Tag Archive: about me


I woke up in an…interesting…headspace this morning, and I’m finding myself easily angered or easily brought to tears. After spending almost forty-five minutes typing up my response to the last link I shared, I am realizing that I really need to not be on Facebook today. The comments I wrote were basically a culmination of three different articles, shared by different people, that hurt my heart. Rin put the Piano Guys on her laptop awhile ago in an effort to help me feel better and it is helping some, but I also have to take the next logical thought step and realize that it won’t continue to help if I keep tying myself up in knots.

One of the reasons of late that I have stopped reading all of the articles that people share and I have stopped responding to things that I find upsetting is because I feel too damn much and I see what I think should be obvious solutions and yet I watch people tear those solutions to pieces, either because they believe I am too liberal or too young or too female or too whatever, and I find that inordinately frustrating.

I have unspoken agreements with multiple people that we are to never discuss politics, because that way lies madness; in some cases, it has been that way for years. And yet, I have watched some of those people’s beliefs evolve far beyond what they used to be and I hear them agreeing with things that do not even make sense, or I see them believing something simply because a republican told it to them and it makes me crazy. I posted a link about Cobb County last night and how they had basically bamboozled bringing in the new Braves stadium and if I were of a mind to build my values and politics only on considering that all democrats are out to get people as so many of the people I mentioned above do, then I would have automatically assumed that the politicians involved in the shady deal were certainly democrats; however, the reality was that they were republicans and they knew exactly what they were doing even as they tried to stand by and say that they did everything “according to the rules”. I’d like to think that people in Cobb County would remember this come Election Day, but I sadly believe that the reality is that a) they won’t remember it and b) they are so anti-the other party that they will vote for the same politicians because it “still is better than the other side” once again voting against their own best interests. It. Is. Maddening.

I am not going to lie; I tend to largely vote democrat because of the two parties, they believe in more things that I believe in, and the current brand of republican wants to do too much to inhibit my life and my choices while trying to claim “religious freedom” and other bull shit arguments that have no place in politics, and that tends to make me angry. (Also, even when I was a devout, regular church going Christian, I STILL believed that church and state should be separated because I no more wanted politicians telling me what to pray and when to pray and what type of Christianity to believe then than I want them involved in politics now.) That said, I actually research both candidates and do occasionally pick a republican option because I feel that in that office they are the better choice, but the key there is that I do my research. I all too often hear the “liberals are all evil/stupid/what’s wrong with this country/socialists/comminists/nazis/ignorant/etc.” argument as though liberal has come to be a dirty word. (In fairness, I have seen liberal friends act the same way about the word conservative and have made comments similar to the ones I am making now.) This polarization is hurting us all and the current main steam media are doing everything that they can to fuel it while still trying to make people believe that they are unbiased, but frankly, if you believe that ANY news source is unbiased then you are showing an astounding amount of ignorance. As Dr. Yow, my American Studies professor (amongst other classes because she was amazing) said, “Everyone has an agenda. Everyone.” Some people’s agenda is to live their life in simplicity and kindness; other people’s agenda is to take over the world in whatever way that they can. It is so important to remember that and to keep it in mind with everything that you read or hear.

There is a huge part of me that wants to just start smacking people’s heads together to see if it would help. I see people that I know to be smart, to be kind, to care about others forget all of that to pursue their own agendas whether it be their own interpretation of Christianity, their political beliefs, or their hate for some “Other”, and it hurts my heart. I often wonder if they ever stop and realize the message they are sending to people. I wonder if some of the people that I am friends with – some family, others I went to school with or met through other ways – have made me incredibly strident in my opinion to not call myself a Christian ever again because I do not want to be counted amidst their number. I wonder if any if them would care or if they already count me as not worth their time because I am not like them anymore. To me, even as a young child, even when I was unsure about things I heard people at church say, I understood one thing: Jesus is love and he demands love in return, not just to him, but to everyone. I remember feeling conflicted in spirit when I would join in making fun of other youth groups or other denominations, or when I would join a group of people making fun of another kid because I wanted so badly to be “cool”. I remember as I got older feeling conflicted in spirit at some of the messages that people around me were saying, and I remember looking at two men who became my adopted big brothers, who had a stronger, healthier relationship than many Christian couples I knew, and wondered how I could believe that their love was wrong. I stayed conflicted on that point and a couple of others for so long that I actually found solace and peace in the pagan community because there was too much hate in the Christian one.

It also did not help that at the point that I left church for the last time, only one person really cared why and no one else asked. At the time, I was dealing with remembering things that had happened to me as a child and as a teen and let me tell you, rape and molestation flashbacks are not fun and they certainly do not leave you feeling social. To this day, I suspect that many of the people I called “friends” at that point thought I left because of a relationship, but the truth is that I left because the secrets I had kept hidden were eating me from the inside out and there was no solace for me at church because I felt no safety. I had overheard too many conversations, usually by adults, blaming victims and after my experiences in middle school with trying to talk to authority figures about things that were happening there, there was no way I was sharing what was making me feel so utterly fragile, not even with my “friends”. One person cared enough to ask after me and even that relationship faltered at the time for reasons on both of our parts but is actually better now which is a thousand kinds of awesome. So, forgive me if my impressions of church these days sound something like, “They will love you so long as you tow the party line and so long as you look happy” as opposed to how I used to find church which was as a place for peace and love, a place to go when you were broken inside and needed strength, a place to find a kinship with your Christian family and comfort at their tables.

That craving for peace and love is one of the reasons that I love Glennon at Momamstery so flipping much. I often read her writing and I feel like I am in church, wrapped in the peace of Creator and the Universe and there is peace -for me- there, no matter how broken, scared, or confused I am. I let G be a guide for Christians for me so that I do not let my heart become full of hate for the others I see who profess to be so very holy, because I do not want to become a person who is that cold and I do not want to be a person who lumps everyone in a group into one negative category. There are a few other people that I have let into that space with G, like Julie Hatcher and Rin’s Aunt Marijo, people who have pieces of the divine inside them, who share it with everyone and demand nothing in return. I know I will never be as selfless as those types of people, but I also strive to carry a piece of the divine inside myself, to shine a light of kindness back to people. I strive to remember that everyone is fighting a battle and to that person their battle can be all-consuming and there isn’t always room for kindness and love to others.

I try to speak to others with love in mind, even when I am angry or when I feel they are terrible people because I also know that they are still people, still humans fighting a battle. In doing so, I am learning that it is possible to love someone and also know that they are just not good people, to wish them peace but also to wish justice for their wrongs. I am also learning that I have to speak to myself with the same love and the same compassion and not just because my therapist tells me to, but because it is right and good and important. If all people are worthy of love and compassion and I am a person, then I, too, am worthy of those things. In opening myself up to loving no matter what (though do not equate love with being a doormat because it is definitely not that), I have also made myself more vulnerable and oh, that is so hard. My heart seems live somewhere between my sleeve and my throat, and I sometimes wonder if it is worth being so open to love and compassion because some days, ya’ll, that shit hurts. It means not reading articles about sad things or awful things and turning a jaded eye, because my heart tends to be right there and it sees the humanity and it hurts. (Coincidentally, this is also why I am learning to be more discerning of what I am reading and to give myself permission to not read every link shared and to set boundaries for myself when it comes to things I know will make me feel/angry/sad/etc.) It also means that I make myself see the humanity in everyone even when I disagree with them, because to refuse to do so makes them “other” and when we start to make people “others”, we stop seeing ourselves in them and it becomes easier to hate them, to dismiss them, to denigrate then, to disparage them, or even, for some, to kill them.

A couple of different interruptions have broken my train of thought, which is likely for the best given that I had aimed for this to be a short but pithy post on Facebook that I have had to shift to my blog for sheer space constraints. (Later, I will likely also shift my comments on the link mentioned above, but I cannot copy and paste from the FB iPad app and I am Definitely not doing it again right now.) I honestly am not certain how to wrap this up at this point, so I think I am just going to let it lie and move on to something else. Yesterday, Dr. Maya Angelou died and it saddened me for a lot of reasons, but one of the deepest was that her words have helped me shape who I am at different times in my life, but especially lately. One of her quotes that I saw shared multiple times yesterday was the directive to “be a rainbow in someone else’s cloud,” and it seems a good way to help some up the concept that “love wins”. If we each strive to be a rainbow in the darkness, then we will make the world a better place. It might be simplistic, but sometimes, simple is truly the best answer. I have several other quotes of hers jotted down in my current journal, but one that I think fits this post nicely, and which I will close with today is about life’s mission. I want to come back and talk about my feelings on Maya Angelou at a later point, but this quote seems a fitting end to this lengthy musing.

My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive…with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.
~Dr. Maya Angelou

Love wins and we can do hard things.
Until next time,
~B

As might be obvious in a moment, I started this post on FB, intending to just make a quick, slightly whiny post and go back to what I was doing. It ended up turning (at least somewhat) into a post I’ve been trying to write for a week.

What’s on my mind, FB? Too much to actually process apparently. I keep getting distracted so easily that I can’t even remember what I was doing two minutes ago, which is basically the LAST thing I need tonight. I’m trying to finish getting my things together for this trip of insanity because I keep stopping in the middle of that to help someone else or just to stare at the wall.

While I can objectively step back and realize that the week delay in leaving has been an overall net good (we’ve had more time to get better, we’ve managed to get some of the work done in the house that we’ve not been able to for awhile from a combo of necessity/prednisone/packing chaos, and Rin’s glasses FINALLY came in this morning), it is also a point of frustration because we had a sort-of schedule and it obviously needs changing now. And, objectively, I know that’s okay. The people who that schedule change is going to affect already know and have been in contact and they keep telling us to calm down and not worry so much (which is helpful and more appreciated than they likely know), so basically, fretting over it is a by-product of my brain being unkind to me as opposed to something to truly be concerned about. I also logically know that I’ve known from the minute we started talking about this trip that it was going to have to be approached differently from normal. There were going to have to be allowances made for a body (mine) that is doing new and interesting things in the name of fuckery and I knew that I was going to have to make allowances for the brain changing work I’ve been doing and to remember to be compassionate with myself despite my frustration.

But all of that falls into the “logical” portion of my brain that I can look at from a distance. The “emotional” part of my brain seems to be running around like a three year old in a tantrum, throwing out phrases like, “I can’t do this,” “this is stupid,” and “let’s go hide under the covers; they’ll never find us there.” I’m tired despite having slept for a good chunk of last night and today (not that tired is a new state, because it seems to be the norm). I’m in pain because my joints are are being cranky and *glances at clock* it’s likely time for more medicine and I just want to scream about it but all that would do is make my head hurt and not actually solve any problems. I’m having a night where I want to have a stompy fit and rage about how “unfair” it all is as though somewhere along the way I was promised fairness which is absurd and most of the time that phrase isn’t even one that I tend to think let alone give voice to, because life isn’t fair and everyone should know that. But tonight, apparently, with the worst timing possible, my brain seems to be clinging to the need for fair as though it were an option.

