up. I just need to make sure I don't over extend myself.
Oh.
Almost forgot.
Since my mental state is better I'm trying to cut out (or at least down on) the energy drinks. If I'm going to save up to go to Arizona I need to shave off extra expenditure wherever I can. And since it's looking like I won't need to self-medicate with excessive amounts of caffeine... Looks like it's me and oolong to get me through the day. *sigh* I really wish coffee didn't bother my digestive tract the way it does.
Trying to be better about taking food with me. As in better food. That might actually have some nutritional value. I'm trying to keep small servings that fit into my bag easily, because this quarter going to my car between classes just is not that easy. Maybe I'll learn to make bento boxes.
Vaguely worried about wearing out my welcome with friends, but I think that's more that I'm just uncomfortable in general about asking people for help. Hopefully this doesn't back fire.
I'm going to try and get to sleep now. My anxiety and depression is a lot better, but getting the crap out of my brain and onto digital paper always does me a world of good. Crossing my fingers for sweet, restful dreams.
This quarter is better, because, even though I'm still having mopey days, I pretty much only have to deal with the fibro. I'm not up and rabidly cheerful, but I'm far from depressed. I'm able to go out the door with waaaay less fear than last quarter. I'm really tired tho, because the fibro is not subsiding. And my mouth hurts because of the dental surgery I need and can't afford. And my lower body hurts because I have to keep walking on it even tho it hurts. And my back hurts because it's an asshole.
I started to vlog about the fibro stuff, but it was just too goddamn depressing. Who wants to get online just to say "Guess what? Life still sucks!"
Well, it doesn't suck that bad. Could be a lot worse. There's a lot going right. But my physical well-being is not one of the things going right. It's one of the things going crap.
I think I can still keep my grades up. I just need to make sure I don't over extend myself.
Oh.
Almost forgot.
Since my mental state is better I'm trying to cut out (or at least down on) the energy drinks. If I'm going to save up to go to Arizona I need to shave off extra expenditure wherever I can. And since it's looking like I won't need to self-medicate with excessive amounts of caffeine... Looks like it's me and oolong to get me through the day. *sigh* I really wish coffee didn't bother my digestive tract the way it does.
Trying to be better about taking food with me. As in better food. That might actually have some nutritional value. I'm trying to keep small servings that fit into my bag easily, because this quarter going to my car between classes just is not that easy. Maybe I'll learn to make bento boxes.
Vaguely worried about wearing out my welcome with friends, but I think that's more that I'm just uncomfortable in general about asking people for help. Hopefully this doesn't back fire.
I'm going to try and get to sleep now. My anxiety and depression is a lot better, but getting the crap out of my brain and onto digital paper always does me a world of good. Crossing my fingers for sweet, restful dreams.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Escapism
In some ways I'm doing okay. I'm not in the MAJOR slump I was in, and I'm feeling a little more...self-aware? I don't know the right word. At this point in my life I'm pretty aware of the way my mind works and so on, but I get caught up in it sometimes. And I'm not right now. Caught up in it I mean.
ANYWAYS.
Life is less than ideal right now. Everybody at home is cranky and unconsciously encouraging me to look forward to missing them. Hardcore. I'm entirely worn out. My body is saying "fuck you" and fucking with me. I'm bummed out because I can't do the waaay early uni application I was planning on. I'm bummed out because I don't have money (okay, that's pretty consistent, but the after Christmas sales are bumming me out even more. I mean, the complete BBC (70s and 80s) Jane Austen 63% off and the Firth mini-series for 8 dollars? *sob*). I'm exhausted. My brain is digging in its heels and doesn't want me preparing for next quarter. I don't feel ready for next quarter at all. I just want to curl up in a ball and escape.
I'm reading a SHIT ton of romance right now. Well, really, I'm just reading a shit ton. More than usual (a lot of people might be surprised to learn I can read MORE than usual). I'm just...
I can remember when I was younger and indulging in my favourite addiction (BOOKS in case it isn't clear) and someone (I can't remember who) got all huffy with me. "You're only reading to escape from reality!" I looked at them like they were stupid and said "Well, YEAH." The only reason I can function in this world is because I can block it out and escape to another. The real world is fucking HARD. It hurts you, abuses you, and spits you out. Then you're supposed to be hunky dory and able to do everything you could before it fucked with you.
That's not the way it works.
People need recovery time, and I can't comprehend why that's so hard to understand. If you break a leg, you need time to recover and let it heal (contrary to what my ex seemed to think, but that's a whole 'nother story). Life breaks us all the time. And we need time to heal from that. And sometimes we can't and we have to learn to function without a figurative limb. Or sometimes we can heal, but we're always a little stiff. Sometimes arthritis sets in. This analogy is getting away from me.
I don't even know what I'm rambling about at this point. I want to connect with people and I want to be left alone. I want to learn so MANY things, and I just want to curl up in my bed and read brain candy. I'm dreaming and working towards a goal I don't truly believe is achievable.
Rarely do I wish to be normal (so boring), but at times like these normal seems SO much easier.
ANYWAYS.
Life is less than ideal right now. Everybody at home is cranky and unconsciously encouraging me to look forward to missing them. Hardcore. I'm entirely worn out. My body is saying "fuck you" and fucking with me. I'm bummed out because I can't do the waaay early uni application I was planning on. I'm bummed out because I don't have money (okay, that's pretty consistent, but the after Christmas sales are bumming me out even more. I mean, the complete BBC (70s and 80s) Jane Austen 63% off and the Firth mini-series for 8 dollars? *sob*). I'm exhausted. My brain is digging in its heels and doesn't want me preparing for next quarter. I don't feel ready for next quarter at all. I just want to curl up in a ball and escape.
I'm reading a SHIT ton of romance right now. Well, really, I'm just reading a shit ton. More than usual (a lot of people might be surprised to learn I can read MORE than usual). I'm just...
I can remember when I was younger and indulging in my favourite addiction (BOOKS in case it isn't clear) and someone (I can't remember who) got all huffy with me. "You're only reading to escape from reality!" I looked at them like they were stupid and said "Well, YEAH." The only reason I can function in this world is because I can block it out and escape to another. The real world is fucking HARD. It hurts you, abuses you, and spits you out. Then you're supposed to be hunky dory and able to do everything you could before it fucked with you.
That's not the way it works.
People need recovery time, and I can't comprehend why that's so hard to understand. If you break a leg, you need time to recover and let it heal (contrary to what my ex seemed to think, but that's a whole 'nother story). Life breaks us all the time. And we need time to heal from that. And sometimes we can't and we have to learn to function without a figurative limb. Or sometimes we can heal, but we're always a little stiff. Sometimes arthritis sets in. This analogy is getting away from me.
