Ok, actually, this has nothing to do with sex. Or rock'n'roll. Just drugs.

First of all, funny story... I accidentally got drunk last night. I mean, I intended to get buzzed or something, but I didn't mean to get drunk. It's not like I was hanging out on my couch and all of a sudden I'm reeling.

Here's what happened: I worked today and yesterday at the "front desk" of a gun show here in town. It's more or less sit-down work, but it requires a lot of talking, and there is walking and moving and pointing involved. It gave me a sharp reminder as to why I'm no longer actively in the work force. I feel pretty messed up, and the first day was very, very painful. Here I am trying to stretch out my pain meds and I'm in excruciating pain and needing to function like a normal human. Read: impossible. So when I got home I decided to do a little drinking to try and iron out some of the pain wrinkles. Unfortunately (or fortunately, as you look at it), I'm a total rookie when it comes to alcohol. I mean, I've never been drunk before. Never.

I drank three full glasses of rum and cranberry juice with maybe a little more rum than I should have used, and I drank them fast. In a little while, I started feeling pretty good. Warm, fuzzy, numb face and limbs... I was probably hurting still, but I didn't care anymore. It was a little hard to balance and stuff, but not bad. I've had worse when I was dealing with dizziness from the Cymbalta. But then... it kept going. And got stronger. And stronger. The lag is what got me-- I had felt fine, so I kept drinking. Not much longer after feeling "better", I began throwing up and wasn't able to stop for probably an hour. That was NOT fun.

Verdict: being drunk sucks. Well, okay, being throw-up-drunk sucks. I liked the warm fuzzy feeling, but I'm afraid that I can't achieve that without accidentally going too far. In addition to that, my body has definitely made it clear that alcohol is too hard on my already taxed system, and I shouldn't be messing around with it. (I'm not supposed to be ingesting alcohol with the meds I'm on anyway, so that's no great loss. Just another pain relief method that's lost to me. Alas.)

I drank a couple of cups of mint tea to settle my tummy, drank a ton of water, and fell asleep. I felt bad when I woke up so I had a nice long sit in a hot shower followed by a bowl of plain oatmeal and a mug of chamomile tea in addition to more water. Then I went back to bed so I could get up bright and early for work today. I fully expected to be completely destroyed today, but to my utter surprise I ended up hurting much less than the day before. My theory that I concocted with a friend is that I did indeed have a hangover, but it was so much less severe than my usual symptoms that it seemed like a decrease in sickness. Apparently my ability to avoid a hangover is a superpower, according to the same friend. Funny.

Okay, now for the real drug part. I've been having this ongoing war with C's uncle on Facebook about how he thinks I should smoke marijuana and all of my reasons as to why that's a bad idea and I'm not going to do it. He keeps bringing it up, over and over and freaking over again, even after I went on his wall and literally said, "Please stop telling me to do pot." Well, he didn't. So when I was drunk I hopped on fb to message some of my close friends about my mistake and how awful I was feeling. I also popped out a status update, and the following comment war ensued. I find it hilarious, epic, and also pathetic. It ended with my unfriending and blocking this uncle of C's, because I realized (through the efforts of my friend) that I don't have to put up with that crap.

I now give you the Do U Smoke? comment war.

Cassandra I accidentally did a bad thing and now there are repercussions that I am not fond of. Hergablergh.

Yesterday at 6:45pm

R that could mean a lot of things.
Yesterday at 6:46pm · Like

Cassandra Yup. Purposefully ambiguous. That way I won't be judged. This is, after all, a public forum.
Yesterday at 6:46pm · Like · 2
R I highly doubt I would judge you, but its possible.
Yesterday at 6:47pm · Like
Cassandra lol No, probably not you... but others, definitely.
Yesterday at 6:47pm · Like

R I once ate some Chinese food that made me sick and then I went back for seconds...just kidding, that was my husband.
Yesterday at 6:48pm · Like

C Hah! Really? That's terrible... he must have felt awful.
Yesterday at 6:48pm · Like

R he could have killed himself!
Yesterday at 6:49pm · Like

R One time I didn't write something down and then I forgot what it was. Ok, lots of times.
Yesterday at 6:50pm · Like

Cassandra Yeah, that's pretty much the story of my life!
Yesterday at 6:50pm · Like

M You are absolved!
Yesterday at 6:51pm · Like · 1
Cassandra Gaaaah, if only it worked like that!
Yesterday at 6:51pm · Like · 1
B another way of saying u smoke
Yesterday at 6:57pm · Like

Cassandra I'm pretty sure that would be a purposeful action, so no.
Yesterday at 6:58pm · Like

B just do it it feels good
Yesterday at 6:59pm · Like

B i heard
Yesterday at 6:59pm · Like

Cassandra That is one of the worst reasons to do anything, especially when it's something that could result in my husband losing his job and thus my losing my health insurance. "You heard"? Yeah, suuuuuure lol
Yesterday at 6:59pm · Like

B he should think of you and get another job that respects the constitution
Yesterday at 7:02pm · Like

Cassandra He is thinking of me. He has a great job with good healthcare that allows for advancement, not to mention it's a stable job in a crazy economy and will provide for our family for decades to come. Just because smoking MIGHT help me means he should give up his job in one of the cities with the highest unemployment rates in the country? I think not. I'd rather he keep his job and be able to pay our bills.
Yesterday at 7:04pm · Like · 4

B in regards to ya sure i'm neither a user or an advocate just don't want u to be in pain a suggestion
Yesterday at 7:08pm · Like

Cassandra Thanks. I appreciate the sentiment.
Yesterday at 7:09pm · Like

S that's the rub, is that the pain will likely stay forever, regardless of what treatments tried. you always trade something for pain relief, whether it is organ function or mental clarity.
Yesterday at 7:10pm · Like

B just smoke the pot and be well nobody will tell anybody . no one will come to ur house and say be ill, and just keep the music down you will be ok its better then meds
23 hours ago · Like

L The lady said no several times on several threads. I'm glad you're so passionate about trying to help, but maybe redirect that passion to being supportive of the decision she already made? 