I’ve obviously been pretty quiet the last few months. There’ve been reasons, some better than others. A lot of it has been the simple fact that I’ve not had much energy for dealing outside of my small part of the world. Health issues have been the name of the game since before October when my gallbladder started going rogue and they haven’t slowed down since. Since October, I’ve spent chunks of at least 3 months dealing with medicines that were causing horrible side effects and the withdrawal from those same medicines in the name of finding something that worked better. Two of those were for ADD which was incredibly frustrating because I really just wanted my old medicine back. I’m on a new med for that that is mostly helping so long as I remember to take it super early in the day and understand that it just isn’t as good as Old Medicine was. One of those was me humoring my doctor. Since I was having trouble at the first dose of  New ADD Medicine, and since I have pain issues, she wanted me to try Wellbutrin because it theoretically works well with the other medicine. I hate most medicines in the family that Wellbutrin falls into. I’ve had shitty luck with a lot of them and have managed to not take any of them since I stopped taking them about ten years ago because they just don’t do good things for me. But, time does change things and she put the choice in my hands, from the start of the medicine to the parameters for stopping if necessary, so I agreed to try it. I figure if she’ll work with me, I should work with her.

I tried it.

It was a very failed experiment, one that we didn’t realize all of the repercussions of until after I stopped taking it. It was actually making me sick (like with laryngitis sick), so we figured that some of the side effects the medicine was causing were just me having a cold. A few things culminated in the realization that, no, the medicine was responsible, and also, the utter numb/lack of caring about anything was a HUGE problem. So. I stopped taking it. And had almost a week of withdrawal issues followed by issues that I am STILL sorting back out. You see, one of the things I’ve been doing in therapy is learning how to deal with emotions as they come as opposed to shoving them into boxes either because I don’t want to deal with them/don’t have time to deal with them/can’t deal with them. This involves a new level of vulnerable living that is taking some adjusting to. It means that for the last six months, my emotions have been a bit…raw…at times while trying to sort where some of those bad habits came from and while working with myself to fix them. And in the last three months, I’ve been able to stop and pinpoint exact places where the therapy is working, that the mental ass kicking I’m doing is working, and that this is a Very Good Thing. And that is GREAT. Seriously. But.

But…

The Wellbutrin that I took for ten days turned me into an emotional zombie. I didn’t feel anything, didn’t care about anything, and didn’t really understand how much of a change it was making. I saw that I was having trouble making decisions, that I was having trouble writing, that I was having trouble knitting, and basically, was just Having Trouble. The big moment of “oh shit” came the night before a brain MRI. While I won’t say that I should have been freaking out over it, let’s say there should have been some level of concern and care involved. I didn’t. Rin was able to then realize that I had gotten myself stuck on something that Dr. L had said and had turned it into a Rule That Had to Be Followed. (In this case, she’d wanted me to try the medicine for two weeks, but it was never, “you HAVE to try it for two weeks”.) She took the medicine away and recovery started. Within 16 hours, my voice was almost back to normal. Thirty-six hours later and it was perfect again and ya’ll, I just don’t recover from laryngitis that fast. Within two days, I was so overwhelmed by my own brain that I wasn’t sure what to do and so it went.

Why am I writing all of this? I sure as hell don’t necessarily want to admit all of this. I don’t really want to stand up and say, “Hey, yeah, so I’m incredibly vulnerable right now and I’m learning how to be a better me and that means needing some extra space and care from other people,” because anytime you put a sentence like that out there, there are so many opinions you can get from the absurd (“you just need more self-control”) to the painful where someone sees that admission and decides to run over your boundaries anyway. It means standing up and saying, “I’m delicate” and waiting to see what happens next.

And yet, part of being able to stand up and say that is some of what I’ve been working on. Not hiding everything, not pretending to be something I’m not (which includes pretending to be “okay” when I’m not), not locking everything inside to maybe deal with later is all a part of this process. And some of it I was working on before I walked into therapy. By reading people like Glennon and actually taking the words she writes to heart, I’ve been working on this for months. Therapy is just adding to the groundwork I’ve already started and it has given me tools to build a better foundation. I like words, and that is one of the biggest things that my therapist has given me actual words to combat the things my brain likes to do. Mindfulness is helping me a helluva lot and that is also a good thing. Being able to stop and look at the things in my head and say, ‘Okay, you’re trying this old bad habit but I’m not going to let you” or even, “Okay, I’m going to give you two minutes to be Prophetess of Doom and Gloom, but then you’re going to stop and move on” is a huge help for me.

I just also feel fragile. A lot. Rin has been doing so much to help with all of this. She goes to therapy with me every week so that I can actually walk in the door. She helps me remember things (good and bad) that I forget through the week so that I can tell Kim about it. She helps put me back together when the world is too overwhelming, she drags me out of the house when she realizes I’m just hiding behind fear instead of a legitimate reason, and she basically, all around takes care of me. At varying points in the last six months, both because of my brain chemistry and because of all of the other health problems, she’s basically been supporting me so much that I don’t know what I’d have done without her. She helps me make decisions when I get stuck on little things. Hell, there are days she finds me something to wear when even that seems too overwhelming. (Did I mention just how bad some of the medicine side effects were at varying times?) She helped take care of me post-surgery recovery which I’m sure was a ton of fun, because after four weeks, I got more than a little whiny.

One of the frustrating points in all of this is that it feels as though I’ll find a point of balance and then something else comes and yanks that from under my feet. I’ll find a medicine combo that works and then stops working, so I need something new. Or, my body will do something new and creative (read: generally terrifying) and it’s time to reevaluate again. Her and Kero both are a constant source of help in all of this (though, Kero, obviously is less involved in the exact details of everything going on; she’ll get details like, “Mom’s having a bad reaction to a medicine” but not the specifics of what and why and she also doesn’t know about the quest for MS because she doesn’t need to worry about it; she knows there are tests but not necessarily what they are for and I need it to stay that way). Balance is something I crave which is pretty hilarious to me because a lot of times, I’m just…not great at it. It has been particularly frustrating with some of the new symptoms (or in most cases worsening of other symptoms) because I’ve not been able to pull my magic tricks of “okay, if this happens, then I can do ‘x’ to make it easier” because there’s not a lot you can do about suddenly falling over for no reason and there’s not a lot you can do when your limbs decide to just ignore the fuckin’ signals your brain tries to send to them. You just grit your teeth and get through it, and that sucks because I want a solution.

Kim often tells me that I’m a very logical person and I’ve finally stopped laughing at her. After spending a lot of my life hearing people tell me how illogical I am, it’s nice to see that the things I try to do to cope are actually pretty darn logical after all (even some of the unhelpful ones though obviously, there’s room for improvement). Searching for a new and somewhat terrifying diagnosis isn’t logical. MS is not logical. Part of me wants it to be that, not because I desire to be ill, but because I AM ill and I want an answer. Ten years of “it could be blah” is wearing on a girl and this could be an answer that makes a lot of things make sense. However, it is also terrifying. It means an entirely new playbook and some of the plays in that book are downright frightening. The thought that I’ve built my castle on though is that it either is or it is not; therefore, I keep going. Curling up in the corner in fear won’t change it and if these new symptoms are going to become part of the “normal fuckery”, then there’s nothing to do but learn how to handle them. It just takes time and patience and a lot of grace, and a whole lot of being willing to ask for help. To top all of it off, the neuro I was sent to has basically done everything wrong in terms of helping me sort this out, up to and including CANCELLING the spinal MRI that was on the calendar because they decided they wanted it done somewhere else and failing to call me and telling me that they cancelled it. Needless to say, I need a neuro. At the same time, it also means that some of the things I was expecting to have going into this trip I just don’t have. I don’t have the reassurance of the image of my spine to see what is or is not there. It just couldn’t happen. So, it became one more place that this trip had stressful parts.

Planning was another area that things had to change. So often, I tend to put everyone’s needs ahead of mine during trip scheduling. I try to make sure that everyone gets at least some time and I try to make sure that Rin gets to do the things that she wants to do and that Kero gets to do most of what she wants to do and if there’s time at the end, I do some things I want to do. (Which, for clarity, does not mean that I do not want to do the same things that they do. What it does mean is that while I DO enjoy those things, I also don’t tend to schedule trips/visits that are more for me than for anyone else. It means I make sure that I try to please everyone else without taking time to sort in what I -need- in the middle of it all.) I knew from the start of conversations about “impending GA trip” that I couldn’t do that this time. I couldn’t be the one to make the decisions about who we saw when, when we went where, and how to put it all together. I told Rin and I half begged her to be in charge of the calendar. She’s very magnanimous and simply told people that it was a joint decision, but since I’m already spilling my guts in a vulnerability storm here, I’ll admit that I begged her to do it and to not make me do it unless she absolutely had to.

That change has been amazing. It means that I’ve been able to help plan without worrying about this person’s feelings or that person’s feelings or this person’s schedule or that person’s schedule and could instead focus on the actual goals of the trip. Stepping back from it also gave me the space to say, “There are a couple of things that we’ve put off the last couple of trips and I’d really like to not do that this time, even if it means upsetting someone else.” At least one of those things is on the calendar and the family whose house we are visiting because of that request honestly has NO idea just how over the moon excited I am about that part of the trip; in fact, that visit has been one that I’ve been able to hold onto at the worst moments of “omgicannotdothiswhyamieventryingtodothisicannoticannoticannot”. It has basically taken a ton of responsibility off of my shoulders and has let me be part of the process without being in charge of it and that is amazing. It was also a somewhat risky decision.

Despite eight and a half years together, there are times that people like to discount the relationship that Rin and I have and her role in both my life and in Kerowyn’s life. I weighed the risks and found the benefits far greater. After all, a key part of that sentence is “eight and a half years”. If someone hasn’t come to the conclusion that Rin is my partner and Kero’s second mother, then they likely aren’t going to magically do so now; therefore, the best course of action was not what was good for everyone else, but what was good for us as a family. In fact, many decisions about this trip were made with that exact discussion. Something Kim frequently reminds me of is that I’m not responsible for how anyone else feels or thinks; I can’t make them think a certain way. I CAN present information and give them room to make a choice, but I cannot make them make a choice. The only person whose choices I have complete control over is me and I have to make decisions that I can live with later. Thus, a second layer of decision making for this trip came with conversations about, “what choice will you be able to live with an hour later, a week later, a month later?” It is a question that has come up several times and is one that stays with me because it is important. I can only make decisions for me and I need to be able to look at myself in the mirror at the end of the day.

Does it suck to upset other people? Oh sweet gods, yes.