I don't even know what I'm rambling about at this point. I want to connect with people and I want to be left alone. I want to learn so MANY things, and I just want to curl up in my bed and read brain candy. I'm dreaming and working towards a goal I don't truly believe is achievable.
Rarely do I wish to be normal (so boring), but at times like these normal seems SO much easier.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
sucktastic yo
Went dancing with my friends today (including a couple new ones). And by that I mean I went with my friends and did shit until my body crapped out less than 10 minutes in. At which point I tried doing stationary bike for a bit while they danced. That lasted maybe 5 minutes. I almost cried while I was watching them learn a new dance.
It's so frustrating to want to do things and not be able to. I'm hanging onto the idea of Arizona like a lifeline, but I know it's not a magic wand. I'm not going to move to Arizona and suddenly be able to do things. I'm going to move to Arizona and have to work REALLY HARD to get myself healthy again. I'm going to have to work out and gradually build myself back up to the strength I used to have (Oh so long ago!). And it's not a guarantee. I could move there and have little to no improvement. I'm still going to have my dental issues because I can't afford the surgery required (yay wisdom teeth rotting in my mouth! :D /sarcasm). I'm still going to be horribly knock-kneed. I'm still going to be massively obese. I'm still going to be crazy. I'm still...
When I think of all the things that I'm "still" gonna be it's downright frustrating. I'm moving there to have a CHANCE, but sometimes it feels like a vain hope. It's like, I can't help thinking in the back of my head "this is going to fall through, you're not going to make it there." or "you're going to get there and it won't help your health AT ALL." or worse of all "You're just a lazy fucking bitch, all this shit is in your head because you don't want to do the WORK required to be skinny and you're still going to be lazy when you move there."
The biggest fight for respect I have is with myself. Nobody thinks littler of me than I do. It's always this nagging voice in the back of my head. "You're unattractive, lazy, stupid, fat, and just plain WRONG." "You're not really poly, you just can't function in a normal, healthy relationship." "You're deluding yourself, you're not queer." Crazy shit. Shit that doesn't make sense. I know it's crazytown because there's no way in HELL I would have CHOSEN to be not-straight with my family. Seriously. I'd rather be straight-up asexual, in all honesty. If I had a CHOICE.
I just don't know what to do when i'm being hammered by crazytown AND fibro. I have heard nothing from SS. I think I missed the deadline for the stupid-ass statement they wanted me to make. How's this for a statement? "I can't do all this shit you're asking me because I'm batshit crazy and have fibro and miss your deadlines because I'm doing this BY MYSELF. Because I don't have the money for a lawyer and my family sure as hell won't help me, because they're half-convinced I'm overreacting. Or lazy. So will you just cut me some fucking slack and HELP ME?!!?"
I have to say "Fighting!" I have to believe in myself. But it's so fucking hard.
It's so frustrating to want to do things and not be able to. I'm hanging onto the idea of Arizona like a lifeline, but I know it's not a magic wand. I'm not going to move to Arizona and suddenly be able to do things. I'm going to move to Arizona and have to work REALLY HARD to get myself healthy again. I'm going to have to work out and gradually build myself back up to the strength I used to have (Oh so long ago!). And it's not a guarantee. I could move there and have little to no improvement. I'm still going to have my dental issues because I can't afford the surgery required (yay wisdom teeth rotting in my mouth! :D /sarcasm). I'm still going to be horribly knock-kneed. I'm still going to be massively obese. I'm still going to be crazy. I'm still...
When I think of all the things that I'm "still" gonna be it's downright frustrating. I'm moving there to have a CHANCE, but sometimes it feels like a vain hope. It's like, I can't help thinking in the back of my head "this is going to fall through, you're not going to make it there." or "you're going to get there and it won't help your health AT ALL." or worse of all "You're just a lazy fucking bitch, all this shit is in your head because you don't want to do the WORK required to be skinny and you're still going to be lazy when you move there."
The biggest fight for respect I have is with myself. Nobody thinks littler of me than I do. It's always this nagging voice in the back of my head. "You're unattractive, lazy, stupid, fat, and just plain WRONG." "You're not really poly, you just can't function in a normal, healthy relationship." "You're deluding yourself, you're not queer." Crazy shit. Shit that doesn't make sense. I know it's crazytown because there's no way in HELL I would have CHOSEN to be not-straight with my family. Seriously. I'd rather be straight-up asexual, in all honesty. If I had a CHOICE.
I just don't know what to do when i'm being hammered by crazytown AND fibro. I have heard nothing from SS. I think I missed the deadline for the stupid-ass statement they wanted me to make. How's this for a statement? "I can't do all this shit you're asking me because I'm batshit crazy and have fibro and miss your deadlines because I'm doing this BY MYSELF. Because I don't have the money for a lawyer and my family sure as hell won't help me, because they're half-convinced I'm overreacting. Or lazy. So will you just cut me some fucking slack and HELP ME?!!?"
I have to say "Fighting!" I have to believe in myself. But it's so fucking hard.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Oh Fibro
I've actually been vlogging elsewhere about my fibro, but honestly, I'm too tired right now to sit down and do a video. I will at some point in the next week, but right now...not so much. :/ My fibro is flaring. I've been in a lot of physical pain, I'm constantly exhausted, and I'm moving through a fog. My brain needs a new starter, it's just clickclickclickclick with no ignition. I've fallen behind in my schoolwork a bit. It's not an insurmountable bit, but it's still a bit. I stay at school late because I can keep myself awake there. The minute I get home my body is just like "Okay, bedtime!" with no respect for what I need to get done. Sometimes my body has been sending me to bed without dinner. No matter how much or little sleep I get this week, I'm always tired. I'm draggin' draggin' draggin'. I think longingly of the potential of Arizona. I know I'll still have problems, my health is in the pits and it's going to take time to improve it, but... I just anticipate not having to kill my liver with anti-inflammatories on a daily basis.
I'm going dancing with my friends at the Y. The aerobics room is free in the morning, so we can dance in front of a huge mirror as we make fools of ourselves trying to learn dance steps. I may only last ten minutes, but that time with friends is invaluable. I may last only 5 minutes, but I don't care, I'm still going.
I have a birthday party to go to tonight, and I'm probably going to have to caffeinate just to get there. I don't know if caffeine helps my pain levels (I mean, it usually seems to, but that could be my mood it's affecting, you know?), but I've never really known it to hurt (unless I have a headache, sometimes it can then).