^Ranting because the "No I will not smoke pot" explanation shouldn't have to be given on every single thread. Sorry for crossing that line, not sorry I feel this way
23 hours ago · Like · 1

Cassandra Thank you, L. I appreciate that, and I feel the same way.
19 hours ago · Like

Cassandra So true, S. What a lame predicament.
19 hours ago · Like

B hey L you sound like you could use some pot too for your head you sound angry thank you have a nice day and i dont smoke pot but if it would help me i would if i was in pain and D be your own man r u a cop too dont let them brain wash you be happy have nice day nephew
3 hours ago · Like

L B, I am angry with you for trying to pressure my friend into doing something she doesn't want to do despite the fact that she's told you her position on the matter numerous times. I'm sure you would smoke pot of your situation was similar to Cassie's in which case i would be supportive of your choice, and she would probably be nice enough not to spam you with frequent messages about how you shouldn't smoke pot. Her choice is her choice, and you should either respect and support it or keep your dissatisfaction with her decision to yourself.
3 hours ago via mobile · Like

B pressure?
3 hours ago · Like

L Yes. Pressure. You take every conceivable opportunity to tell her to smoke pot. She tells you in no uncertain terms that she will not smoke pot, has her reasons for having reached that decision, and has shared those reasons with you. In spite of that, you continue to hound her about your opinion of her decision for her health and her family. If you were at a gathering of your friends and colleagues and someone told you to have a drink and you refused and they kept telling you to take it, it's just one drink, it's not going to hurt anything, just do it, etc. it would be peer pressure. If you were at a bar or club trying to pick up somebody and they told you no multiple times and you didn't get the hint the bouncer would remove you from the building for harassing the other patrons. No on the internet is just as valid as no in real life.

2 hours ago via mobile · Like

B you seem so angry you should smoke pot too and be happy
2 hours ago · Like

B who are you anyways you seem so animated like bart simpson or stewie, have a nice day
2 hours ago · Like

L Me smoking pot will not make you less of a drug-pusher, nor will it change the fact that i don't like my friends to be harassed.
2 hours ago via mobile · Like

B are you a cop
2 hours ago · Like

B drug pusher ,you sound crazy too
2 hours ago · Like

B i see how you hide your self
2 hours ago · Like

B just stop bullying me, too much sadness from you have a nice day cop
2 hours ago · Like

B are you driving and texting thats bad too smoking pot and texting and driving have a nice day and leave me alone please
2 hours ago · Like

L Since you said please, I will oblige. That's what grown ups do.
2 hours ago via mobile · Like

Cassandra Oh. my. god. Really? REALLY? B, I will discuss this with you in a private message, but publicly I will say that I don't appreciate the direction you took this conversation. L, thank you for dealing with the topic in a mature manner. We're done with this now.
8 minutes ago · Like

Private message:

B, I agree with my friend L. I feel as though you have continued to ply me with unwelcome pressure to do something that I have stated in no uncertain terms that I do not wish to do. I explicitly asked you to stop telling me to smoke pot, but you have only increased your efforts to get me to try marijuana. Why? What's the big fucking deal? I have explained myself to you time and time again, and I no longer wish to do so, since you CLEARLY don't get it. To see you insult my friends, my husband, and my brother in law is the last straw. I will be unfriending you.

Also, you may want to consider what you blast all over a public forum regarding your stance on prohibited substances. Some states may have legalized the use of marijuana, but it is still a federal crime. If you are ever busted, those comments of yours are incredibly incriminating. Don't think for a second that cops don't use Facebook to nail people. Just a thought.

So that's over and done. I have a funny story to tell, my brother in law wrote me an apology/explanation message about his uncle's behavior, and I am more self-aware and empowered when it comes to dealing with unwanted pressure. Lesson learned, life skills gained, and it's all good. I feel good about myself that this really didn't ruffle my emotional feathers as it would have in the past. It was totally not personal to me, and that's great.

Dear Dr. L,

I feel as though there are some things that need to be clarified that have been impairing the
effectiveness of our doctor-patient relationship. I am open to the fact that I may have misunderstood
things, and that you may have been working with thoughts and motivations completely unrealized by me. If that is the case, I apologize. However, I do not feel that maintaining my business with this
practice is in my best interest as a patient. In the past year that I have been a patient of yours,
my overall health and subsequent quality of life has decreased to such a point as to be laughable, if
one were not too busy crying and pitying me. Despite seeing me regularly through this time, the
records of my visits routinely note that "the patient has no difficulty performing daily activities",
despite my consistent and frequent protestations to the contrary.

My husband brought up a very poignant illustration of just how far my health has deteriorated. This
time last year I could almost hike to the top of Telegraph Pass, he said. Now, I'd be lucky to make
it out of the desert parking lot and up to the trail before having to turn back from pain, fatigue,
and general weakness. I have continually emphasized how regular, normal activities are becoming harder and harder for me to perform to the point that I am at the point of almost total debilitation, yet I do not feel that I am being taken seriously. Perhaps the blame lies with me in not being clear enough
about the severity, frequency, and variety of my symptoms, but the sense I get is that I'm being
dismissed. It's like if I come in and say, "Oh, my sickness is at a level 7. It's debilitating, it's
ruining my life," you take it as my sickness is really only at a level 4 and I'm not really that
impaired. I even brought in that "FMS Rating Scale" in an attempt to get you to understand the
severity of my pain and other symptoms.

The short period of time that I was using prescription pain killers in excess was a desperate attempt
to to control and somehow manage this pain; to get back to a somewhat normal standard of living. I
have, I thought, been very clear about the profuse, intense, and increasing amount of symptoms that I
have to deal with, and the disability that has come as a result. I feel that not only is my sickness
not being taken seriously enough, but I feel that the measures I am taking to cope are being
dismissed as exaggerative, such as the need for further pain control or for mobility assistance
devices like my walker. I am not sure how you were unaware of my having it until now, as I've brought it to several appointments with me, and I have had it since last December. I bought it for the plane trip back to W to visit my folks. I knew that I did not have the physical endurance to both walk
through the terminals and carry my bags without becoming so ill as to be rendered immobile. The cold of a W winter, and the fact that I was not yet on pain killers, forced me to use it for mobility's
sake while I was there, as I could not walk normally due to pain. (This was back when the pain was
localized mostly in my lower half.) When I got back home, I didn't use it for a while, feeling that I
did not need it for basic mobility. After a time, I began using it when I knew that I would be
standing or walking for a long period of time, and the pain from that would make moving very
difficult. It was also handy for the fatigue that accompanied long periods of walking or standing. As
time went on, my pain increased and my endurance decreased, and I began to use the walker more and more. My husband got me the walking stick that I think you remember so that I would not have to cart the walker around and endure the stigma of a young woman with a walker (no matter now neatly
decorated), but that way I still had something to help with mobility issues due to pain and fatigue.