Do I hate upsetting other people? More than you could possibly realize.

Am I growing up enough to understand that I can’t please everyone, no matter how hard I try? Yeah, I finally am.

I’m basically writing this all as a giant torrent of words as opposed to the organized thing I’d been considering writing before. I even wrote an outline for that complete with a timeline about when meds were wonky and what other things were going on, but every time I tried to write that, I failed. I think, perhaps, I just need to keep going with the giant torrent of words and hope that people will care enough to follow my rambling brain all the way to the end. (With a secondary hope that after I finish this monster post I started an hour ago, I’ll be able to focus more on other things.)

Everybody changes. It is a simple fact of life. Some people change for the better, some for the worse, and frankly, everyone’s opinion about which is which can vary. I’ve been doing a lot of changing in the last few years, but especially in the last few months. In some ways, it is making me a much better me. I’m becoming more forgiving of myself and my flaws, of the “weakness” that I constantly feel because I can’t just “pull myself up by my bootstraps” or “use more self-discipline” to solve my problems. I’ve become better at acknowledging that everyone has feelings, lots and lots of feelings, and that the real difference is simply in how a person lets those feelings work in their life. I’ve always been an emotional person and empathic sometimes beyond desirability; I’ve also spent a large chunk of my life trying to fix everyone else because I thought it made -me- a better person. The reality is that while helping other people is admirable, you can’t fix someone else – they have to do that themselves. Also? At some point, you have to stop trying to fix everyone else and make sure you’re taking care of yourself. Self-care is not my strong suit, but it is something that I am HAVING to become better at because if MS is what I have (and realistically, even just for the diagnoses I already have), I need to practice self-care all the time, not just when it is convenient, even if my need for self-care makes someone else unhappy.

I’m learning how to make boundaries, both for myself and outside of myself. I’m learning how to come to the point that I can see that doing thing in small bits, while annoying, is better long term than simply throwing myself into things. I’m learning to see that if reading an upsetting article or ten is a problem for me on a certain day, I can and need to walk away from them. The world will still have problems whether I read the article or not. I’m learning to say “no.” This one is hard because as people, we don’t want to make others unhappy, and yet, sometimes, ya have to say, “No, I’m sorry, I can’t do that.” Oh man do I have a battle with this one. It’s why a lot of times I depend on Rin to be my second back-up, to be able to say, “No, you’ve done enough” and to also help me realize what I have accomplished when my brain says, “That’s not enough, you need to do more.”

I’m learning to love myself. The real me. The one I live with every day, as opposed to the idea of me that other people want me to be. This is also hard. Gods, is it hard. “Who am I?” is a question I ask often, but the difference is that of late, the question has an answer more often than it doesn’t. Mindfulness therapy is helping me find the things that are important to me and showing me how to make those the things I build my mental and emotional image on instead of building it on some concept of expectation. I can look at my non-traditional family and I have no shame, because there is nothing shameful to be found. There are three consenting adults in this house who keep their private lives private just as most adults do in houses with kids. There is a healthy almost twelve year old who has two moms who love her to pieces and who are doing everything in their power to grow her into a well-rounded person while embracing all of the things that she loves and nurturing those things, offering guidance when she needs it, and who will, hopefully one day, finally convince her to wash dishes correctly. *headdesk* Does my family resemble what some people call traditional? Nah. Am I okay with that? Oh yeah. Why? Because it works for us.

I have more support from my partner in this relationship than I have ever had in any of my “traditional” relationships. Ever. And while I will be the first to tell you that I never thought I’d fall in love with a girl (cause, face it, boys are nice), it doesn’t change the validity nor the strength of love I have for the woman who is both best friend and partner. I also can’t think of anyone else who would be helping me do as good a job raising my kid than Rin does, and Kero tends to be priority number one for me. I also know that a lot of times, I let people brush over our relationship as “less important” for its non-traditional status and I’ve realized how much that has hurt me and my family. Kero, if you ask her what she thinks about having two moms, will tell you that she loves it and has no desire to change it. She oft wonders why anyone would have a problem with it because it doesn’t make sense to her. Don’t believe me? Ask her about it sometime and she’ll tell you she’s happy. Know how I now? Because we talk to her about it and we ask her how she thinks and feels because that’s important.

I understand that there are people who don’t agree with non-traditional relationships and I firmly believe they have the right to that belief. What I do not believe is that their belief has the right to impinge on the validity of my relationship, my expectations for how my partner should be treated, or how I personally feel about my relationship. Everyone has a right to their beliefs, but those rights should stop when they begin to impinge on someone else’s. For the most part, this isn’t a huge issue, but given that it is something that I’ve become more solid on in the last few months, finally not listening to the voices that say, “you’re wrong” and instead listening to the evidence in front of me that says that my family is pretty damn awesome and I’m quite happy even with all of the health chaos, I feel it is worth nothing. Rin is my partner and as such is involved in decisions I make. Period. Rin is Kero’s second parent and is involved in decisions that Kero is a part of. Period. There are no exceptions for this, nor should there be.

Something else that I’ve come to understand about myself is that I’m broken…and I’m okay with that. Glennon at Momastery talks about how brokenness is actually something to cherish because it means living without trying to be perfect and it means accepting all of the pieces of yourself and inside those pieces finding what you can use to make the world a better place. I still struggle with this one sometimes, but most of the time a simple re-direct from Rin helps to ease me back toward my belief that broken is not equal to bad. Sometimes, it takes more than a gentle reminder and she points out how pots are repaired in Japan with gold to show the cracks and how they add to the worth and value of the piece, even when they change it from its original state. Broken is not equal to bad and broken can even be sacred. I’m not going to find a magic cure for ADD or for anxiety or for fibro/CFS or for MS if that is what the eventual diagnosis is. Those are all parts of who I am. I could spend time fighting against them, hoping that they will magically get better, or I can be a realist and understand that this is the way things are and work within those parameters. But to choose to work within those parameters means acknowledging each of those things and making allowances for them, even when they are annoying. It means stepping back and realizing that barreling through something won’t make things better in the long run even if they help in the short term and thus deciding which choices are best at x time. It also means living with the understanding that, now more than even early on in all of this chronic illness bull shit, it changes from day to day and sometimes hour to hour. Right now, I go from “okay” to “oh fuck me now” very quickly. (One example, I’m not tolerating heat at the moment hardly at all. I start to get hot and I have to try to fix it quickly or else it becomes overwhelming and nauseating.) When your body constantly makes you live by the seat of your pants, you have the choice to dance with it or fight upstream against it. Since bouts of fighting upstream haven’t worked so well, and since between some of the writers who have spoken to my soul of late and Kim and especially Rin in her quiet vigilance have helped me to see that I DO have the strength to do more than just swim along, I figure it’s time to change my dancing shoes.

Do I still get frustrated? Oh sweet baby Jesus, yes. Constantly. But instead of letting that frustration eat away at me, I acknowledge it as a thing and then try to move forward. Sometimes, just saying, “okay, I see you” is enough. Sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes I want to throw a full body fucking stompy fit that puts the biggest diva three year old to shame. That’s just part of the dance, I think. So, even on the path toward more enlightened thinking, I still stumble and still need reminders.

Do I fail? Hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahhhahahahahahahahahahahahhahah

*coughs*

Um, yes. I fail. Sometimes every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. But instead of letting that failure define the rest of the day, I try to only let it define the moments surrounding it. This is another lesson I’ve learned from Glennon (and in case you haven’t figured it out yet, you should totally read Glennon at Momastery because she basically speaks my language so, so much and so many times she writes things that leave me saying, “Omg, yes, I could write that same thing” and while our past backgrounds are much different, the way she thinks about things now is so, so helpful to me some days and yes, she is awesome and you should read her). Anyway, she wrote a post called Don’t Carpe Diem and it sings my language. Instead of trying to seize every moment of every day and make it “good” (whatever the fuck good actually means), she instead encourages people to seize the moments inside the day that help you find peace. For her, it is seizing kairos, or “God’s time” which is basically the time outside of chronus where God shows you He exists. Since my definition of God is a bit broad, I tend to insert “Creator” and move on because it works for me. The goal is basically to stop expecting yourself to make every moment magical because no one can successfully keep up with that and striving to do so just sets you up for failure.

This is an area that Rin and I both have been working on because both of us have had the bad habit of letting one bad thing ruin an entire day, even when that thing was disproportionate to the rest of the day. We were cutting each other to pieces doing this and finally have started to manage not to do so. We’ve managed to work on being able to take things as they come and accepting that shit happens and then moving on. It doesn’t always work, but I can tell you it has dramatically cut down on the number of hurt feelings about one or the other of us inadvertently crushing a day for the other. It also helps keep me sane. Not expecting myself to be perfect and happy and good every single moment has been a huge life saver. It’s been part of accepting feelings as they come and learning how to properly react to them (and “properly” here means “for me” as opposed to necessarily what works for someone else). Carpe Kairos is one of my snippet mottos (I have a list; I’ll share them with you!) that helps me get through days and stressful moments.

Basically, what I’m trying to say is that I’m not the same person I was six months ago, a year ago, ten years ago, twenty years ago. I’ve changed. I am still so very flawed because who is not, but I am working on those flaws and working to have less of them. I’m also working on becoming better at admitting when I’m wrong and being able to apologize and move forward instead of sticking to the unhelpful “but I want to be right” mentality that got me in trouble a lot as a teenager. I’m trying. I’m imperfect and broken and I am sick and there is no denying any of that nor is there really any changing it. I do the best that I can and right now, I am so gods darned fragile that it scares the hell out of me. No, seriously, it does. I want to be “strong” and yet, I really don’t, because the definition that I have of “strong” for myself is flawed. So I’m learning that in being weak, vulnerable, and broken, there is strength. In acknowledging that I can’t do everything, there is strength. In being able to sit and write this out, to admit that I am walking into this trip more vulnerable than I have ever been, there is strength. Inside that admission is a request for gentleness and compassion (but note it is not asking to excuse poor behavior, because if I’m being a whiny punk, I don’t want someone to accept that because #vulnerable) and the understanding that I am trying, some days so hard that I can’t even put the trial into words. Some days, Rin cheers me on when I make it from bed, to the bathroom, to the living room, because some days I need even those absurd baby steps praised. There is also peace in all of this, peace that I’ve not had about this trip since we started talking about it. For the first time in the last two weeks, I’m not dreading leaving the state. (And I don’t want people to read this and think that I didn’t want to see them, because it is pretty much the opposite of that. It’s just that people are hard and feelings are hard and it is totally possible to want to see someone and wish that you could do it from four states away to protect your fragile heart, is what I’m saying.) I am broken and vulnerable and oh, so scared right now. There are so many unanswered questions in the balance and there are still many miles to go before most of those questions are answered. I’ll answer questions that I can, but I ask that you not become upset if I say, “Not right now” or if I direct you to Rin and let her do the explaining (especially since I know for some of you, the potential for me having MS has been a brief note in the middle of two giant notes, one from Rin and this one from me, so I suspect that there are questions). One, she has a short version down that is easier to deal with than me trying to fumble in my brain and two, some days, I just can’t. It’s that simple. I just can’t.