I'm just trying to chant "Aja! Aja! Fighting!" and "You can do eet!" to get through this flare. I mean, when the flare is done I'll still be in pain, but it will be MANAGEABLE pain. Pain I'm used to, pain i can cope with. My brain is so muzzy right now that while it was shouting at me/itself "Something's following you and is going to KILL YOU!!", my (and my brain's) response was "Really? That's nice."
I'm going dancing with my friends at the Y. The aerobics room is free in the morning, so we can dance in front of a huge mirror as we make fools of ourselves trying to learn dance steps. I may only last ten minutes, but that time with friends is invaluable. I may last only 5 minutes, but I don't care, I'm still going.
I have a birthday party to go to tonight, and I'm probably going to have to caffeinate just to get there. I don't know if caffeine helps my pain levels (I mean, it usually seems to, but that could be my mood it's affecting, you know?), but I've never really known it to hurt (unless I have a headache, sometimes it can then).
I'm just trying to chant "Aja! Aja! Fighting!" and "You can do eet!" to get through this flare. I mean, when the flare is done I'll still be in pain, but it will be MANAGEABLE pain. Pain I'm used to, pain i can cope with. My brain is so muzzy right now that while it was shouting at me/itself "Something's following you and is going to KILL YOU!!", my (and my brain's) response was "Really? That's nice."
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Good Exhausted
There's good exhausted and bad exhausted. Bad exhausted makes me sick and keeps me from doing what I want or NEED to do. Good exhausted is when I can't do much more, but I've been able to accomplish what I wanted. This is a week of good exhaustion.
I'm doing the school thing without meds. No antidepressants. No antianxiety meds. I can't afford the doctor's visit and he can't renew my prescription until I go. He's actually been really understanding. It's been almost a year since my last visit and I'm supposed to have a medication management appointment every six. But...I can't afford the visit. So I go without.
So far the major difference seems to be in my degree of exhaustion. I'm always tired, but never quite this much. I'm also a lot sweatier, which...yeah, anxiety. I'm not too stinky, thankfully! That is a big "thankfully" as I'm currently unable to use any kind of deodorant (yay sensitive skin!). I've been keeping things together, though I had a close call when I thought I wasn't going to get a spot in back. I get preferred seating thanks to access services, but I would have had to kick someone out of their seat and....yeah. Thankfully it was all an illusion and I was able to snag the last seat in the back row. Note to self: Don't be so fucking nice, let them get the door themselves, get your ass in there, and get your goddamn seat!
The fighting spirit is still up and moving. Just have to maintain it.
I'm doing the school thing without meds. No antidepressants. No antianxiety meds. I can't afford the doctor's visit and he can't renew my prescription until I go. He's actually been really understanding. It's been almost a year since my last visit and I'm supposed to have a medication management appointment every six. But...I can't afford the visit. So I go without.
So far the major difference seems to be in my degree of exhaustion. I'm always tired, but never quite this much. I'm also a lot sweatier, which...yeah, anxiety. I'm not too stinky, thankfully! That is a big "thankfully" as I'm currently unable to use any kind of deodorant (yay sensitive skin!). I've been keeping things together, though I had a close call when I thought I wasn't going to get a spot in back. I get preferred seating thanks to access services, but I would have had to kick someone out of their seat and....yeah. Thankfully it was all an illusion and I was able to snag the last seat in the back row. Note to self: Don't be so fucking nice, let them get the door themselves, get your ass in there, and get your goddamn seat!
The fighting spirit is still up and moving. Just have to maintain it.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Fall Quarter 2012
Oh yeah, coming up fast. Monday as a matter of fact! Very excited. I feel a little unprepared, but I feel like that at the beginning of every quarter. I'm wishing my M-F math class wasn't in the morning, but I heard good things about this teacher so I'm waking up early. I haven't taken a math class in ten years and I have an anxiety disorder, having a good teacher is going to be the difference between passing and failing for me. :/
My pop culture communications class was cancelled. Sad face. But I still managed to get into another class with the same teacher. She is AMAZING. I've learned that it's important to have good teachers who make you feel safe when you have Panic Disorder. She does. I've had good teachers who just couldn't create that kind of environment, and I have had crappy teachers who could. Just to clarify.
SO EXCITED FOR KOREAN. I can't even express how excited and anxious I am. I can usually *hear* the different phonemes okay, it's just duplicating them where I have trouble. Well...okay, I don't *know* if I have trouble or if I just *feel* like I have trouble. Still excited though. I've got everything necessary installed on my computer (I think). The only thing I need to do is get the keyboard stickers. :D :D :D
I can remember hating the start of the school year when I was younger. Having something that excites passion as your goal? Very awesome. Makes school a fun adventure instead of a chore. I'm even looking forward to the chore classes *koffmathkoff* because they help push me down the path I want :).
Tired, awake, excited, anticipatory, FIGHTING!
My pop culture communications class was cancelled. Sad face. But I still managed to get into another class with the same teacher. She is AMAZING. I've learned that it's important to have good teachers who make you feel safe when you have Panic Disorder. She does. I've had good teachers who just couldn't create that kind of environment, and I have had crappy teachers who could. Just to clarify.
SO EXCITED FOR KOREAN. I can't even express how excited and anxious I am. I can usually *hear* the different phonemes okay, it's just duplicating them where I have trouble. Well...okay, I don't *know* if I have trouble or if I just *feel* like I have trouble. Still excited though. I've got everything necessary installed on my computer (I think). The only thing I need to do is get the keyboard stickers. :D :D :D
I can remember hating the start of the school year when I was younger. Having something that excites passion as your goal? Very awesome. Makes school a fun adventure instead of a chore. I'm even looking forward to the chore classes *koffmathkoff* because they help push me down the path I want :).
Tired, awake, excited, anticipatory, FIGHTING!
Monday, September 17, 2012
My hair
If it hasn't been clear, I'm in a bit of a slump. My temper is...easily triggered, but I'm managing to swallow most of my reactions. I vent on the internet and try to spend as little time with my family as possible. It's not that they're horrible (though insensitive and ignorant at times), it's just...we're in such close proximity all the time that we periodically get on each other's nerves ANYWAYS. My current state means it just effects me more.
The new quarter is starting soon, and I'm beginning to look at what I need to do to transfer to the University of Arizona. I need to get in. So badly. I don't know what's happening with social security. I don't know how I'm going to do at school with no meds to ease my way. I...just need this one thing to go smoothly. I've had a lot of random roadblocks thrown my way lately and, even though they've mostly been trivial matters, it's getting to me.