That worked well, until recently the pain in my hands became so great that using the stick is out of
the question, and I have come to rely solely on the walker as my means of mobility aid. I explained
to you at the last appointment that I use the walker to help with balance, to help me walk when pain
affects my mobility, and to provide a resting place when fatigue/nausea/lightheadedness overwhelm me, which is frequently. My endurance is at the lowest it's been, and a simple grocery shopping trip of half an hour requires several rests, sometimes ending in my husband or a friend wheeling me around on the walker like it's a wheelchair because I am too sick or in too much pain to walk myself. That happens more often than I'd care for it to... as in, it happens on a regular basis.

Another concern of mine, beyond not being heard and/or dismissed is what would appear to me to be
false reports in my records. In the "Rheumatologic Exam" section of each appointment, results for
various examinations are listed as though the exams were performed at every appointment when this has not been the case. I recall only 3 appointments at most in the entire year that I have been seeing
you that I have been touched or manipulated in some way for an exam; certainly not at every single
appointment. It troubles me that at every appointment my joint and flexor tendon examinations have
results reading "Normal exam", yet I was never examined. The trigger point examination notes diffuse trigger points throughout, but I am not re-examined for this (though it's true). Also, I noticed on my chart that I have an assessment of "fatigue with polyarthritis". Why has polyarthritis never been mentioned to me, and why are we not addressing it if it has been determined that this is an illness I'm dealing with? You have seen my health declining rapidly over the past year, yet it would appear that an apparent lead to managing my symptoms is being ignored. I need an explanation on this. Even my general practitioner, whom I saw recently, is alarmed that no further diagnostic action is being taken given the decline of my health and the elevated titers that sent me to your office in the first place.

I do feel a little more as though you appreciate what I'm telling you with the hand x-ray and
ultrasound that was ordered, but this seems to me to be the first decisive action towards further
exploration of my condition in a long while. I understand that the diagnostic process takes time,
especially with the types of diseases that often mimic one another, but surely there must be a more
aggressive manner to pursue diagnoses? I feel that the symptoms that I bring up are casually
acknowledged and then dismissed. You sprang into action when I mentioned hand pain, but what about the insane spinal pain that I've been telling you about for several visits? It concerns me, but it is
not even mentioned in the notes. The fact that I have recurrent fevers and sores of the scalp, mouth,
and nose seem to be of little to no consequence to you. That you note that I "insist" that certain
symptoms are related to autoimmune diseases makes me feel like I'm seen as some patient who decided she had something she found off of WebMD, not to be taken seriously. My general practitioner affirmed my inherent understanding of my body and the autoimmune connection right away, and while she corrected me on some points I still felt heard, understood, and that she was taking action on my behalf and had my well-being in mind, which I am hard-pressed to say about the care I have been receiving here.

My husband made an extremely valuable point, though, which is that when you see me, I am at my
"best". I'm out and about, I'm dressed, I've got my makeup on, and I'm running on adrenaline to make
it through being out of the house. You see me when I'm "okay". I'm sitting up, smiling, talking,
cracking jokes... it seems that I'm doing okay. But you don't see the aftermath. You don't get to see
that I barely make the drive back home and then crash on the couch for the rest of the day. You don't
get to see the pain spike because I used my energy reserves for the day at that one appointment, or
the fever that comes with overexertion (or for no reason at all!), or the nausea and dizziness that
keep me prone even if I weren't so bone-tired and wracked with pain. You don't see any of that. You
see a relatively happy, healthy looking girl who wanders in with a walker. So I see why you might not
be taking me as seriously as you ought to.

If we do end up working together again in the future, I want you to take me seriously when I tell you
that I am seriously impaired and that I live with devastating pain on a daily basis that is not
adequately controlled by pain medication or the alternate coping methods I employ. I need you to
understand that I am worsening over time, not getting better, that I am alarmed by the rapidity and
severity of my symptom development, I worry that I will be completely disabled in the near future and that my life has literally been ruined by whatever is going on with me. I want you to understand that while it's easy for you to listen to my litany of problems and then wave me out the door, I have to
live with every single one of them, every moment of every day. Nothing we have tried so far has made any of it go away. I want you to realize, truly realize, that I am becoming increasingly desperate
and unsatisfied with my quality of life, and that depression is becoming a major problem for me. This
is why I am seeking help elsewhere.

Yesterday was the Women's Empowerment Conference that the HJ hosted. We had a lot of help to make it a reality in the first place. For instance, a law firm sponsored us and gave us the money to hire caterers to provide a free continental breakfast and a lunch to all of the women and vendors present. That's nothing to sneeze at, for the total head count was somewhere around 100, way beyond my expectations! I helped to run the registration table by the front door, then I sat at the HJ's booth. There were lots of flyers and information on our table, as well as those silicon bracelets that everyone likes so much, and there was also one of those informational tri-fold cardboard things, but it was very hastily put together for this event. E gratefully accepted my inquiry of making another one for us. I know I can do a great job, and it's important that our information be displayed attractively. Presentation is a large part in what draws people in. (That's why it bothered me so much that some of the books we had to sell in the summer programs were clearly outdated and very unappealing. It made them much harder to sell, and even believing what was in the books already I had a hard time reading them and taking them seriously.)

I didn't stay for the whole day, leaving after the keynote/lunch speaker, but I enjoyed what I was there for. I was there for the majority of the day, and it wiped me out! I did get a free chair massage from the massage therapist who was there, which helped my back pain for a little while. I was definitely glad I had brought my stick and a large quantity of pain killers, though. I can't wait to debrief about the conference on Tuesday at our HJ meeting. I am certain that it will be an event that will continue for many years. I'm so happy that we're becoming a presence in our community with annual events! There's the talent show, for one, and now this Conference. I love being a part of something that makes a difference in people's lives. I really do. I feel very fortunate that I have both the opportunity and the skill set to be a valuable part of the HJ.