As I begin to run out of steam, I’m starting to wonder if all of this sounds negative and I truly, truly hope that’s not how it’s come across. I can’t begin to tell you how positive some of these changes are, for me and everyone around me. They are helping me to understand more about people and myself. They are helping me to learn to live with who I am not who the world thinks I should be (and in this case, the world includes young me who had dreams that didn’t involve a chronic illness), because that’s the me I get to be. Being more mindful is making me less quick to snark, to judge, and to automatically assume the worst of someone because there aren’t as many negative thoughts running around my own brain to cloud my vision. (Which is not to say that I’m never snarky for anyone who was worried about -that- possibility; it means I am snarky without necessarily being mean and there is a difference.) I am becoming more able to exist in my spoonie skin without constantly being angry at its failings and even when I do become angry with my body, I am able to acknowledge that anger and then find a way to turn it into something productive. You’d be AMAZED at the difference that simply acknowledging emotions that can have “negative” connotations can be for me. It also is involving me learning how to judge myself less (because, face it, I’ve been my worst critic since I was a kid and that’s not necessarily the best thing) and to forgive myself more. This is the one area that I still have a lot of trouble, but thankfully, people help me to remember to forgive myself, too. So, all of this is good, but it is also so utterly terrifying that sometimes it leaves me breathless. To be open and vulnerable requires an entirely new level of courage on my part and even now, I’m becoming pensive about hitting the “publish post” button…and yet, I know I will (at least after Rin reads this for major typos/issues) and I’ll likely even go so far as to tag people in it on facebook just as a “please read this and see the me that is here and not the me I used to be”.

Also, if you made it this far, bless you. I can’t imagine it was easy and gods know it is long as heck. And since it is long, there’s one more thing I’m going to leave (and honestly, it’s just a testament to how stream of thought this has been that it isn’t peppered with more links because there are several things that highlight some of these points so much that I want to share, but I’ll keep it to one more and not be overwhelming) a video here that I watched from another writer who is quickly becoming one of my go-to “go to church” writers, joining Glennon and Jenny. This particular video is by Brene Brown talking about Listening to Shame. I started watching it one day, curious because I’d seen several folks speak highly of her. I had to stop the video about two minutes in to start taking notes for myself because it moved me that much. It is likely because of Brene that I’m actually able to put all of this out there without a panic attack and for that, it is worth sharing.

Love Wins.

We can do hard things.

#omgthisisscary

[This entry is transcribed from my handwritten journal. As a general warning, I am even more scattered and occasionally more circular when I write by hand than I am when I type. This entry is quite long and honestly, it could possible be two entries. I might come back and edit it that way later, but right now I am just trying to get it all typed up so that I don’t keep procrastinating doing so. It was written at about 4:30 am on 22 October 2013.]

 

Given all the recent changes and goings-on, it seems only fitting to (finally) starting using this new journal. [My Thor journal that Rin bought me. ^_^] Granted, I should be asleep. It’s 4:30 in the morning and I have to be up at 8 to get ready for my first appointment with the therapist at Healthlinc. I had (somewhat amazingly) managed to forget about it until yesterday afternoon. I managed to stay fairly distracted (largely by ghost hunting in the Sims Free Play) most of the evening, but these types of things always have a way of creeping up on me when I lay down no matter how tired I am. I read for awhile, a silly romance novel (The Inconvenient Duchess), that at least managed to be distracting until I finished it. Then, of course, it was almost 4:30 and I was clearly still awake. I slipped out of bed to see if Rin was possibly still awake, but it seems I’m the only one awake at this point. On one hand, that’s good, because she was exhausted and needed sleep. On the other, it meant I was left alone with my own brain which isn’t always my favorite state of affairs. Instead of starting a second book, I decided that perhaps I should take my own advice and face off with myself. So now I’m scribbling furiously in an effort to keep up with my own mental babbling by the booklight in my Kindle cover in an attempt to not disturb anyone else. It seems both slightly poetic and maybe silly since I could just go sit on the couch. But whatever. Here I am.

Yesterday was frustrating. There were some communication issues that threatened to turn into a huge fight. I suppose, since I’m peering into my own brain, some of those issues stemmed from my own insecurities. The largest culprit yesterday was “not wanting to be a burden” coupled with a bit of expectation of a certain thing without having made those needs known. On the face of it, it was all fairly minor, and I just was frustrated and irritated. Beneath it, I felt both angry with myself for feeling so needy and frustrated that she didn’t read my mind. There were things both of us could have done better and hopefully in the future we will; however, I try not to talk too much about specific disagreements online (yes, I was handwriting this with the knowledge that it would eventually make it online) because it isn’t everyone’s business. With that in mind, I do think I need to examine some of my own reactions.

When I realized I was both upset and becoming frustrated, I should have reached out and let her know. I stopped myself both because I wanted her to somehow realize I needed her and also because I didn’t want to bother her for anxiety reasons again. Right now, this seems plain as can be, but it wasn’t so clear then. I’m getting better at recognizing anxiety and stress for what they are, but it is still a work in progress. I missed some of the mental hints and instead let myself get a little broody. By the time I did reach out, I was more than a little cranky. When she got home, while I tried to talk to her about why I was frustrated calmly, I suspect more of the other crept in than I wanted to admit at the time. I didn’t have the worst possible reaction, but in hindsight, I realize I could have chosen if not a better way to handle it, then a better time to handle it. Trying to discuss something only a few minutes after someone gets home rarely goes well. It just sort of came out when she asked if I was okay. So, hopefully next time, I’ll at least manage better timing. Things did settle back down and she worked on making dinner. She was trying something new with veggie soup and it ended up taking longer than she was expecting. That meant she spent most of the evening in the kitchen…which to be honest was unexpected on my part and also a bit frustrating. I finally realized I was just playing games for something to do and maybe reading for a bit and trying to sleep was a better course of action. I went to tell her and she got upset with me. I’m still a little confused as to why. I know part of it was because we didn’t have any of our usual evening downtime, but she had been working in the kitchen and I had no clue she could have stopped for a bit. While we were discussing it, she expressed some frustration that food didn’t seem to be a “making me feel better” thing since I went GF. I thought about it for a minute and realized that on some level, I had been working to make that separation in my head since I was already making large changes. Most of the weight I’ve put on in the last 2 years has been from stress eating, it that is really not healthy physically or mentally. We talked a little more, but I wasn’t managing to put my thoughts into words. I suspect this was a part of what was keeping me awake because cooking is something she does to make people feel good. She likes when her food makes people happy and when she finds things they love. With that in mind, and me realizing the mental changes I was unconsciously making, there was a bit of a disconnect and I could tell she was upset but couldn’t assuage that upset.

First, the obvious. You have no idea how much I love when you cook for me, even if it seems basic and easy. Cooking comes easily for you whereas for me, it’s a struggle. I don’t enjoy it, so when I do cook, it’s a necessity thing not a because I want to thing. You’ve introduced me to more foods than I can count, and on your watch, I’ve come to love asparagus, zucchini, parsnips, and even new cheeses, all because you take the time to make them. When you bring home asparagus it is sometimes more exciting to me than chocolate, and if anyone had ever hinted I’d write a sentence like that, I’d tell them they were crazy. Over the last few weeks, things have been stressful and I was having to watch what I ate even before I went GF because of my gallbladder, so you’ve had a challenge on your hands. The veggie soups you’ve been making have been getting me through a lot of the days where I felt like there was a way between my body, my brain, and food. I keep waiting for you to groan and beg me not to ask for it again because you and K are tired of it, but that hasn’t happened yet. So, even though it was taking awhile and wasn’t done when you wanted, I was still excited for soup. I’ve also been tired, out of sorts, and stressed, so it likely didn’t show as much. It hadn’t crossed my mind that there would be tasty soup when we got home from the doctor tomorrow because my brain keeps getting stuck somewhere around the doctor’s office. When you explained that after I admonished you for doing too much when you were tired and in pain, I both felt bad and felt all floaty hearted at the same time. So, see, your food is a comfort thing and a happy making thing even as I try to divorce some of the food = comfort pathways. It really is two separate things. I’m trying to stop the pathway that says, “Food will make you less stressed and will make things better” because it is not true. It might -temporarily- make things better but it won’t fix things and in the long run it makes things worse. In some ways, this is already and will continue to make me love the things you make even more because it is tasty and healthier than most of the junk I was craving before. I know some of the GF things have you a bit scared or maybe nervous is a better word because it is new territory for you and there’s more trial and error involved; however, I gleefully look forward to being your guinea pig because I know you’ll make awesome things and then all of our friends will be jealous they can’t steal you.

So, while I’m working on my mental relationship with food, it won’t diminish the love and comfort I receive from what you make for me because the two aren’t wholly connected. And if more of what I ask for you to make is mega-veggie soup instead of cookies or a cake, that won’t entirely be a bad thing. Your food makes me happy, love, and not in the dysfunctional “food will solve everything” way but in the “Holy shit this woman cares so much about me she spends six hours in the kitchen cooking for me and that is both mind-boggling and amazing” way. I hope that eases your worry better than I was managing last night.

There’s one nagging issue down, so what are the others? Well that is a bit more complicated to sort, but I know it revolves around the appointment that is in *looks at clock* four hours. *sigh* Some of it is general fear of an unknown. I’m glad I met Tom at my other appointment, but it was brief and I don’t really know what to expect. I’ve not done the counselor thing since college and while I know it can be a good thing, I’ve not had it on my to-do list. See, I have a lot of trust issues both with counselors and in general. I don’t just open up to anyone these days (doubly true after the last couple of years), so the idea of having to is daunting, almost too daunting.

The reason I’m going is because my need for my ADD meds is stronger than my fear of the counselor. Of course, I have to figure out how to communicate that without coming across as drug-seeking (in the negative way of “person who is addicted,” etc.). The honest truth is that I’ve been out of them for almost a year and I’d really like to use my brain more productively again. I miss the way [med name] makes me better able to handle my thoughts and makes me more productive. I like how it makes me better able to handle the fatigue and mental fog that my chronic illness causes. I miss the organization I used to be able to apply to my thoughts and my personal chaos field. The reality is that not only was I more productive and easier to talk to on my meds, but I dealt with less anxiety, too. To some, that might seem odd since ADD meds can cause anxiety for some folks, but for me, it helps break up some of the anxiety loops I get stuck in, and for the times it doesn’t break up those loops, it helps me be better able to focus on my what I’m doing to distract myself from the anxiety.