My fibro isn't too bad lately, but I'm trying to be more physical and dance and stuff and...am paying the usual sort of cost. It's okay. It's also totally worth it.
So why is the title of this post "My Hair"? Well, hypothetical reader, I'll tell you. I've not so jokingly told people in the past that you can gauge my mental condition by the length of my hair. If it abruptly goes short, it means I've gone into a slump where I forget to brush my hair (we won't discuss the other personal hygiene issues that sometimes accompany the situation). So the hair has matted and I've chopped or had it chopped off. The times I've chopped it myself were...entertaining ;). Particularly the summer time ponytail episode. That time it hadn't matted, the summer weather had just *really* gotten to me. To say it was uneven would be an hilarious understatement.
I've been having moments where it's dawned on me that I haven't brushed my hair in a couple of days. Yesterday...actually, day before yesterday at this point...in any case, whatever day it was, i finally hit a moment where I couldn't just brush the tangles out. Had to cut a small mat out. I have beautiful hair, and it's one of my few vanities. It's been a matter of pride to have my hair this long. I don't think it's been this long in...at least six years, possibly closer to thirteen. But I might have to chop it, because I can't take care of it.
If I do...If I do have to chop my hair off because of mental health I plan on dyeing it an outlandish colour. Because I've never been able to. I won't let it be a defeat, it will merely be an opportunity. If I have to chop my hair off, I will chop it SHORT (and donate to locks of love if the hair isn't too damaged) and dye it lavender.
The new quarter is starting soon, and I'm beginning to look at what I need to do to transfer to the University of Arizona. I need to get in. So badly. I don't know what's happening with social security. I don't know how I'm going to do at school with no meds to ease my way. I...just need this one thing to go smoothly. I've had a lot of random roadblocks thrown my way lately and, even though they've mostly been trivial matters, it's getting to me.
My fibro isn't too bad lately, but I'm trying to be more physical and dance and stuff and...am paying the usual sort of cost. It's okay. It's also totally worth it.
So why is the title of this post "My Hair"? Well, hypothetical reader, I'll tell you. I've not so jokingly told people in the past that you can gauge my mental condition by the length of my hair. If it abruptly goes short, it means I've gone into a slump where I forget to brush my hair (we won't discuss the other personal hygiene issues that sometimes accompany the situation). So the hair has matted and I've chopped or had it chopped off. The times I've chopped it myself were...entertaining ;). Particularly the summer time ponytail episode. That time it hadn't matted, the summer weather had just *really* gotten to me. To say it was uneven would be an hilarious understatement.
I've been having moments where it's dawned on me that I haven't brushed my hair in a couple of days. Yesterday...actually, day before yesterday at this point...in any case, whatever day it was, i finally hit a moment where I couldn't just brush the tangles out. Had to cut a small mat out. I have beautiful hair, and it's one of my few vanities. It's been a matter of pride to have my hair this long. I don't think it's been this long in...at least six years, possibly closer to thirteen. But I might have to chop it, because I can't take care of it.
If I do...If I do have to chop my hair off because of mental health I plan on dyeing it an outlandish colour. Because I've never been able to. I won't let it be a defeat, it will merely be an opportunity. If I have to chop my hair off, I will chop it SHORT (and donate to locks of love if the hair isn't too damaged) and dye it lavender.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
My family (maternal line)
My grandfather is kind of an asshole, but he's gotten better over the years. He and I have butted heads many a time, but we love each other. He doesn't understand me, but he seems to have decided that that doesn't matter. We don't talk about anything much, we just sit together and love each other.
My grandmother is kind of a heinous bitch. She's always mean, but funny. So that when she says something horrible she can retreat to the sanctuary of humour. I love her anyways and acknowledge that a good chunk of who I am comes from her...which is why I'm so very careful NOT to be her. I have as much venom in me as she does in her, but I recognize that that's NOT OKAY. So she's the only person I let the venom loose on, and only when she's doing it to family member. She rarely does it to me, but when she does it's more bitchy than funny.
My step-father is an incredibly sweet man, but...he has a temper and he has communication issues. Overall, I would say he is the parent who's most okay with who I am...I think. I don't know if my mother told him anything after I came out to her, so maybe he's not. He is Republican and votes the party, which means he's voting for people who seem to hate everything about me. He's a caring person who'd give you the shirt off his back.
My mother doesn't have a malicious bone in her body and has what my aunt calls an "innocent" sense of humour. I sometimes have to explain jokes. She loves me, but she doesn't understand me. She should never have had children because she's kind of shitty at parenting. She doesn't know how to handle my infirmities, and how seriously she takes them is really hard to figure out. She thinks I'm going to hell and that I've turned away from God.
My older brother is a sanctimonious prick who knows everything and can't mind his own goddamn business He is incredibly disrespectful at times, and I don't appreciate how he talks down to our parents. AT ALL. .When he pulls that shit on me I have to leave the room. He gets my ire up SO MUCH, that if I don't leave I will say something that will start drama that will last until I move. He kind of thinks I'm lazy and periodically makes belittling comments about my infirmities. He loves me, but he often doesn't seem to like me or my presence. He still gave up his room for me and tries to understand me, as well as helping me out with tangible things like taking care of the car and moving stuff.
My other brother just kind of goes with the flow. He's very much like his father, and I have the least bad to say about him. He needs to mind our parents better, and he sometimes thinks my infirmities are just laziness. But...when I'm cramping up, when my fibro is flaring, he is always willing to try and massage the knots out. When my anxiety is flaring and I can't leave the house by myself...he is usually willing to come with me so I have that safety blanket. That said, he's still a sixteen year old boy.
My aunts are both very different people, but they've made life choices that have left them living solo. One of them is a bitter old hag and the other is sweet and ineffectual. They don't have much to do with my life. Neither do my cousins.
My grandmother is kind of a heinous bitch. She's always mean, but funny. So that when she says something horrible she can retreat to the sanctuary of humour. I love her anyways and acknowledge that a good chunk of who I am comes from her...which is why I'm so very careful NOT to be her. I have as much venom in me as she does in her, but I recognize that that's NOT OKAY. So she's the only person I let the venom loose on, and only when she's doing it to family member. She rarely does it to me, but when she does it's more bitchy than funny.
My step-father is an incredibly sweet man, but...he has a temper and he has communication issues. Overall, I would say he is the parent who's most okay with who I am...I think. I don't know if my mother told him anything after I came out to her, so maybe he's not. He is Republican and votes the party, which means he's voting for people who seem to hate everything about me. He's a caring person who'd give you the shirt off his back.