I was very tired afterward, though. I came home and napped, then C and I went out to run errands, but I was in bed and asleep before ten last night. We went to the Verizon store and priced phone plans for when I switch over to his plan. It is so expensive! C and I went through the budget item by item yesterday, and I'm discouraged, frankly. I mean, I know we'll be okay, but... I feel guilty for being such an expense to him. It's not like he didn't know it when he married me, but I wish that I had ways to ease his financial burden. If I could work, that would be one thing, but not only am I not able to really work, I bring medical bills and expensive food bills on top of all that! If I could live on rice and beans I would, but I cannot digest beans (or most proteins, really) well and it causes me more problems. After taking out all of the necessities like bills, we have just above a hundred dollars to buy gas and anything else we need. I told him that I will buy my own gas, and not to worry about it. I can manage that much with my paycheck. I'm still trying to pay down my credit card, but it's a very slow process. E and I were talking about increasing my hours this summer, and I'd like to, if just for the sake of finances. (More than that, though, I savor the feeling of making a valuable, viable contribution to something other than myself.)

I was racking my brain, trying to figure out where I can cut expenses to help, but I can't come up with anything. Even when it comes to food, as expensive as it is, I buy only the basics. Fruit, veggies, sometimes chicken, cheese, or fish, rice from time to time, yogurt (though I'm cutting that out for other reasons), rice milk and cereal, oatmeal, applesauce... That's it. My big splurges come in the form of, "Omg, can I have raspberries this week?!" And I know that C's not upset with me for any of this, but I almost expect him to be. Weird, huh? I know where it comes from, at least partially, though, and C's called it on more than one occasion. When I'm fretting about costing him money, he says, "I'm not R, and you're not your mom." It's true. R gets very worked up about spending money, and Mom is not good at not spending it. I do not nonchalantly spend money on things that are not necessities, though from time to time I feel an insatiable urge to spend money on myself in a way that is not necessity-related, like buying a dress from Goodwill or a new bottle of nail polish or a new piece of jewelry from WalMart or Etsy or something. I do, but it always comes out of my own money, what little that is, and I invariably feel the pressure afterwards that I could have spent it on something more productive... but the pleasure in my purchase overcomes the guilt. Usually.

It blew me away the first time C made that comment about R and mom, but I immediately saw the truth of it. And you know what? I'm actually glad they're getting divorced. They have put much work into their relationship and into the family, but it's still very dysfunctional, and it's better for everyone involved if they go their separate ways. I think everyone will be happier eventually, even if they aren't at first. The kids are going to have to get used to living within much tighter means, and while it may be difficult for them it will be a valuable lesson. R is a good person, as evidenced by the fact that he's buying the family a place to live and will be giving them money for a pre-determined period of time. That blows me away. I mean, when you're divorcing someone... usually you don't volunteer to give them money after you're split up. I never had any doubts about him being a good man, but he needs to get his PTSD under control. He's also very moody, which I could never handle. One of the things that draws me to C so much is his stability in nearly every area. R is stable financially, to be sure, but his moods are so subject to change... I always checked with mom to see what kind of mood he was in before I called to talk about money with him. Mom has her own mood swings, but maybe I'm more used to those since I grew up with them. I don't know how to explain her, exactly... I mean, she's generally always upbeat, in the same way that people say I'm always happy, but she can go "manic" and be swept away in some idea of hers on a moment's notice. A trip to the store is never just a trip to the store. You may end up 3 other places before you finally make it there, which always wore me out and made me impatient. (Realizing now that it was probably my lower-than-normal energy levels contributing to that without my realizing it-- not enough spoons!) I mean, I love adventure as much as the next person, but I just want to get my errands done and then decide if I feel up to anything else. I suppose that's the fibro talking. I do cherish the memories of her coming home from work and announcing that we were going to San Diego that weekend. I dunno. I'm ambivalent about it.

There's so much more to the situation, but I'm pretty much just staying out of it. They're adults. They need to work it out on their own. There's a situation that Mom is involved in that I am uncomfortable with and disagree with, but I've made my feelings known and now I just have to let it go. I still love her to pieces, but I'm not her caretaker. It is strange for me to keep my hands off emotionally, but it's taken a lot of work for me to be healthy enough to do that. She's my mother, not the other way around, and though I spent much of my life trying to take care of her... that's not my job. It's not my place. So she knows how I feel and why, and I'm letting it drop. She needs to work things out on her own. (I do kinda feel like a parent watching their child make mistakes, though... it's hard.)

I am sad about not being able to visit for Christmas this year, but Mom has said something about her possibly being able to visit me sometime this year or next, so that's very exciting. I would love to have her here. I told her that she'll be so proud of me when she sees my little house and the life C and I have built, but she said that she's already so very proud of me. Warm fuzzies!

I was telling C about our conversation, and how Mom used to be afraid that being with him would hold me back, "live a small life", because she has always felt that I'm destined for great things. Now, as we're discussing the stability and love that C has brought into my life, we both agree that he's the solid foundation that has and will allow me to grow into my full potential. The analogy was that he's the soil that will let me bloom. When I told C that, we started this joke about how he's dirt to me and how that would sound if we said it around others. So now, as a term of endearment, I shout at him, "You're dirt to me!" It's pretty funny :)

I just have to remember something really nice that my friend M said yesterday. I mean, it wasn't nice in context if he had actually said it to the person he thought about saying it to, but it was nice when he told me about it.

He and his girlfriend, who is also a friend of mine and kind of part of "the circle", recently broke up. She already has issues (as do we all) and is taking it really hard, dealing with severe depression and self-worth issues, etc. They remain in contact, so she calls him when she's struggling and he goes over there to talk to her, or talks to her on the phone. Anyway, he spent an hour on the phone with her yesterday, and he's really getting tired of trying to be her savior, so he told other friend M and I that he thought about saying this particular rant to her, but he didn't because he knew it would break her.

What he felt like telling her was this:
"I know you've gone through some tough times and had some bad stuff happen to you in your life, and I know you don't feel like getting out of bed in the morning, but you know who doesn't feel like getting out of bed even more? Cassie. But she does, and she kicks ass every day. And she calls us up and says, "Hey, I'm feeling really crappy, but do you want to come over anyway?", and we do, because she made the effort. And what do you do? You stay at home and cry."