I’ve learned how to knit while not on my meds (which has not always been easy), and I’ve gotten pretty good for a beginner. I’m proud of that fact. I also wonder how much better I would be if I could keep a pattern in my head for more than five minutes at a time. I combat that right now by writing out every stitch in every row instead of using repeats like patterns do, and it works, but it is a bit clunky. I’d like to see how I manage with my meds, in part because I think I could eventually make some extra money by making items to sell. I’m not thinking a huge enterprise, but I do think there are things I could make that people might want to buy.

I also need to start writing more. I’m managing a bit more than I was, but I also know that it was basically my ADD meds that got me through college. I’m slowly being talked into NaNoWriMo, and I can only imagine how much easier it would be with better focus. I also know if I can get back in the habit of writing, and I can build my confidence up, I should be able to start submitting things for publishing by the end of the year. Some of that will come from continuing the path of making me a better me, but I know for a fact from past history that this goal would be better reached with ADD meds.

I need to be able to articulate all of this in a couple of hours. I also need to be able to articulate how much I do not want to be on SSRIs or their kin. Those don’t make a better me – they make a zombie me. They also affect my writing. That was part of the reason I stopped taking them in college after the “circumstances that caused me to need meds weren’t changing and the band-aid they provided was making things worse not better every time I plateaued and had to increase my dose again” reason. It was becoming almost impossible to write anything let alone 2-3 academic papers a week. Trying another one of those because it might help with pain isn’t worth the risks to me, especially not since I am finally starting to work myself past some of the self-imposed writer’s blocks I put on myself. I need to be able to write and I can’t afford to lose that.

Besides that, as frustrating as anxiety can be and as frustrating as fluctuating emotions can be, I FAR prefer that to feeling nothing when I took those meds. In the past, I needed that numbing effect to help me deal with my life at the time. For the place I am at now, especially given how hard I have been working on creating better habits for dealing with anxiety and depression without letting them rule my thoughts, going back on those meds would be so counter-productive. I haven’t worked this hard on myself to lose that effort to things that numb me and leave me feeling less like myself.

When I first was diagnosed with fibro and CFS, it seemed like every doctor wanted to put me on an SSRI. I flat refused because it had only been a few months since I finally stopped feeling the lost/numbing effects of the last one I’d been on. I talked to one of my old family doctors about it at the time and explained my logic behind my refusal. He noted that (at least at the time) they had a 33% success rate for fibro, and given the reasons I had, he didn’t think it was the path for me. After that, every time I’ve seen a new doctor and they see I have depression in my health history, it is one of the first things they suggest. I had one rheumatologist examine me who had made her mind up before I ever walked in the door that I just needed an SSRI and I’d be fine. She ignored things I presented with like my purple fingers – a marker of Reynaud’s – and she kept ignoring how much pain her “simple” exam was causing my muscles and joints and noted that “everything was fine”. There’s not a single note of ANY of my distress upon her exam but a lot of notes of how I refused both an SSRI and Lyrica. The first I’ve already explained. The second was because that wasn’t terribly long after I’d had an allergic reaction to Gabitril which is in a similar family. Basically, because I had a history of depression in high school and early college, that was clearly my problem and I wasn’t worth her time.

Given how I feel about SSRIs and their ilk (and how poorly I did on tricyclics when I tried those at the beginning of this crazy ride of chronic illness), I don’t see them as the best option for me. In light of new research into fibro that suggests the illness comes from nerve problems in the hands and feet, I feel even more strongly against them. What I am willing to look at is something like Neurontin. I was prescribed it before but I didn’t take it because of being leery after Gabitril; however, now I’m willing to try again with medicine testing because it has been several years and my body seems to enjoy changing how it reacts to things from time to time. I might even be willing to try Lyrica, though I would rather it not be the first line of testing.

I feel a bit better now that I managed to sort some of this out. I tried a couple of times yesterday to no avail. Apparently a lack of sleep and a hastily ticking countdown to the appointment were good motivators. Every now and then, I wish my brain would cooperate a bit more normally, but then I remember that normal is only a setting on the washing machine; instead of wishing for something different, right now I’m just going to be grateful I got so much written down.

Of course, my alarm is going to go off in less than two hours and I might be a bit cranky, but I will strive to keep the sense of tired calm I have right now. The question is, do I try to take an hour and a half nap or do I just go curl up with RIn and read until it’s time to get ready? Also, do I let the therapist read the second half of this entry or do I just stick to trying to talk it out? Blerg. Not sure.

We can do hard things. Love wins. 

I have been pretty crappy in the writing department of late and I wonder if there isn’t one more lesson tied up in the large one I am currently learning from the universe. I suppose I should start from the beginning.

A couple of weeks ago, before I finally gave in and went to the doctor, I had a couple of days where it felt like angry, angry minions were crawling around my abdomen and back. I almost ended up in the emergency room with pain that was worse than labor. (A lot of women say this, let me clarify that I was in labor for 43 hours before I had a c-section so my “worse than labor” benchmark is pretty damn high.) It finally eased up and I got some sleep and then the next day Rin threatened to call everyone we know to tell them I was being a stubborn ass and refusing to go to the doctor and did I REALLY want that. No. No, I did not. So, I went to urgent care.

I had a sinus infection (which I knew) that OTCs weren’t kicking. I also had a kidney/bladder/UTI thing going on which I didn’t know about. (Yay for asymptomatic illnesses?) As a precaution, the CNP did decide to draw some blood (which they had to do twice because one of the vials clotted. Bwhee.) After two doses of antibiotics, I felt about 3000% times better and had no more abdominal pain and a lot of that ended up being chalked up to my kidneys. There were several reasons for that, including the fact that when Rin would rub my back during the worst of the previous episode, it would feel better and so…I floated along in a antibiotic daze and worked on recovering. After starting the Prednisone script that I was given to go with the antibiotics, I felt a WHOLE lot better and realized just how much inflammation my joints have been carrying lately. (The answer is a scary amount but more on that later.)

So, in a Prednisone fueled couple of days, I managed a neighborhood walk with Miss Ma’am and running errands without wanting to cry and it was good. And then I got a letter in the mail from the urgent care place that said they had been trying to contact me and they had information for me. I figured it was about my blood work results. Rin and I stopped by there after I had a massage with Natalie on Thursday and things were a bit odd from that point. The nurse kept acting like I had been ignoring her calls on purpose though I’d only received one voice mail and it wasn’t all that informative. However, my voice mail has been wonky since this summer, so, you know, I don’t know. (P.S. My VM has been wonky for a couple of months. As in, I just received a couple of VMs from JULY last week.) Then she was like, “Yeah, I’m going to get the doctor to talk to you about these results” and she left Rin and I in a room with me starting to freak out a bit. By the time the other nurse practitioner came in (a different one than I saw first), I was a bit wound and she made it so much worse. She basically was like, “You need a doctor” and she made me sound like a horrible person because I am a) sick, b) uninsured, and c) do not have a job and/or money. She treated me like crap, scared the hell out of me because my liver enzymes were REALLY high, and she refused to tell me ANYTHING that could cause that kind of abnormal blood work. (Upon later reflection, I realized that I am glad that I have medical knowledge and know that if something is wrong with your liver, one thing you absolutely should not take is acetaminophen. I shudder to think about someone in the same situation with this woman without that type of knowledge.)

So, we left. I was angry and upset and scared to death and the more stressed I got, the more I started to realize I was getting some twinges in my side again. Not pain, per se, but twinges. So, I tried to distract myself and figure out what to do while I waited for a call back from the clinic about where I might be able to go get quick doctor care that I could afford. The CNP called back and said that they had called Healthlinc but they were about to close, so someone would call me the next day. So, it was a long, restless kind of night and I kept it all bottled in. Rin did chat with one of my adopted big brothers who is also a CNP to ask for information and advice and that did help bring some reassurance. He basically made her swear in blood over FB chat that we would watch for certain things like jaundice (which we already had been) and that if there was a HINT of them that we’d go to the ER.

Friday, I got a call that the clinic had called Healthlinc and they had made me an appointment for Saturday morning which was…a surprise. The last I’d heard, that particular clinic was booked three weeks out. (Another local clinic for low income patients that Rin called couldn’t see me until the end of November.) Needless to say, the increased urgency added some stress. To combat that, Rin and I tried to keep me occupied and not freaking out. We also spent five hours going over the medical records I have on hand and realized that Harbin Clinic is not the best at organized record keeping, that I am missing three years of information (coincidentally the three years RIGHT after I was first diagnosed with CFS/Fibro stuff), and that there are A LOT of errors in my file as well as things missing like ER reports. Bwhee. One more thing to figure out how to fix later. Our efforts let us compile a list of the times of past diagnoses and things like that and so we at least went into the office prepared with that. I figured if I was abruptly being thrown into a new office that I was going to do so properly or at least as properly as possible.

Saturday morning I was a bit of a wreck. I’ve had horrible experiences with doctors of late which is why it’s been over a year since I’ve seen one regularly and why I’ve been without my normal meds for about that long and I just…was not prepared to face a crisis and a new office at the same time. To Healthlinc’s credit, the nurse and nurse practitioner I saw Saturday were amazing. There were no recriminations about the amount of information I brought to them (in fact they were thankful that I had it and was sharing it). There were no recriminations about not having insurance/money/jobs/not taking care of myself/it’s all in your head nonsense. There was listening. There was talking. There was a lot of concern about my liver enzyme numbers.

Alisha was very helpful. She was also pretty insistent that I try going gluten free. She said that looking at all of my symptoms and diagnoses across the board she felt it was a good path to try. She said she could order the expensive test for it or I could just eliminate gluten and see what happens. It is a concept I have pondered off and on as I’ve done more research but it is a huge level of commitment and well, I love me some gluten. So I haven’t tried it. But she was earnest in her conversation about it and suggested that it was a good place to start and so, there was one dropped bomb for the day that basically meant an entire lifestyle change.

She also was insistent that I have my labs redrawn and have an abdominal ultrasound as soon as possible. Unfortunately, that does mean that a lot more of that is going to have to be paid out of pocket than might normally because the way Healthlinc normally works is that you have an intake appointment with the financial counselor to find out how much you can pay and where on the sliding scale you fall and THEN you see doctors. I’m doing it ass backwards and they don’t have an intake appointment until later this month. But, that will be okay both by careful budgeting and some help from Mom and Dad because Mom was insistent and I stopped being a proud “I Can Do All The Things” asshole and agreed to let her help. (Sorry, Mom.) On Monday, the nurse is going to call the ultrasound folks that Healthlinc works with and set that up and I will likely have the labs drawn Monday or Tuesday depending on when the US is and we’ll go from there. I also have another appointment scheduled with the doctor at Healthlinc on Wednesday to talk about All the Things. Progress is being made and it is a bit terrifying and world changing all at the same time.