My mother doesn't have a malicious bone in her body and has what my aunt calls an "innocent" sense of humour. I sometimes have to explain jokes. She loves me, but she doesn't understand me. She should never have had children because she's kind of shitty at parenting. She doesn't know how to handle my infirmities, and how seriously she takes them is really hard to figure out. She thinks I'm going to hell and that I've turned away from God.
My older brother is a sanctimonious prick who knows everything and can't mind his own goddamn business He is incredibly disrespectful at times, and I don't appreciate how he talks down to our parents. AT ALL. .When he pulls that shit on me I have to leave the room. He gets my ire up SO MUCH, that if I don't leave I will say something that will start drama that will last until I move. He kind of thinks I'm lazy and periodically makes belittling comments about my infirmities. He loves me, but he often doesn't seem to like me or my presence. He still gave up his room for me and tries to understand me, as well as helping me out with tangible things like taking care of the car and moving stuff.
My other brother just kind of goes with the flow. He's very much like his father, and I have the least bad to say about him. He needs to mind our parents better, and he sometimes thinks my infirmities are just laziness. But...when I'm cramping up, when my fibro is flaring, he is always willing to try and massage the knots out. When my anxiety is flaring and I can't leave the house by myself...he is usually willing to come with me so I have that safety blanket. That said, he's still a sixteen year old boy.
My aunts are both very different people, but they've made life choices that have left them living solo. One of them is a bitter old hag and the other is sweet and ineffectual. They don't have much to do with my life. Neither do my cousins.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Anxiety Dreams, Yay!
So...yeah, anxiety dreams are annoying as hell. I call them anxiety dreams, but they're not exactly. It's hard to explain. If they were actual dreams, I would just call them bad dreams or nightmares. Anxiety dreams...are different. They're kind of like daydreams, but not. I hate the ones of the type I'm currently have the most, I think.
These anxiety dreams always happen late at night (or in the wee hours), usually after I have tried, unsuccessfully, to get to sleep. I will be lying in the dark and my mind will wander those lovely, dark, depressing, anxiety-inducing paths. I will lie there and my mind will go through every scenario of failure it can think of. I won't actually be asleep, but I will have particularly vivid "daydreams" that detail everything that will go wrong. I will usually become aware of what I'm doing only because my leg will be jiggling so hard it makes noise. Yeah, that whole "restless leg" thing may annoy people, but I appreciate it at moments like these. It clues me in to what's going on. If I clue in I can *maybe* do something about it. Even if that something is just giving up the attempt at sleep. If I give up the attempt at sleep I have a chance to distract myself.
I've been avoiding making the call to the social security office. Partially because I hate talking on the phone to people who unintentionally steamroller me into doing things (I mean, they have no real way of knowing that I have major difficulty disagreeing with them, but the effect is still the same :/ ). Partially because...I've been feeling good. I had this random period of a week where, for the first time in over a year, I felt like "Hey, I can totally work and get a job and support myself and not have to go on government aid!". It felt really good...until I quite abruptly crashed.
It was a different experience, that's for sure. I mean, I tend to be overconfident and overestimate what I can do, but nothing like this. It kind of reminded me of what a friend described the "highs" of being bipolar were like. Only not. It's so hard to explain these things, but I feel compelled to. Like...if I explain them maybe I can make sense of them and conquer them. In any case, it was a new and annoying experience. It wasn't just mental/emotional, I felt really good physically for that week. Which was nice.
So now I'll have to call social security and...BAH. I'll probably have to figure out a time to go in and talk to someone, because talking over the phone isn't working. Which means I'll have to find someone to go with me because, yeah, crazy. This is the difficulty, because my mom is not an option. She doesn't think I can get on disability (even though she's the one who encouraged me to apply). I can't help but think, based on little things my family members have said, that my family honestly thinks that I'm lazy. That if I'd just get off my ass and go to a doctor then he'll give me a magic pill that will make me ALL BETTER. My mom, at least, takes the physical side seriously. Most of the time. But I...I love her, but I don't entirely trust her and her opinion of me. Which makes the idea of her going with me (if she even WOULD (which is a whole 'nother story)) less than optimal.
Thus the anxiety dreams come into play. These little waking nightmares, you'd think they'd have me not getting aid and homeless in the streets or something. I mean, that would make sense, right? Nope. In every one I end up on disability. AND NEED IT. I end up going to Arizona and failing. Or if not fully failing, failing enough that I need a keeper. Why? Because I probably do. Personal hygiene is becoming a problem again. Eating is a problem again (fast and binge, fast and binge, food is disgusting because I'm a fat bitch who doesn't NEED to be eating, fast and binge, the thought of food turns my stomach, etc. etc. ad nauseum). I live in a haze punctuated by periods of physical discomfort as my fibro makes itself known.
At times like these it's hard to believe the hope that drives me. It's hard to believe that I can have a future, or at least one of the futures that I *WANT*. It's impossible to believe that someday I could go a day, DAYS, without pain. I'm so grateful for auto-pilot at moments like these, because it's the only thing that keeps the momentum going. Hell, auto-pilot is the only reason I was able to stay EMPLOYED for as long as I did. It's funny, I was known as the customer service queen. Customers loved me. There were days when I couldn't tell you what I'd done that day. Nobody noticed. Because my auto-pilot is DAMNED good.
I'm starting to ramble. Because it's the wee hours, I'm tired, I don't feel good, and my brain hates me. I'd planned on writing a post about my anxiety dreams about the fibro and related crazytown-ness, but apparently it wasn't to be. I would say "Fighting!", but I'm just too damn tired to fight right now. I'd rather have some cheesecake and watch movies. "Cheesecake, just what your fatass needs," says my oh-so-helpful brain. *sigh*
It gets better. It gets better. It gets better. I know it from past experience. I know I know it. I just wish it would hurry up and get better NOW.
These anxiety dreams always happen late at night (or in the wee hours), usually after I have tried, unsuccessfully, to get to sleep. I will be lying in the dark and my mind will wander those lovely, dark, depressing, anxiety-inducing paths. I will lie there and my mind will go through every scenario of failure it can think of. I won't actually be asleep, but I will have particularly vivid "daydreams" that detail everything that will go wrong. I will usually become aware of what I'm doing only because my leg will be jiggling so hard it makes noise. Yeah, that whole "restless leg" thing may annoy people, but I appreciate it at moments like these. It clues me in to what's going on. If I clue in I can *maybe* do something about it. Even if that something is just giving up the attempt at sleep. If I give up the attempt at sleep I have a chance to distract myself.