So, yes, while it would be totally mean to say that to someone struggling with severe depression (and I understand it's born of his frustration with her and the situation), it's also nice to realize that my friends feel that way about me. I didn't realize that they consider my getting out of bed and putting forth effort kicking ass, but they do... and it's pretty affirming.

These same friends have been so good in the wake of my grief, and even before that, during my last grapple with depression. They come over and just hang out with me at my house, and we have a great time. They scold me when I start throwing spoons away and going a little bit manic with my "I have to get stuff done" mindset, and they remind me to take my meds, and they drink tea with me, and most of all they just let me talk and swear and yell and just be myself in whatever capacity I need to at any point in time. I was worried for a while that I wouldn't make good friends here like I did up in ID with the S's or K, or like J from Souls, but... these guys are well on the way to being that kind of friend. I'm really grateful that these kind of people exist all over the place.

Also, I set boundaries with the God-bully again, a continuation of standing up for myself at M's memorial last night. I got a text message from them (they've employed this method before), which I was planning to ignore, but C pointed out that this is a great opportunity to set boundaries because they're an "easy target" for this kind of thing. He's right. I can set boundaries with little to no repercussions with this person, because it's not like we have consistent communication anyway.

Text said: "Cassie, I hope I didn't say anything offensive to you last night. And I wonder if you and I could do 'They That Go Down To The Sea' sometime as a duet for church? You could play your guitar and sing melody and I could sing harmony. Keep in touch, OK?"

I responded with: "If you feel the need to say something, then you already know you said something offensive. I do not appreciate being bullied into attending church, especially using god as a pretext."

This is my life
Its not what it was before
All these feelings I've shared
And these are my dreams
That I'd never lived before
Somebody shake me
'Cause I
I must be sleeping

[Chorus]
Now that we're here,
It's so far away
All the struggle we thought was in vain
All in the mistakes,
One life contained
They all finally start to go away
Now that we're here it's so far away
And I feel like I can face the day, and I can forgive
And I'm not ashamed to be the person that I am today

These are my words
That I've never said before
I think I'm doing okay
And this is the smile
That I've never shown before

Somebody shake me 'cause I
I must be sleeping

[Chorus]

I'm so afraid of waking
Please don't shake me
Afraid of waking
Please don't shake me

[Chorus]

Yesterday was a seriously confusing set of emotions for me. Very complex, very intertwined, and very pervasive. It left me feeling both invested in and totally invalidated, which is a strange and repulsive mixture. I don't recommend that you try it anytime soon.

Remember how I was all excited that BJ and I were doing lunch and shopping? Well, we did. We also had a lot of time to talk while doing those things, and it was during lunch (our first activity) that things started going downhill for me.

I have come to the conclusion that BJ is not actually a safe person.

This is hard for me to come to grips with, because I have always assumed that she was. Indeed, for a long time she has seemed to be, especially given the largely dysfunctional and toxic people that I was surrounded with. She has been a safe person for me for so long that to have that status shifted is, well... very unsettling. It's almost like an identity crisis of sorts.

I suppose I should clarify what I mean by "safe person", just to be on the safe side. (Heh.) A safe person is someone whom we can have a safe relationship with, versus someone who is toxic and unsafe. According to authors/Drs. Cloud and Townsend, this is how you can identify a safe person:

"So, what are safe relationships? A safe relationship is one that does three things:

1. Draws us closer to God. (Matthew 22:37-38)
2. Draws us closer to others. (Matthew 22:39)
3. Helps us become the real person God created us to be. (Ephesians 2:10)

When John (Townsend) and I asked people to describe a “safe person” to us, they gave us these descriptions:

• A person who accepts me just like I am.
• A person who loves me no matter how I am being or what I do.
• A person whose influence develops my ability to love and be responsible.
• Someone who creates love and good works within me.
• Someone who gives me an opportunity to grow.
• Someone who increases love within me.
• Someone I can be myself around.
• Someone who allows me to be on the outside what I am on the inside.
• Someone who helps me to deny myself for others and God.
• Someone who allows me to become the “me” that God intended.
• Someone who helps me become the “me” God sees in me.
• Someone whose life touches mine and leaves me better for it.
• Someone who touches my life and draws me closer to who God created me to be.
• Someone who helps me be like Christ.
• Someone who helps me love others more."

Okay, clearly these guys are Christians, and maybe I'm not looking for someone to blatantly Bible me into being a better person, but you get the idea.

You see, BJ's house was always a haven of refuge for me from my crazy home life. Even when I was "drifting into the world" as a teenager, I always felt unconditionally loved and accepted by her and her family. When I went away to SOULS, she expressed some concerns that I wasn't learning the whys and wherefores of things, but that I was conforming to peer pressure, and she was somewhat right. (She reminded me of this during our talk.)

In recent years (or year), however, it feels like... I dunno. It feels like I'm responsible for her emotional happiness and stability in some ways, though the cues are so subtle that I'd be hard pressed to put it into words. Honestly, I'm hard pressed to put any of this into words! I know, I know, me without words. Hard to believe, right? *sigh*

There are two driving issues here: one is my health, and the other is my spirituality/life choices.

BJ is a nurse, and somehow it feels like we always end up talking about my sicknesses, especially now that fibromyalgia has reared its ugly head. She can't seem to wrap her mind around why I'm so sick, and I keep getting those cliche phrases that I hate so much, such as "You're too young to be sick like this!" Today she mentioned multiple times that she doesn't understand why I got so ill so suddenly, why my health suddenly took such a nose dive. Heck, I don't understand it, either! It just happened. But I always, always get this creeping feeling like somehow it's my fault... like I did something or am not doing something right... but yesterday, she was so bold as to say that she thinks I got fibromyalgia because I left God. Wow. Really? Really? That's harsh, man.

The thing is, when I feel even subtly attacked, I find myself falling over myself to explain myself more and open up further depths of my soul to her, as if sharing more truth will somehow help her to understand and accept and stop blaming me and bringing out the guilt. (I wonder if her kids go through this, too?) It doesn't. It just complicates things further.