I looked at Rin at one point in the office yesterday and I said, “I think the universe is trying to teach me a giant lesson in humility.” She didn’t immediately say anything (my suspicion is that she was waiting to see where, exactly, I was going with that thought), so I went on to explain why I felt that way. I’m going to break down in a bit more detail here, though.

First, there are things that I have been putting off because of pride and anxiety. The biggest one of those has been filing for Medicaid in Indiana. A lot of it has been leftover stress/anxiety from dealing with the bureaucratic red tape I dealt with in GA. Some of it has been that the stigma regarding people who need public assistance has gotten into my head so much more than I ever realized. I fall into the category of folks who is in a situation where things like food and housing are covered, but medical expenses start to fall way the hell outside of sane budgeting. We travel. Hell, we have a lot of access to electronics largely through T’s job. We do all the things that people talk about those damn poor people not being able to afford and I stressed myself out and let the voice of public opinion make me act in a ridiculous manner. I have since rectified that point of pride. In fact, I did that Thursday night after dealing with the nurse practitioner because part of the reason she made me feel so awful was because it is something that I have mentally been kicking my own ass over for awhile. So. The thing is filed and the die is cast and we’ll see where everything falls out.

Letting myself become so proud that I acted stupidly is something that I have some regrets about but this situation with my liver going rogue has made me come to the point that all of the built up arguments like, “We’re doing okay” and “we can manage” and “I can live on ibuprofen alone! (the biggest lie of them all)” and threw them all out the door and said, “Honey, you’re up shit creek, what are you going to do about it?” So, I grabbed the paddle, beat the hell out of the last shreds of pride I was holding on to and filed the application.

Second, there are a lot of other ways that I have let pride become the boss of me in the last couple of years. I retreated inside my own shell after some things went horribly wrong with some people that I genuinely cared about. And that reaction was okay for a time because I needed the space. But instead of eventually crawling my way back out, I built up the wall that said, “I don’t need no stinkin’ people” and kept building. I reach out sometimes and I’d poke my head around the wall. For many people, it probably didn’t look that different than normal. But I kept trying to protect myself from the world because it seemed like the thing to do at the time. In the last few months, in part with the help of some awesome writers like Glennon at Momastery and Jennie at The Bloggess, I’ve been trying to unwrap myself from the “people are bad” cocoon I’ve built. It hasn’t been easy. And reaching out to other people and crawling out of that hole means remembering what it is like to feel things for other people again and as G says, the world is a brutiful place full of beauty and pain. And my heart hurts, but I’ve been trying.

Right now, I’m sitting at a junction where I can continue to keep all this shit to myself and Rin and a few other folks or I can open the door and say, “Hi, I’m sometimes a crazy asshole who needs to be reminded that she isn’t a super hero and right now I’m terrified out of my brain and if you have a kind word or a hug to spare I’d totally appreciate it even though I don’t think I deserve it all that much.” And oh how there is an internal battle in my head about which option to choose, but in finally making myself sit down and write about this crap I think I know which option will win. At least I hope so. Though I suspect that since Rin knows I’ve been writing something she’ll likely just hack into my WordPress account and post it for me if I don’t so maybe I should save her some work.

If there is anything about the current government situation that I think acts as a lesson unto my own life it is that we all need each other when shit gets weird. We all have to learn how to stand together and find some common ground even when we vehemently disagree or there will be people who will capitalize on that fact. And…I need people and I need to stop being a hermit. And for those of you who have kept poking at me and making me interact with the rest of the world whether it is via insane FB messages, random texts, or even something as simple as a word game on the Internetz, you have a lot more gratitude than I have words for. Please don’t stop.

Third, having to embrace a gluten free diet offers an opportunity for some of the health changes that I have needed to make. I have needed to become more active, but I have let the fugue of “it hurts too much” and “it’s too hard” become my rallying cry. Now, I’m taking words from Glennon again and I am trying to change my rallying cry to “we can do hard things.” In fact, I told Rin that maybe what I need her to do for the next couple of weeks is to sharpie “We can do hard things” on one wrist and “love wins” on the other because I am probably going to need the reminders. I was half kidding last night when I said it, but the more that I think about it, the more I think it is actually a really good idea. Sometimes I need the visual reminder to beat the negative words in my head.

Because the first doctor I saw mentioned that if I was having problems with my gallbladder (which is what I thought the abdominal pain could be), he suggested a low fat diet to help. Because I’d already had several days where I couldn’t eat because I was too sick, Rin started introducing things slowly back into my diet. The result has been that the two weeks that I’ve been on antibiotics have seen a somewhat revolutionary diet change for me already. She cut out pretty much all of the processed crap with the exception of saltines and toast (since for the first couple of days that was what I was keeping down). She has been giving me a lot more fruits and veggies than I normally eat. And basically she’s been a freaking rock star taking care of me and making me awesome veggie soup with a little bit of chicken in it and things like that. Seriously, her veggie soup is amazeballs and you should ask her to make it for you. What I’ve noticed is that I haven’t been craving as much of the junk that I usually do, and in fact when she and I were driving through town last week a lot of the fast food places that I look at as comfort food just sounded gross to me. Sure, there are things that I want (fried shrimp omg), but on the whole, a lot of the stuff that I haven’t been eating the last couple of weeks is stuff I didn’t really need anyway.

Those changes have also been enough to give me a small ledge to stand on as I face this new change. Because I know that I CAN do it, but being able and being willing are two entirely different things. However, as I said, the universe is teaching me a lesson in humility and has offered an opportunity for change. I can accept it and see what happens or I can keep living with my head under a rock and doing things the old way because that’s the way I’ve always done it. And thereby I get caught in my own trap because I HATEHATEHATE the rationale “but this is the way we’ve ALWAYS done it so we have to keep doing it that way” with a fiery passion. I have to accept the fact that things need to change. In the last two years, I’ve kind of let food become the source of comfort that I needed and I put on a lot of weight that my effed up joints don’t need to carry. Now, I have to relearn how to eat again and that’s going to take making some changes. Thankfully, I don’t have to do it alone. Rin has, pretty much from the get-go, been thinking about ways to make some of my favorite things without gluten and she’s come up with some pretty awesome ideas. She is most worried about being able to bake me things because that is her passion, but I reminded her that we know a lot of people who know how to deal with gluten free baking and that is helping bolster her courage, too. Things have to change and I have to be the one to make the decision to let the change happen. So, baby steps. Tomorrow, I say goodbye to gluten and it will be hard. Oh, it will be hard. But it is doable and I can do this.

If you’ve read this far, you might be wondering what I need at this point. Well, the answer to that is simple. Encouragement, for one. I am scared that my liver has decided to go rogue and well, with my health history, you never know what could be causing that. It could be something as simple my gallbladder giving up the ghost or it could be something else and I don’t do well with uncertainty. Mystery is not my favorite genre after all. 😀 So, encouragement is good. Beyond that, I am likely going to be a raging bear for the next couple of weeks because from everything I’ve heard, quitting gluten can be mood swing inducing and at the same time that I am giving up gluten I will also be detoxing from Prednisone, so encouragement not just for me but for Rin and K as well is good. I told Mom last night on the phone that nobody is going to love me this week and she said, “No, they’ll still love you, they just might not want to be around you.” You know what, fair enough. On that point, she is definitely right because gods know many of ya’ll have seen me at my awfulest and you still hang around so there is that. Also, I apologize in advance if I whine a lot on Facebook. I may whine there to avoid doing so out loud to the people who have to live with me.

Oh and finally, encourage me to write. Feel free to send me texts and emails. But I think that one way to help combat some of this stuff in my head is going to be writing it down. Logically I know this, but I have kind of screwed myself in the writing department the last few years with mixed messages of “it is helpful” vs “it is utter rubbish and who the fuck do I think I am writing anything” and I need some help dragging myself out of this hole, too. This one is a bit harder because sometimes the reminder makes me belligerent. I still need the reminders and the encouragement. Hell, at bare minimum I have a built in well of new topics to talk about because I’m sure that adapting to a gluten free lifestyle is going to make for some fascinating times for me. But knowing that and remembering to put hands to keyboard doesn’t always work. So, please, if you’re of a mind to so, drop me a note once in a while to suggest you’d like to hear what’s going on. It will help more than you realize.

We can do hard things. (The we is important to me because I know I can’t do this alone.) Love wins.

It is late at night that I find myself either battling demons or hiding from them. The voices of “you’re not good enough” and “you’re not doing enough” seem to dwell somewhere between sunset and sunrise which is, to me, a bit ironic, since the night tends to be when I am at my prime. I suppose that tonight part of the battle is that I spent hours struggling with resume writing, trying to get it just so, trying to put abstract things into concrete words and having an intimate awareness that it is likely not quite good enough for what I want. I have spent a bit more time seeking out other opportunities and wondering just how I am going to make it in this crazy world. Sure, there are the obvious answers, but there has to be something more. Struggling to get by is unpleasant at best and downright depressing at its core, and yet finding my way to that mythical “making something better of myself” place that grown-ups are supposed to find seems to be filled with setbacks and quiet, personal failures that are determined to quash every step of progress I may or may not have made.

I am good at crushing myself. I have a lot of practice. I have had a lot of help with it over the years and I have perfected the art until it is almost second nature to shoot myself down long before I reach the point of selling myself. Resume writing requires a person to reach the opposite of self-crushing and instead, strive for self-selling and I suck at it. Sure, logically, there are things that I know I do well, but I do not always know how to quantify them into black and white. (And the tawdry part of my sense of humor suggests that some things are better left off a resume to which I will simply sigh and move right along.) I can, in theory, put my abilities into words, but when I start to look at it on paper, it looks like so little. Any real experience I have is piece-meal at best. I am very good at a lot of things but have no real defining situations where those skills are clear. I have been using computers regularly since I was fifteen. I am proficient in multiple versions of Microsoft Office. I need to learn more Excel and likely several other spreadsheet programs. I can type quickly and accurately and I am damn good at taking notes. I am a professional at taking notes. Hell, it’d be kind of fun to get paid to go take notes for people in their college classes but I’m pretty sure that would verge on unethical. But…I’d be fucking good at it. I am fantastic at interpersonal skills and more often than not can manage to diffuse stressful situations easily. I have not worked professionally at the university level but gods know that I have a lot of work at learning how to manage the university system. I like to talk to people. I like to help people. I like to see people achieve the things they want to achieve. I am good at helping kids though I don’t want to teach at the K-12 level because I despise the way the politics play out in that arena. I also despise the current fetish for standardized testing because I believe that at the end of the day we are teaching our children next to nothing for the sake of numbers that will get them nowhere when they are adults. We are, in short, sending them to professional baby-sitters, throwing darts of information at them, and praying that some of them stick. I see it in my daughter and I work to ensure that she takes more than just the basic lessons from her school work and instead actually is able to use those things long after that lesson has passed. I like research. No, I love research and I need to get back into the habit of doing it. I need to start writing academically again, not just for professional work but because I need the mental challenge. I have had my brain on hold for too long and I need to kick-start myself back to using it for something more than a place to store information about Facebook games. (Don’t get me wrong, they have their place, but it is time to actually -do- something with that degree I am going to be paying for for years to come instead of simply writing witty Facebook status updates.)