I've been avoiding making the call to the social security office. Partially because I hate talking on the phone to people who unintentionally steamroller me into doing things (I mean, they have no real way of knowing that I have major difficulty disagreeing with them, but the effect is still the same :/ ). Partially because...I've been feeling good. I had this random period of a week where, for the first time in over a year, I felt like "Hey, I can totally work and get a job and support myself and not have to go on government aid!". It felt really good...until I quite abruptly crashed.
It was a different experience, that's for sure. I mean, I tend to be overconfident and overestimate what I can do, but nothing like this. It kind of reminded me of what a friend described the "highs" of being bipolar were like. Only not. It's so hard to explain these things, but I feel compelled to. Like...if I explain them maybe I can make sense of them and conquer them. In any case, it was a new and annoying experience. It wasn't just mental/emotional, I felt really good physically for that week. Which was nice.
So now I'll have to call social security and...BAH. I'll probably have to figure out a time to go in and talk to someone, because talking over the phone isn't working. Which means I'll have to find someone to go with me because, yeah, crazy. This is the difficulty, because my mom is not an option. She doesn't think I can get on disability (even though she's the one who encouraged me to apply). I can't help but think, based on little things my family members have said, that my family honestly thinks that I'm lazy. That if I'd just get off my ass and go to a doctor then he'll give me a magic pill that will make me ALL BETTER. My mom, at least, takes the physical side seriously. Most of the time. But I...I love her, but I don't entirely trust her and her opinion of me. Which makes the idea of her going with me (if she even WOULD (which is a whole 'nother story)) less than optimal.
Thus the anxiety dreams come into play. These little waking nightmares, you'd think they'd have me not getting aid and homeless in the streets or something. I mean, that would make sense, right? Nope. In every one I end up on disability. AND NEED IT. I end up going to Arizona and failing. Or if not fully failing, failing enough that I need a keeper. Why? Because I probably do. Personal hygiene is becoming a problem again. Eating is a problem again (fast and binge, fast and binge, food is disgusting because I'm a fat bitch who doesn't NEED to be eating, fast and binge, the thought of food turns my stomach, etc. etc. ad nauseum). I live in a haze punctuated by periods of physical discomfort as my fibro makes itself known.
At times like these it's hard to believe the hope that drives me. It's hard to believe that I can have a future, or at least one of the futures that I *WANT*. It's impossible to believe that someday I could go a day, DAYS, without pain. I'm so grateful for auto-pilot at moments like these, because it's the only thing that keeps the momentum going. Hell, auto-pilot is the only reason I was able to stay EMPLOYED for as long as I did. It's funny, I was known as the customer service queen. Customers loved me. There were days when I couldn't tell you what I'd done that day. Nobody noticed. Because my auto-pilot is DAMNED good.
I'm starting to ramble. Because it's the wee hours, I'm tired, I don't feel good, and my brain hates me. I'd planned on writing a post about my anxiety dreams about the fibro and related crazytown-ness, but apparently it wasn't to be. I would say "Fighting!", but I'm just too damn tired to fight right now. I'd rather have some cheesecake and watch movies. "Cheesecake, just what your fatass needs," says my oh-so-helpful brain. *sigh*
It gets better. It gets better. It gets better. I know it from past experience. I know I know it. I just wish it would hurry up and get better NOW.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Yearning
I hate August. I hate Hate HATE August. It hates me back. The humidity kills my fibro, as well as leaving me prostrate and fatigued. I find myself praying and begging for a weather turn. Someday I will be careful what I wish for. Because when that abrupt change happens (with it's corresponding change in barometric pressure) I'm incapacitated for at least a day afterwards. The only thing meaner to my body than the humidity is pressure changes. Which means I am REALLY living in the wrong part of the world. Which means I am REALLY yearning for Arizona, its consistent weather, low humidity, and drinking buddies.
As I prepare for the coming school year, Arizona, university and the move have me excited. They are frighteningly and exhilaratingly close. Three quarters. That's it. The next time I talk to the advising department I'll be starting the application and transfer process. I'm praying that there won't be any roadblocks, but even if there are I'll still be moving to Arizona. I'll just have to keep trying to get in once I'm down there. I hope my faculty advisor is right about me being an attractive candidate for the linguistics program. It's only THREE quarters away and I have so much to do to prepare!
But when my fibro flares my brain doesn't look at it that way. It's TEN MONTHS away. AT LEAST. I'm going to have to suffer through this shit for another TEN MONTHS. Why can't I teleport??
I'm really tired right now. People looking at me from the outside would roll their eyes and call me lazy (something I'm used to at this point). But the constant pain is exhausting. I'll settle into a status quo, where my pain levels will level out and I'll be in a constant state of ache and fatigue. Those are the good times, because I can cope. The great times are when I barely hurt. The bad times are when the pain spikes for whatever reason and I find myself crying, or dry heaving, or rocking back and forth, all because of pain. Then I have sharp,debilitating pain and complete exhaustion.
I can still find hope in that though. "WHY" you may ask (with a WTF look on your theoretical face). At those moments when I'm in tears I can truly believe that my worsening symptoms of mental illness are directly related to my physical problems. I can believe, at that point, that if I can move to Arizona and get the physical under control...maybe my mental issues won't be so bad.
As the kids say "Aja! Fighting!"
As I prepare for the coming school year, Arizona, university and the move have me excited. They are frighteningly and exhilaratingly close. Three quarters. That's it. The next time I talk to the advising department I'll be starting the application and transfer process. I'm praying that there won't be any roadblocks, but even if there are I'll still be moving to Arizona. I'll just have to keep trying to get in once I'm down there. I hope my faculty advisor is right about me being an attractive candidate for the linguistics program. It's only THREE quarters away and I have so much to do to prepare!
But when my fibro flares my brain doesn't look at it that way. It's TEN MONTHS away. AT LEAST. I'm going to have to suffer through this shit for another TEN MONTHS. Why can't I teleport??
I'm really tired right now. People looking at me from the outside would roll their eyes and call me lazy (something I'm used to at this point). But the constant pain is exhausting. I'll settle into a status quo, where my pain levels will level out and I'll be in a constant state of ache and fatigue. Those are the good times, because I can cope. The great times are when I barely hurt. The bad times are when the pain spikes for whatever reason and I find myself crying, or dry heaving, or rocking back and forth, all because of pain. Then I have sharp,debilitating pain and complete exhaustion.
I can still find hope in that though. "WHY" you may ask (with a WTF look on your theoretical face). At those moments when I'm in tears I can truly believe that my worsening symptoms of mental illness are directly related to my physical problems. I can believe, at that point, that if I can move to Arizona and get the physical under control...maybe my mental issues won't be so bad.