We were talking about my future as a massage therapist, and how C takes care of me so well, and I mentioned that there is a possibility that I may end up bedridden from fibromyalgia, as I know people in that boat. She immediately and vehemently protested this, insisting that I shouldn't focus on that, that I shouldn't even be considering or contemplating it. No matter how much I explained myself or insisted that I'm not choosing this outcome, but that it is indeed a reality that I must face and accept, she maintained her position that even acknowledging it is the same as choosing it, and I shouldn't even allow myself to think about that, and that I'm going to get better and that I'm underestimating what God can do... (as if he would heal me anyway, 'cause it's not like I haven't asked him a billion times before, back when we were on good terms, but I digress...) Basically, she completely dismissed my illness and insisted that I'm going to get over it. At least, that was my interpretation of the situation. As there are two sides to every story, I fully admit that I could have been completely misreading her.

I explained it like this-- if you have cancer, you have to face the fact that a possible outcome is death. That doesn't mean you're choosing it, or even that it's highly likely, but it's still a part of reality. She came back with a fiery and intense rebuttal of, "Only if you have terminal cancer is that the case. Any other kind of cancer, you have other options."

Look, it's not like I want to be this damn sick all the time. I miss hiking, and I miss cleaning my house. I miss doing more than two or three "things" in a day. (I struggled with fatigue already, but that was small potatoes compared to my life these days.) But I really, really resist the attempts to whitewash my reality and my future and exclude reality from my plans and my thoughts. She told me that I was spending too much time researching fibro online, basically saying that I was focusing on the negative aspects of my illness too much. Um, no. I get down in the mouth from time to time, but I'd like to think that I'm actually rather optimistic about being in severe pain every waking moment. I just felt so... dismissed. Invalidated. Disrespected, I guess. Like she was saying, "No, your interpretation of reality isn't correct. It's too pessimistic. Here, let me replace it with my own. This is the right one. Now, don't go back to your way of thinking! It'll only hurt you." I felt as though she was implying that, if I get sicker (or because I've gotten this sick in the first place, and because it came on so suddenly), that somehow it's my fault and that I was probably focusing too much on the negative and not wanting to get better well enough or something like that.

On that note, check out this funny cartoon! (One of my friends, M, showed it to me when I came home all distraught over my encounter with BJ, after I had explained the whole thing to them... or vented, more like.)

The second issue is my spirituality/life choices. I already mentioned how she thinks that I'm sick because I'm drifting from God, or at least that the two timings coincide quite suspiciously. (Because I got sick so suddenly, remember... because it's not like there are any illnesses out there with sudden onsets. Lord forbid I not be able to pinpoint the exact second I got ill and link it to a specific incident. Okay, sorry, sorry... sorry for the sarcasm.)

Basically, I'm not making choices with my life that she approves of, because I've left the path that she deems to be the path of life. She insists it's not about church, but that it's about God, but... I feel that the two are too synonymous in most people's minds to really make a difference. She's devastated because I'm living with my fiance before we're married, but the Bible doesn't say anything about that. The church does. I'm sure EGW probably does somewhere. But God doesn't. Sex before marriage? Yeah, there's stuff in there about that. I know that one, and I'm not going to go into my reasons for why I'm okay with it in certain situations right now. That's not what I need to talk about here. (Besides, there are other things that I'm okay with that God demands people be stoned for, so God and I... we have our differences above and beyond my anger issues with him.)

She told me that I broke her heart, just like her kids have broken her heart, because she/they (she and her husband) gave us everything, hoping that we'd learn to love the Lord and follow him but we've all walked away and she feels like a failure, and... also that I can never again break her heart or hurt her like I already have, because her heart is already broken so badly.

First of all, I resent being "gifted" with the ability to devastate someone like that with the choices that I'm making with my life. Do my choices affect others? Most definitely. Am I responsible for that? Partially yes, and partially no. Others (we're talking mature, responsible adults here, not dependents) also have a choice in how they will respond to my actions, whether they will let themselves be devastated by my choices or simply sad, maybe disappointed. I told her very clearly that I am not making rash decisions, that they are well thought out and wrestled with, and that I have total and complete peace within my own mind about the path that I'm pursuing. She hates that I'm marrying into atheism; I don't mind it. She says that it's going to affect me; I openly acknowledge that it already has, and I quietly acknowledge that I'm grateful for the dose of realism and cynicism. I stated that I am striving to live as authentic of a life as possible, and I am not interested in hiding who I am, where I am, and even why I am.

I just feel that, if I am not making the decisions she feels to be the right ones, then I'm a profound disappointment and I've crushed her soul. No one likes feeling that way, because it's not about my choices, it's about me and my self-worth. I am a disappointment, not my choices. I never, ever feel this way with my mom, with R, or with the S's. They have somehow mastered the art of loving, accepting, and enjoying me, even if they disagree with or are disappointed in the choices that I'm making. BJ has yet to learn this, and I begin to understand why I have felt this strange sense of alienation between her and her youngest son throughout the years. I didn't get why he had this strange, subtle resistance to his parents, especially his mom... but now I do. I feel it, too. You can't thrive in that kind of environment. It's stifling. Her mind is so closed that she can't comprehend that someone else's path might lie along a different track than the one she's taken. She found salvation such-and-such a way and in such-and-such a place; how could you possibly find it elsewhere? It doesn't exist. And if you are outside her understanding of "right", then you will break her heart. *sigh* I'm tired just thinking about it.

The thing is, as long as we kept things light and fluffy, we were fine. We enjoyed ourselves, and had a grand time. It's when things get beyond surface level that trouble brews. I realized last night that I have to draw some boundaries... I just can't let her in to the deeper parts of my life anymore.

I discussed this with C last night, and he told me that he was proud of me, and that I handled it well. I stood up for myself (I didn't go into all the details here, because they're not really important, but I did outline pretty much the whole conversation for him.), whereas a while back I would have quailed beneath her disapproval and cowtowed to her wishes. He pointed out that I'm much stronger than I used to be, even if I don't see it all the time.

Honestly, I am pretty proud of myself, too. I am a little daunted, though, by the task before me of setting boundaries with someone that I've been so open with for so long... but I have to. For both our sakes, I think.