I am veering a bit from the topic I started with but I suppose that, in itself, is normal, but the sentence above this one got me to thinking about the example that I have that pretty much backs that theory up. I have a Kindle. Granted, I only have a Kindle because Tadhg figured out that he liked the Kindle DX better than the Kindle 2 and also because he sold the Kindle 2 for way more than he was expecting which pretty much let him make a profit and still buy the Kindle 3. Ironically, I am only laying out the how because I don’t want my protestations of “I’m more broke than I have ever been” to be read alongside the sentence “I have a Kindle” so that people think that I spend money frivolously. I have been known to do so, but right now, I couldn’t have bought myself a Kindle if I had wanted. There’s just no money for it. So, yes, Tadhg bought the Kindle and is letting me use it but it’s much easier to say it’s mine. Hell, it’s linked to my account, so right now even the Kindle says it’s mine which is kind of neat, too. At any rate (aka sweet Jesus shut me up), I know that I need to be using my brain again because I have been almost voraciously reading since I got the Kindle in my hands. Sure, Dragon*Con got in the way of that a little bit, but for the past few days, I have been doing bits on Facebook and reading at the same time…and most of the time, it’s trailed off into just reading. What am I reading? The Scarlet Pimpernel which I have found to be surprisingly and delightfully engaging. I don’t think I’ve had this much fun with a book in awhile and I suspect a large part of that has been because no matter how much I love Anita Blake books (some of the last things I’ve read), hardcovers are heavy and they get really damned uncomfortable to hold after awhile. The Kindle moves around in my hand and I can prop it in various places and I don’t end up wanting to whimper from having to hold a book in my hand. It freaking rocks so much because I -miss- reading. I used to read all the time, then school kind of kept me from it and then I simply got out of the habit. But if I want to a) write well, b) teach my daughter the importance of reading, and c) not end up sounding less educated than a 3 year old, I have to read. It’s that simple.

Of course, sitting here writing this down is easy. Putting these things into practice is hard. Turning in the resume I turned in tonight was hard as all hell because I kept thinking “I’m not qualified enough for this job,” but another part of me was going, “Well, maybe I am not perfectly qualified for it, but I am mostly qualified for it and I could be very good at it, so I need to at least try.” It’s just frustrating because the “I can’t do it” monster is so damned strong. There have been so many obstacles in the way and I have let some of them eat away at other parts of me and at this point, I can’t always manage to say, “I can do it,” and actually mean it. I can try to fake it, but that only gets you so far. Job hunting, then, is its own learning curve. Learning to read again and learning to apply information again is its own learning curve. Reminding myself that my opinion does matter and that people actually give a flying frak what I have to say has a learning curve.

*sighs* I am supposed to be in bed. I need to be in bed. I am trying not to get anymore sick than I already am. I am trying not to have to go to urgent care because we can’t really afford it. Hell, I am trying to figure out how to handle the fact that I sat down with my doctor back in Georgia and got him to write some prescriptions based upon things like Target’s $4 and found out on Friday that they changed that list the same month. So, yeah, going in and finding out that after talking to him about a couple of things and getting him to write a new script for a new anti-inflammatory since Relafen is so dadgummed expensive only to find that said anti-inflammatory is no longer on the list and that it costs as much as Relafen is a bit disheartening and frustrating and angry-making and a lot of other things. I have to call the pharmacy tomorrow and see what information they found for me, but it looks like I may have to go to the third-string option which is slightly worrisome on its own. We shall see what happens…right now, I have no clue beyond I can hear Dory in my head going “just keep swimming, just keep swimming.”

*faint shrug* What will be, will be as frustrating as that cliched phrase is and there is not a lot I can do about it right now. What I can do is look back at the fact that I a) sat down and wrote something and b) turned in a resume tonight and say, “Hey, I did accomplish something after all.” And then tomorrow, I can do a little bit more. Granted some of that little bit more will likely include housework, but hey, it has to be done and I’m not doing much anything else right now. I think it also needs to include another resume being sent in and at least some basic hunting up of academic papers that need writing. After that? Who knows? But at this point, I am starting to repeat myself and not in a fun way, so I am going to wrap this up and attempt to go to bed. I think.

My Birthday and the Days Following
So, since last I left off, I had a birthday. I am now 29 for anyone curious. For a starter celebration on Friday, Rin made me cupcakes and we took them to the SCA work group that meets at a park. It was really kinda neat to hang out with new friends and talk about random things and just have fun. After that, a smaller group of us went to a Chinese restaurant where I was able to appease my lo mein craving and, in general, have a great time chatting with really cool people. The Baroness for this area is really fucking awesome and the more that I get to know her, the more that 1) I realize that she and I think a lot alike and 2) I really want to get to know her even more. Her husband is pretty awesome, too. The fact that they have a son a couple of years older than K is also pretty cool.

Heck, there are several really cool people in the group that I’ve had a great time just hanging out and talking to which is making me much less nervous about the whole SCA thing in general. I do know one thing, well, two things: one, K is super excited about it all and two, she’s gonna be pretty mad when she finds out that Rin and I had birthday cupcakes with the SCA. Woops. 😀

I actually had a really good day in spite of having slept through most of it. (Extra pain meds the night before due to the craptastic storm front that came through kind of helped with that.) We had dinner with Tadhg’s parents and his aunt, uncle, and cousin at Doc Pierce’s which was kind of neat looking. It’s an old style pub type place. The food was all right; I suspect that I would have enjoyed a couple of other things better; however, it was still pretty good.

After that, Rin and I lived the wild party life with a trip to Old Navy to check out their clearance and the kids’ polos followed by ice cream sundaes at McDonald’s. I know what you’re thinking: why the fuck did you go to McD’s for ice cream? Well, that’s simple: getting one of the dollar sundaes with caramel and hot fudge is pretty yummy and was just enough of a treat for after dinner. From there, we headed home and did a few things around here. Actually she did most of the things, and I played Lego Harry Potter on the DS. 😀

Sunday was a fairly low-key day which included a trip to Target (again to check polos) and ended up with a rain-check for girls’ polos, new laundry baskets, a new toilet seat, and a couple of other odds and ends. See how exciting we are?

Today has perhaps been the busier day thus far. We went to Hamilton Traditional School hoping to find out if we even had a snowball’s chance in hell of getting her in. The secretary was quite honest and said she was not certain and likely would not have an answer until the end of the week; however, she did say that she would call and let me know, even if it was just to say she wasn’t certain yet. The short version is that they do applications in the winter, and in March, when they made their decisions, all the slots were full (well obviously since that’s what they were doing); however, they sometimes make exceptions for students who move in from out of state depending on class size and other factors. So…the answer is maybe. Either way, she is not officially registered with SBSCS, so that’s one more thing done.

The next stop was lunch at Pizza Hut which was kind of a mistake. The lunch buffet was pretty terrible and they failed to tell us when we walked in at 1:23 that the buffet ended at 1:30 which meant that nothing was really replaced. The food also kind of made both of us feel like crap so, I don’t think we’ll be going back there. About the only thing I really managed to succeed at was giving myself a SPECTACULAR bruise on my hand when I was walking in the door. How cool is that?

In terms of writing things off the list of things to do, we also went to the Post Office so that I could fill out change of address forms for K and myself. It wasn’t a major thing on the list, but it was a fairly large step all the same that didn’t entirely catch up to me until we were in the middle of Meijer getting the things we needed for dinner. Yes, the moving prep has been “real” all along, but there were two rather large things done to make it more so this afternoon.

After the brief lots of that moment, I got dragged through the shoe section since Rin noticed that they had sneakers on clearance. I’ve been looking for a supportive pair of sneakers for over a year now. This endeavor is harder than you might think. For a start, I really don’t want white ones because they don’t match anything I wear normally. There are other reasons that I won’t go into, but it’s really not a preference. Have you ever gone athletic shoe shopping in the women’s section? MOST of the sneakers are white with pastels. It’s annoying.

That said, I put on my game face and actually tried on a couple of pairs because I really need more supportive shoes before working Celebration. In what is perhaps the best stroke of luck I’ve had in the shopping department lately, I actually found a pair that fit…and were comfortable. At first I was whining because “something felt weird under my arch” to which I was informed that was “the arch support, you know, that thing you need.” >_> Have I mentioned that I’m a stubborn pain in the ass? Yeah, I totally am. However, I have a cool new pair of sneakers that are comfortable and aren’t white so that’s something, eh?

On Family
In the middle of trying to finish up testing said sneakers, I checked my phone to find a voicemail from Mom asking about school clothes for K. Well, that’s still a bit up in the air since Hamilton uses uniforms. I called her back to chat and tell her that and…knew something wasn’t right from the get-go. She just sounded odd. *faint sigh* I wasn’t wrong. She is not handling the move thing very well at all. I’m somewhat frustrated because while I understand her upset and the feelings behind it, I don’t entirely understand the sense of “I’m losing you forever,” because it’s ridiculous. It is not like I am taking her grandchild to Siberia; it is not like we are dying. We’re moving across the country; people do it all the time. No, we won’t be just a couple of hours away. Yes, she’s going to have to go longer between visits. I know it will be hard. It will be hard for K. Hell, she doesn’t believe it, but it’s hard for me, too. I’m leaving everything I’ve ever known to chase what I want. Am I doing it the way she wants? No. Am I doing it the way most people do? Probably not. But I’m still doing it: I’m doing something to chase down what I want. I’m making certain that my daughter is being taken care of in the process. That should COUNT for something, and yet it doesn’t seem to. Add in the kerfluffle she is having with my little brother at the moment and you get a recipe for a lot of upset and crying.

I truly do understand the stress of the situation. I understand that she is upset and never really thought that I’d move so far away. I also know that I’m not doing this thing out of spite or out of some deep-seated desire to torment her from now til kingdom come. I know that she doesn’t understand this and doesn’t believe it when I say it. I know she thinks it’s the worst idea ever. I’m sorry she feels that way. I’m sorry she thinks I am trying to break her heart. *sighs* I’m sorry that I am frustrated that her continuing to be so upset and “I am losing you and K” at me is leaving me in tears at the grocery store, but it is.

I know that she’ll either grok it or she won’t. I just wish she weren’t hell bent on seeing it as the biggest mistake that I could possibly make or as some damned plot against her.