As the kids say "Aja! Fighting!"
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
The joys of chronic pain
I am experiencing intense pain right now. It's not new. I'm used to it. It leaves me in tears, but it's not an unfamiliar feeling. I can tell how helpless my mother feels when I come out of the room in tears because I hurt so bad and there's nothing I can do about it. I mean, marijuana can help, but I have no idea how to get it. And then taking it would be a problem. My mom is even (theoretically) okay with it if it would mean I wasn't hurting. But it's a moot point because I have no way of getting my hands on it.
I laughed earlier. My mom said I needed to see a doctor. I could hear the helpless frustration in her voice as she saw her daughter in tears and crippled with pain as her sons try to work the knots out of their sister's neck (didn't work but helped a little). I laughed because doctors don't do shit. I have very little respect for the medical profession. Because they wouldn't even prescribe me anti-inflammatories to help with the pain. They just told me to exercise and work through it, because all I need to do is lose weight. I had a doctor (before the fibro diagnosis) tell me that I was in this crippling pain because, wait for it... MY UNDERWEAR WAS TOO TIGHT. Yup. Chronic pain? You're just a fatass and need to wear bigger granny panties.
I don't know why I'm blogging. I just...I get so tired of being alone in my pain. Even when I have other fibro sufferers to commiserate with...no matter what no one can sit in your pain with you. Your always alone, and if someone tries to come to your aid they just feel helpless. Sympathy and empathy are wonderful things, and it's nice to know people care, but... Pain is a lonely, solitary place and I am heartily sick of it.
As always, hope will get me through.
But it still sucks.
I laughed earlier. My mom said I needed to see a doctor. I could hear the helpless frustration in her voice as she saw her daughter in tears and crippled with pain as her sons try to work the knots out of their sister's neck (didn't work but helped a little). I laughed because doctors don't do shit. I have very little respect for the medical profession. Because they wouldn't even prescribe me anti-inflammatories to help with the pain. They just told me to exercise and work through it, because all I need to do is lose weight. I had a doctor (before the fibro diagnosis) tell me that I was in this crippling pain because, wait for it... MY UNDERWEAR WAS TOO TIGHT. Yup. Chronic pain? You're just a fatass and need to wear bigger granny panties.
I don't know why I'm blogging. I just...I get so tired of being alone in my pain. Even when I have other fibro sufferers to commiserate with...no matter what no one can sit in your pain with you. Your always alone, and if someone tries to come to your aid they just feel helpless. Sympathy and empathy are wonderful things, and it's nice to know people care, but... Pain is a lonely, solitary place and I am heartily sick of it.
As always, hope will get me through.
But it still sucks.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Some things
Thing the first-
So I'm a Lawsbian, that is to say a fan of the most fabulous Bloggess. The most fantastic thing about being a Lawsbian is all the other Lawsbians. It's a community of misfits brought together by our differences and commonalities. Most other groups I'm a member of are "misfit" groups as well, but they don't fully espouse the principles of "acceptance" the way Lawsbians do. In other groups I'm a member of, acceptance comes with qualifiers. This has not been the case in my experiences with my fellow Lawsbians. "You like the Bloggess? Friend! You're broken? Me too! You're feeling crappy? Love! Support! Hugs!" It's quite fantabulously wonderful.
Thing the second-
I'm sort of starting the Principia Discordia for the first time. I am again reminded of (and amused by) the fact that in high school everyone thought I was a pothead and I couldn't understand WHY.
Thing the third-
On a less fabulous note the keyword search "problems in lavender marriages" brought someone to my blog. I can't help but be curious as to why they were searching that. My first reaction was "Oh, honey, don't do it!" (even though I obviously cannot contact the person). My second reaction was "I should blog about this". My third reaction was distraction as I searched for (unrelated) twine.
Thing the last-
My body fucking hates me. No, seriously, it fucking HATES me. I don't know what its deal is, but it's decided that every night it needs to do something to my neck and if I don't get heat on it pronto ain't no pain medication gonna do SHIT. I didn't have the heat thingummy the other night (my mom needed it for her frozen shoulder) and spent the next day miserable. Fuck. Seriously. It kinda makes me wish I had my medical marijuana friend nearby (she also has fibro and would share with me when the pain got too much). I can't stand the stuff, but it does work. fu-huh-huh-UCK.
So I'm a Lawsbian, that is to say a fan of the most fabulous Bloggess. The most fantastic thing about being a Lawsbian is all the other Lawsbians. It's a community of misfits brought together by our differences and commonalities. Most other groups I'm a member of are "misfit" groups as well, but they don't fully espouse the principles of "acceptance" the way Lawsbians do. In other groups I'm a member of, acceptance comes with qualifiers. This has not been the case in my experiences with my fellow Lawsbians. "You like the Bloggess? Friend! You're broken? Me too! You're feeling crappy? Love! Support! Hugs!" It's quite fantabulously wonderful.
Thing the second-
I'm sort of starting the Principia Discordia for the first time. I am again reminded of (and amused by) the fact that in high school everyone thought I was a pothead and I couldn't understand WHY.
Thing the third-
On a less fabulous note the keyword search "problems in lavender marriages" brought someone to my blog. I can't help but be curious as to why they were searching that. My first reaction was "Oh, honey, don't do it!" (even though I obviously cannot contact the person). My second reaction was "I should blog about this". My third reaction was distraction as I searched for (unrelated) twine.
Thing the last-
My body fucking hates me. No, seriously, it fucking HATES me. I don't know what its deal is, but it's decided that every night it needs to do something to my neck and if I don't get heat on it pronto ain't no pain medication gonna do SHIT. I didn't have the heat thingummy the other night (my mom needed it for her frozen shoulder) and spent the next day miserable. Fuck. Seriously. It kinda makes me wish I had my medical marijuana friend nearby (she also has fibro and would share with me when the pain got too much). I can't stand the stuff, but it does work. fu-huh-huh-UCK.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Darnit
So I was all set to have an epic (alright, maybe epic is the wrong word, but still) battle involving armor and weapons made from aluminum foil. My fibro has been flaring for the last few days, so I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed when everyone cancelled on me. If they hadn't cancelled, I would have done it and paid for it for DAYS. I know this. But it would have been so much fun!!
It's so hard to formulate coherent and complete thoughts when your fibro and sinus problems are flaring, causing inordinate amounts of pain, little to no sleep, and just plain crankiness. I want to do a bunch of stuff but it just isn't happening. This morning I didn't move out of bed for two hours because I had miraculously found a position where I was barely in any pain AT ALL. Practically pain free is a glorious thing. I finally got out of bed and started hurting. Now I'm just trying to stay awake so that I can sleep tonight, because for some reason I think it will help (even though I know it won't).