Best part? In days past, I would have been so affected by her words that I would have doubted the decisions that I've made and begun the familiar dance of vacillation. This time, however... I never wavered. I know in my heart that I'm making the right decision for me, regardless of what anyone else thinks, and I'm going to go through with it.

That's not to say that our conversation didn't affect me, because it did. I went to the bathroom and cried. There were "a lot of feels", as my friends would put it. So many feels. Though I managed to tuck it away deep inside me for the duration of our day together, I was swirling in a muddle of torment that evening when I got home. I was able to talk about it with a couple of buddies and with C, so that made processing it a bit easier, and the emotions eased up as I realized what was really going on. I seem to always make the jump to assuming that I'm in the wrong. Always. If something's going on, it's probably my fault.

But the guys helped me to see that such is not always the case. As M pointed out, it seems that the situation was all about her-- her broken heart, her disappointment, the fact that she gave everything and I "betrayed her", so to speak... her confusion about my illness...

Everyone else agrees with me about the whole "facing reality and all the potential outcomes of my illness" situation, by the way. They feel that she is trying to avoid or alter reality... but really, do you blame her? Someone that she's loved and nurtured for over twenty years is suddenly super sick, and talking about how they may end up bedridden someday from this sickness. Wouldn't you panic, too? I mean, who wants that for anyone that they love? I can see why she would deny that possibility and insist that I focus only on the potential for healing. I can see that. I just don't think it's appropriate or helpful.

While I could see her concern and care for me and her sympathy for my pain in her actions throughout the day (not letting me lift things, being considerate of walking distances and having me wait at the front of stores so she could pick me up in the car),  I still don't feel that same support from her that I do from J, or from C, or from my mom, R, and the kids... or even from the guys, for that matter. I don't know what it is, but I just can't consider her to be a part of my support system. She supports me with her actions, but she tears me apart with her words. There is no verbal expression of sympathy or concern for my pain or illnesses, just sighs of sadness and, "Oh, C..." (which, of course, totally mimics disappointment and makes me feel like I've done something wrong in being sick...).

Okay. I'm done. I've waded through this enough. I love the woman, but she's not safe for me anymore. I have to close off that harbor and not anchor there any longer. I can sail through and visit, but I can't unload on the docks.

This is either going to be much, much harder than I think, or much easier than I'm anticipating. We'll see how it goes.

Well, the Christmas tree is up and littered with ornaments now. I mean, it's been up for a while, and lit with lights, but I finally got some ornaments and hung them up today. By "got", I mean "borrowed from D". Heh.

I finished everything but one assignment for my online class (an assignment that's worth more than the final, I might add!), and my math final got moved to Wednesday, so things are a bit less hectic for me than I thought they would be. *Whew!* So now I can focus especially on studying for my A&P class, which (thanks to my previous study and my sharp mind) I now have extra points in. Is there a grade for that beyond A+? Anyway, I worked the numbers and figured out that I can miss 69 of 200 questions on the final without sliding down to a B. Any more than that, though, and I lose my A. Though it is doubtful that this will happen, except in the event of a spontaneous lobotomy, it's nice to know that I've got such a big cushion. Honestly, though, I really want to get a perfect score on the final and finish the class with extra points, like I am in my online class. That would be cool. I've worked hard towards that, too.

I was noodling around on my guitar while taking a break from studying for A&P, and I happened to play "Never Part Again". Then, of course, I got homesick! So I called the S's, and D answered. He sounded pretty good at the outset, but I know that talking can be a challenge for him at this point... Sure enough, after a few minutes of back and forth chat, his voice was getting strained and he was clearing his throat several times. Under the pretense of getting back to studying, I ended the conversation sooner than I would have liked, but I don't want to unnecessarily burden him. I'm saddened and frustrated by the realization that he's slipping away, despite everything they've done to stop it.

Another friend of mine is beginning another round of chemo for persistent brain cancer, and her husband organized a "bring the bling" encouragement drive on fb, since they call her The Chemo Princess. Someone gave her a tiara and a wand and such, which she takes with her to every appointment. I didn't have a tiara or a wand to join in the bling encouragement fest, but I scrounged around and came up with what I could find...

Meh. Close enough.

I posted that to her wall with a note of encouragement/gratitude. I hope it brings her a smile :)

Life. Is it fair for me to be happy while so many others are suffering? I guess we all have our own tragedies...

I'm joining SOULS at BJ's house tomorrow night for worship and lentils. I'm gonna take my guitar, I'm not gonna take out my earring, and I'm not gonna take off my engagement ring. I have a Magabook experience to share, believe it or not! And I don't mind bringing in the Sabbath, even if I'm not SDA anymore. Of course, I won't advertise that fact... I still really like Sabbath, and I love bringing in the Sabbath with others who enjoy it.

I'm hoping that there will be little to nothing in the way of pressure/judgment from anyone (especially A), but if there is, I intend to stand my ground and keep my boundaries intact. I am not ashamed of my life, myself, or my man, and I will not let anyone cow me into feeling that way. I am also not ashamed of where I am with God right now, as it is honest. I would rather be authentic than accepted, I think... and if it comes down to that, so be it. But I don't think it will. For all my fears, SOULS kids (and staff) do tend to be gracious, at least to people's faces. It's just the zeal that I'm worried about...

I'm back, baby!

I knew I'd come out of my depression funk eventually... it took a week, but I'm on the upswing.

I just need to manage myself carefully, because it's so easy to work myself into a frenzied lather of energy and motion and manic happiness after being down. It's just so delicious being happy, and caring about stuff, and having the energy to do some things! Very, very easy to go overboard.

And so, today I forewent my walk. (Forewent is the past tense of forego, yeah?) I want it, because I enjoy it, but I recognize that today was such a busy day, with so much running around and cleaning and work and stuff, that I would be overdoing it by taking the walk... no matter how enjoyable walking is for me.

I see this as maintaining those physical boundaries. "Today, I will go this far, and no further." (Did I mention that I'm proud of myself? Go me!) Life is busy right now, and I need to be wise. I somehow passed that big test with flying colors, despite freaking out about not grasping the material, and being too apathetic and unfocused to study really well. (I got over 100%. Really? Really?!) I've still got a lot of school work to do (we're learning slope and average rates of change and stuff in algebra now), on top of the HJ, but those are constants. Fluctuating constants, true... I've got a couple of odd jobs this week and the next, and I'm still trying to nail down wedding stuff. Then there's this holiday stuff, like the zombie haunted house. A group of us are going to see S's big play this weekend, and I'm celebrating my Anniversary of Life this weekend with BJ and F.