And that’s enough about that right now…

In the Coming Days
We have a crap ton of stuff to try to get done around here before we drive to Georgia. We were pondering leaving tomorrow night; however, odds are fair that it will more than likely be sometime Wednesday. We need to be there before Friday because Chris and Troy want to take Miss Ma’am and Mr. Monkey to Lake Winnepesaukah which means I really need to retrieve her before that. I know Rin and I have wanted to take them to Lake Winnie for awhile; however, I have no idea if we will be up for going or not. We’re going to have to wait and see.

Plans from when we get to Georgia and Tuesday are still a bit up in the air; however, we need to leave sometime Tuesday night to head to Orlando since there is going to be an Elite Squad meeting sometime Wednesday afternoon. I am actually getting excited about the convention in spite of my reservations and concerns about my ability as a face painter. In the end, we shall see what happens. My biggest wish is that I had a camera to take with us. I may have to see if Troy will entrust me with one of his. o_O Maybe. 😀 I’d hate to break one of his cameras.

We will be getting home likely sometime Monday evening, though I’m not exactly sure when we’ll leave Orlando, etc. I will likely Travel Post to FB like I do for the inter-state drives to let people know what’s going on and where we are and all that fun stuff.

Post Celebration, we will have a few more days in Georgia, but then it will be time to head back up here to start making certain that everything is ready for school to start for Rin and K. I hopefully will also have theoretically applied for the couple of jobs I am looking at and will have word on those. Beyond that? Who knows? *laughs* I’ve barely got a handle on the next three weeks, let alone what comes after.

A Little Bit of Whining
So, I’ve mentioned before that it is unlikely that we will be at D*C this year. At minimum, we are letting Chris and Troy have our room at the Hyatt because we know we cannot afford -that-. So, imagine my utter OHNOEZSOSADWHYYYYYYTHISYEAR response to the news that Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon are coming to Dragon*Con for the first time in ten years? Oh yeah. It was pretty epic. I am totally *RAWR* about this, because I know people who know her and Larry personally so the odds of being able to meet her would actually be pretty high. Rin has tossed out the idea of maybe (huge fucking maybe if you ask me) heading out Friday afternoon when K is out of school and driving down. The catch is that we would have to leave, for sure, on Monday to be back Tuesday morning in time for everyone to go to school. It wouldn’t leave a whole lot of time to do anything. Something that may actually lean that into more of a possibility would be the fact that it would give us one more car trip to bring stuff up in. I…am iffy on the idea. It is a really fast turn around and would involve a lot of stress in the execution; however, it would be good to see people and hang out at Con and maybe get to meet someone who created the character that I named my daughter after. *groans* Sometimes being a grown-up sucks!

Bringing the Train into the Station
So I’ve been typing this for awhile now and I am starting to bore myself. I actually have a couple of things that are handwritten that may or may not eventually make it into the backdated archives. Who knows? Sometimes I manage that and sometimes I don’t. *wry grin* That’s just how I roll.

Aside from boring myself, I also have things to do that don’t include rambling on about whatever else falls into my head. You know, like how I didn’t write about the fact that Rin made an amazing dinner of garlic chicken, pasta, and asparagus spears which was really freaking good and she worked hard to make it. 😀 But now I’ve mentioned that and yeah, I am TOTALLY rambling. Also, I think if I scroll back up and add one more thing to the damn list I may shoot myself. Or scream. Or something. So that, as they say, is that.

Well, with one minor addendum. I am contemplating sharing the link to this little writing project of mine with a few other people. If I do, “Hi new people.” If I don’t, well, I’m a chicken shit sometimes. 😀

If I actually knew the answer to that, I’d likely be a very rich woman. Life is full of the unexpected; if most of my life had not taught me that, the last seven months most assuredly would have. So many things have ended up going so far differently from what I expected, that I can’t always tell you what’s coming next. So many plans from this summer were changed around, that I even put a ban of making plans that were more than three days in advance. In some ways, this has helped my sanity seeing as how the month of June was one change in plans after another. In others, it has made a few other things a bit more tricky. On the whole, though, it seems like we’ve all muddled through somehow.

At some point, I’ll likely sit down and write about some of the things that have happened since January if for no other reason than to let people in. Apparently, I’ve done a far better job of keeping things quiet than I ever realized. *wry grin* It seems some habits die really slow deaths.

I suppose I should start with some of the basics like who I am and all that jazz…except answering that question seems to take longer and longer every day. The basic stats are thus: I am an almost-29 year old woman who is the very proud (and occasionally frazzled) mother of an amazing 8 year old daughter who I tend to refer to as “K” or “Miss Ma’am.” I am, at this moment, sitting in the living room of my future home which is located in South Bend, Indiana. It is the home of my best friend Rin and her husband Tadhg. I say “future home” because at the moment, K and I are in the process of relocating, a process that likely will not be complete until sometime in August.

For the past few weeks, we have also had Rin’s little brother (“F” or “Mr. Monkey”) here with us which has been both fun and occasionally brain-frazzling. Originally, he was going to be here for a week after Rin and I got some things organized here at the house. In one of those crazy turn-abouts back in June, we had to rearrange those plans because Rin’s mom (Chris) got sick and no one was entirely sure what was going on with her. She is doing better; however, recovery took a bit.

Having both munchkins has definitely been an experience. K and I have spent the last three summers with Rin and Tadhg, so we kind of have different little routines down. Adding F to the mix made for a few learning curves. Toss in the fact that I’ve spent most of the time we’ve been up here sick and you get a whole lot of fun…or something. Nah, we’ve actually had quite a blast. It was nice to be able to let F see where Rin and Tadhg live and where K is moving (particularly since K and I have been living with F since January). It was neat to take him to the different places that Miss Ma’am has talked about and we all had a good time at the 4-H Fair last week.

Unfortunately, between having both munchkins, my being sick, and trying to sort Rin’s work schedule, we’ve not gotten a whole lot done which has been frustrating for the grown-ups. On the flip side, we’re going to have a couple of weeks to get more things done…at least in theory. 😀

Tomorrow, I am braving the trip back to Georgia with K and F to make sure that they are both there for F’s birthday party on Saturday. (His actual birthday is Sunday.) After that, at least once I finish arranging plans with my Mom, K is going to spend a couple of weeks with her Gamma and Poppa and other family members. I am going to head back up here and hopefully work on some things. At the end of the month, when Rin finishes the summer school session she is working, we are both going to drive down to Georgia again and theoretically get some things done down there.

Also, theoretically at least, she and I are going to work at Star Wars Celebration in Orlando. Since our room is already paid for (thanks to a friend of hers) and since we actually get a small stipend for room and travel which will largely pay for gas and some of our food, not to mention the potential to earn a recommendation that says, “Hey you did x kinds of things for Lucasfilm,” it actually is looking like a feasible convention to go to. The other large convention of the year though? Yeah, that one is pretty much looking like a no-go. We sat down and did some of the math and since we nearly spend (with room and food and what have you) around $1800, it is looking as though Dragon*Con may be out this year. We’ve not made a final decision; however, the odds of us being able to go have greatly been reduced thanks to the bureaucratic foul ups that we’ve been dealing with in Georgia (i.e. mine & K’s insurance situation). *shrug* We’ll go again and we both know it. We’ll miss people and miss the events; however, we really can’t see how we can justify the expense with so many other things going on at the same time.

I’d love to think that this post was moving in a somehow linear fashion, but I know myself well enough to realize that it is hopping and skipping all over the place. Some of that is because I am tired and some of it is because I am keeping up with Tadhg’s conversation, too. 🙂 I think I had started out with a goal of some kind of list that said, “I will probably write about these types of things,” and have instead simply been downloading things from my over-tired brain that needs to go to bed but isn’t quite ready to do so.

So, what might I write about?

  • Real life (because it kind of gets in the way of everything else)
  • Game things (because FB also kind of gets in the way of everything else)
  • Unsent letters (because I write them A LOT, especially when I’m driving and it’s hard not to share some of them)

Types of things you can expect:

  • Profanity: I have a B.A. in English and “fuck” is still my favorite word in the English language. Anyone trying to tell me that swear words are only used by people who don’t have the vocabulary to say anything else will be mocked for their blatant ignorance. Like everything, I believe that there is a time and a place for swearing and gods know that in my journal/blog/place where I write shit, I can use it like I wish. You have been warned.
  • Child stories: My kid is so awesome that I don’t always have words to describe her. She continually amazes me, baffles me, frustrates me, and makes me a very proud Momma and I like to talk about her. A lot. I post the good and the bad and everything in between. My kid says awesome things and she’s not quite ready to blog herself so I feel it my duty to write some of these things down for her. Also? Blackmail.
  • Emoticons: I try not to; however, I find that every now and then I really cannot help myself. Some times you just need a 😛 or a 😀 or a ^_^ to get your point across. 😀
  • Sick talk: I have an uncategorized autoimmune disorder. My body regularly does not like me. Much like real life, it tends to crop up in conversation. Seeing as how the last few months have also seen a rise in symptoms (thank for making me sick of the sun, dear body, I do so appreciate it), I am likely going to be talking about this…a lot. I also would like to talk about important things like how to be sick and have a life at the same time.
  • SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism): I know almost nothing about it; however, I aim to learn about it. Rin has been involved in the group up here, and she is looking forward to getting K and I involved as well. We’ve been to a couple of the workshop nights and have had fun. Even more exciting than my own involvement is perhaps K’s excitement at learning how to be a fighter. She thinks it’s pretty damned cool and is really looking forward to it. I think that’s fucking awesome! She’s also been dressing her teeny beanie baby kittens up with Barbie clothes to try to make them be in the SCA. Yes, it really is as adorable as it sounds.
  • Talk of Snow: I am a Southern Girl moving to the Great White North. Trust me, if I manage to keep this up, you’re going to hear about it. A lot.
  • Random Fiction: I was invited over to WordPress with a reason and I can already see creating tales from some of Solle’s other Fairy Tale writings. (I’m pretty sure I hear Hansel’s reply somewhere in my head.) I also occasionally write other fiction bits just for the hell of it.
  • Random Bullshit: I do believe most people would call this “everything else;” however, I am -me- and I have to be unique, so everything else is “that random bullshit I didn’t cover in specific bullet points.”

I like to talk…a lot. Sometimes I actually manage to translate that out into writing. It’s a habit I am trying desperately to return to and I am hoping that gentle (and not so gentle) nudges in this direction will help. We shall see. What happens from here? Heck if I know. Well, not true, I do know. I have to go to bed soon so that I can be prepared to deal with all that tomorrow is likely to bring. After all, there are kids’ things to pack, my things to pack, a car to load…and probably a thousand things to do that I’ve not yet considered. I suspect that the drive will likely prompt at least some writing ideas, but who knows…I could just end up banging my head into the steering wheel. 😀