It's so annoying. I can't even read right now. I'm the girl who has a serious book habit, but I can't focus on the page and story for longer than a minute. Which is really pissing me off, because I have now started three awesome books and I just can't read them. I found "Skulduggery Pleasant" through the Goodreads recommendations bar and started reading it. Fantastic! I love books that have strong heroines in their early teens, and this book also has an animate skeleton, magic, a sense of humour, and decent writing. It's also the first book in a series, which means that there are more books waiting for me!! I'm a third of the way through and I stare at the page and blink. Sometimes I turn a few pages and can't remember what happened, so have to turn back.
A friend of mine recommended an author to me, so I picked up one of her books at the library. "Discount Armageddon" has as its main character a cryptozoologist who helps maintain a balanced ecosystem...and is a professional ballroom dancer. !!! I'm also a third of the way through that one and am annoyed that i'm having such difficulty reading.
Aside from those two books specifically, I managed to get all the "Vatta's War" books that I had not been aware had been published so I could marathon them...but I can't even get started. As well as the Stevermer-Wrede book "The Mislaid Magician", which is part of a simply marvelous series/world they've created, Betty White's memoir, Lilian Gish's biography, and a number of others that just look fantastic. I have bibliophile grief right now because pain is costing me my ability to process what I'm reading.
Wait. What the fuck. Why is pain costing me the ability to read, but not to write?! There is no fucking justice in the world. FUCK.
Did I mention that my profanity level increases exponentially when my fibro is flaring and I'm tired, cranky, and being foiled in my plans by the universe and my motherfucking asshole of a body? Fucken, fuck, fuckity, FUCK FUCK, fucken bullshit, shitfuck, craptacularly fucked up shitwagon. Fuck is my favourite word right now.
Fuck.
It's so hard to formulate coherent and complete thoughts when your fibro and sinus problems are flaring, causing inordinate amounts of pain, little to no sleep, and just plain crankiness. I want to do a bunch of stuff but it just isn't happening. This morning I didn't move out of bed for two hours because I had miraculously found a position where I was barely in any pain AT ALL. Practically pain free is a glorious thing. I finally got out of bed and started hurting. Now I'm just trying to stay awake so that I can sleep tonight, because for some reason I think it will help (even though I know it won't).
It's so annoying. I can't even read right now. I'm the girl who has a serious book habit, but I can't focus on the page and story for longer than a minute. Which is really pissing me off, because I have now started three awesome books and I just can't read them. I found "Skulduggery Pleasant" through the Goodreads recommendations bar and started reading it. Fantastic! I love books that have strong heroines in their early teens, and this book also has an animate skeleton, magic, a sense of humour, and decent writing. It's also the first book in a series, which means that there are more books waiting for me!! I'm a third of the way through and I stare at the page and blink. Sometimes I turn a few pages and can't remember what happened, so have to turn back.
A friend of mine recommended an author to me, so I picked up one of her books at the library. "Discount Armageddon" has as its main character a cryptozoologist who helps maintain a balanced ecosystem...and is a professional ballroom dancer. !!! I'm also a third of the way through that one and am annoyed that i'm having such difficulty reading.
Aside from those two books specifically, I managed to get all the "Vatta's War" books that I had not been aware had been published so I could marathon them...but I can't even get started. As well as the Stevermer-Wrede book "The Mislaid Magician", which is part of a simply marvelous series/world they've created, Betty White's memoir, Lilian Gish's biography, and a number of others that just look fantastic. I have bibliophile grief right now because pain is costing me my ability to process what I'm reading.
Wait. What the fuck. Why is pain costing me the ability to read, but not to write?! There is no fucking justice in the world. FUCK.
Did I mention that my profanity level increases exponentially when my fibro is flaring and I'm tired, cranky, and being foiled in my plans by the universe and my motherfucking asshole of a body? Fucken, fuck, fuckity, FUCK FUCK, fucken bullshit, shitfuck, craptacularly fucked up shitwagon. Fuck is my favourite word right now.
Fuck.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
June Faire
Lordie Lordie Lordie. I am exhausted. Today was June Faire and my international students had a blast. So many pictures were taken. So much walking was done. My whole body is sore. I ache. It was worth it.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Humidity
So I was checking the weather reports today to see if it might be warm enough to wear shorts or capris (it's on the line, so I went with jeans). Looking at the city my college is at "69% Humidity", looking at the city closest to my small town "74% humidity". Being who I am, I of course decided to check the town I'm planning on moving to next year "7% humidity".... O.O It's been so long since I've lived in a low humidity place that my mind kind of boggles at this. It also does a happy dance, because humidity is the second biggest thing that effects my fibro.
I still have another year to get through though, and I need to work REALLY hard at school if I'm going to get my grades where they need to be to get into the linguistics program. I still haven't taken the math placement test because, well, MATH. Math and I have a mutually antagonistic relationship. We should probably see about mediation or something, because I doubt it's healthy for either one of us.
All kidding aside, I need to buckle down and study for the math...while finishing all my english projects...and communications projects...and daily assignments...and keeping up in music...and... *sigh*
Fighting!
I still have another year to get through though, and I need to work REALLY hard at school if I'm going to get my grades where they need to be to get into the linguistics program. I still haven't taken the math placement test because, well, MATH. Math and I have a mutually antagonistic relationship. We should probably see about mediation or something, because I doubt it's healthy for either one of us.
All kidding aside, I need to buckle down and study for the math...while finishing all my english projects...and communications projects...and daily assignments...and keeping up in music...and... *sigh*
Fighting!
Saturday, April 21, 2012
le sigh
I'm trying to buckle down to my homework, but it's difficult for a number of reasons. First and foremost is that it's nice outside and I'd like to be out there reading. Yes, I did say reading. Don't judge me! hehehe. Seriously, one of the best things about summertime for me was always grabbing a blanket and going outside to read (in the shade usually because I'm deathly afraid of skin cancer). The other reasons is because the weather pendulum has swung again, so my fibro says it is angry and I HURT. This makes it hard to concentrate on anything for any decent length of time.
I have a whole bunch of schoolwork and need to study math so I can test out high enough to be done with my AA by next summer. But I just want a hammock and a book right now...Unfortunately I *have* the books, so I'm being less than productive ;)
I have a whole bunch of schoolwork and need to study math so I can test out high enough to be done with my AA by next summer. But I just want a hammock and a book right now...Unfortunately I *have* the books, so I'm being less than productive ;)
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