Oh, yeah-- Happy Anniversary!!

That was an Astrovan at one point in time.

I'm so happy to be alive. And to have my vision back. And that everyone else survived, too, despite the odds! Six years... I can hardly believe it.

Here's to Life.

More importantly, here's to a Balanced Life.

Cheers.

Did I mention that I set a boundary with a church friend recently? She also happens to be my doctor. At my last appointment, she asked me if I'd take part in a sundown worship program she's putting together. I really didn't want to, but didn't feel like I could say no... so I didn't. I just kind of let her make up my mind for me. And I resented that.

So, the next morning, I texted her this message:
I've thought about it, and I'd rather not participate. hope you understand.


I was exuberant at my victory (especially since it took prompting from S and C to be able to do it). Then, a few hours later, I got a response.

I don't, but I love you just as much. C, is there an issue related to me? Have I been offensive or anything?


Of course, I had to clarify, which I did, and was rewarded with a nice, respectful, and well-meaning reply.

No, it's not about you at all. thanks for the affirmation :)


C, you are treasure, and I enjoy EVERY moment of time I get to spend with you. That's only one reason I'm disappointed. Another reason is that I LOVE the way you play that guitar. God has given you a very special gift, and I am glad that you are cultivating it. If you change your mind, I'd really appreciate your help. And the church loves to see you up front and to hear your music, so call me (or text) if you repent :)


Problem solved... or so I thought. Today, I received a series of 5 texts from the same person, which, I'll admit, irritated me some. (I thought I set a boundary here, woman?! You're supposed to leave me alone now!)

Text 1: C, my beloved friend, could there be a problem related to backsliding?
What?! I'm glad I'm your "beloved friend", but I don't perceive us as being that close. Your term of endearment does nothing to cushion the question so frankly leveled at me. Although, I must admit, I am grateful for your honesty. At least you're not being sketchy or manipulative. (This is because I was wearing a necklace when you saw me, isn't it?)

Text 2: Maybe related to a greatly loved fellow who isn't good for my young friend?
Ahh, yes... here we go. The heart of the matter. Everyone thinks they know what's good for their little christian friend. How, may I ask, do you know what is good for me and what isn't? I think the issue at stake here is whether he is good for my Adventism or not. Truth be told, I do not consider myself Adventist any longer, and it is not due to C or anything about C. You want to hold accountable a "fellow who isn't good for my young friend"? Talk to G. Talk to the one in "good standing" in the church who was beating and molesting his young step-daughter. Talk to the elder who lied to and about my family to achieve his own pernicious ends (and who is still a leader in good standing in the church!). The one who told me that my mother had cancer because she was "living in sin". Leave C out of this, because he is a good man and does not deserve your judgment. He's more moral than many christians I know, so don't even pretend like you know him. You have no right to drag him into my personal decisions, either. I don't want to come to church because I hate that God, alright? I want to know what God is truly like, and Adventism is standing in my way right now.

Text 3: Ever since you backed out of helping, the Lord has put your face and your name in the front of my mind.
Actually, I think it's more likely that, because you're planning a program that I initially agreed to help with, you're constantly being reminded that I rescinded my reluctant offer of assistance. Could be the Lord. Probably isn't. P.S.- I "backed out" because I never wanted to be helping in the first place, and I refuse to feel guilty or bad about my decision.

Text 4: I have noticed that you seem sad compared to the exuberant attitude when you first came back home.
There are several things I could say to this. First of all, yes. Yes, I am sad. Remember, I came to you not too long ago asking for help because I couldn't handle my horrific depression anymore? I think that's a viable explanation for sadness right there. Secondly, my exuberance was due to the initial rush of seeing people I hadn't seen in a long time, and the possibilities at my fingertips. Now? Now I'm ground down by the passage of time and dealing with stuff and trying to hide from my upstanding churchy friends that I no longer believe what they believe anymore but I don't want them to be upset with me or alienate me so I'm trying to fake it! (Also, I really don't feel like being "talked down" by every single church friend... because deep down, every Adventist is an evangelist. That means that you can't just sneak out the back door. You've got to fight your way out, tooth and nail.)

Text 5: I love you and am praying for you.
That's nice. I could use the prayers.

But I don't think I'm going to answer. Or, if I do, it will look something like this: "I appreciate your loving concern on my behalf, but there are really no issues I feel the need to discuss with you."

That seems kind of rude to me, though. I'll have to refine it somehow.

You know what I do feel guilty and bad about, though? Not having a job. It's that cyclical "I feel so awful about this that I have no motivation to remedy the situation, thus leading to an escalation of feeling helplessly awful which leads to more inaction which leads to..."

I just... feel... inadequate. "This is why you'll never truly be 'an adult', fully functioning and capable of taking care of herself." I also feel panicked. What will I do when I run out of money? I'm so sick of mooching off of people! Yet, what is a realistic expectation? I only have three weeks for crying out loud! Who will hire me for that little of time?!


Sigh.

In addition to that, there's this nasty little bout of intensely shameful feelings and undisclosed secrets re: the abuse that I've just uncovered today and am trying to deal with. I feel so inadequate when it comes to handling myself and my feelings... or trying to lead this peer group. Gag.

I'm seriously, seriously wondering if something in the way of sexual abuse didn't happen to me when I was much younger, because there are some patterns and stuff when I got older that just don't... make sense otherwise.

There are some puzzle pieces missing, and it's starting to bug me.

I think something happened to me when I was a toddler... from the time period when I have my first memories of (physical) abuse. I also think that it's connected to the daycare somehow... and possibly the first G. I do recall and have always recalled (hazily) him urinating into a cup and trying to force me to drink it. I just don't remember if I did or not. I know I didn't want to. But I think I thought it was my fault because I wouldn't wear my socks right so Mom left me at home instead of taking me to daycare (which I hated going to for some inexplicable reason).

I feel sick.

This kind of stuff isn't supposed to happen to toddlers.

What is wrong with the world?!