Hey friends, just a quick note to tell you that I haven't fallen over the edge of an abyss or anything. After that last blog post, which was particularly soul-searching for me, my mood has actually lightened considerably. I feel much better. I think being able to put my finger on the pulse of the problem helped more than I dreamed it would.

I've spent the last several days setting up a pleasant routine with Drogo when he comes home from work, part of which includes taking the ten minute walk that the neon doc ordered me to. It feels good (mostly, sorta) while I'm walking, but when I get back I usually feel pretty abysmal within a few minutes. Also, I finally got meds to deal with the nasty sinus infection I've had for the last month, so my body is kicking that and kicking my butt at the same time, like with fevers, lots of sleep, crazy nausea, dizziness… Actually, come to think of it, it's not much different from the norm except for the fevers and chills. Hah. Just ramped up a bit.

Anyway, I didn't want to leave the blog on such a morose note, knowing in myself that I'm doing better but with everyone in my blogging family having only the idea that I'm somehow still pining away in my bed for all they know.

I'm alright. For now. Just dealing with the physical maladies as usual, going through that book (I'm reading a chapter or two a night to Drogo after we get back from our walk, actually!), and trying to make the best of things. I've also found another group of friends here in town that I hope to meet in person very soon-- we're trying to organize a get together. We all share similar, yet diverse, interests that most people don't understand, so I suppose that makes us feel closer than we might if we were just happenstance people from the same town. Also, Drogo wants me to meet up and befriend a friend of his from work that he thinks I'll get along with. So maybe my social needs will be met soon, more than I predicted. That would be nice. I don't plan to make any bones about my disabilities, my inability to remain upright for long or go out often. If people want to befriend me, it's got to be the real me and not some fakey pretender.

I'll catch you guys the next time I have some emotional breakdown and need to vent lol. As Vash the Stampede says, "Love and Peace!"

I finally pulled out my chalks and created something, though it wasn't what I expected to come out. I kind of expected an abstract, but a stylized representation of me, asleep, and nightmares creeping in is what came out. I've been dealing with a lot of nightmares in the past few days, horrible dreams where the ones I love are hurting and people are in pain and there's nothing I can do about it. Many of them involved injury, death, violence, bad people, and inexplicable series of events. Due to the constraints of my illness I can't resist the sleepiness that overcomes me, but I don't like to be there because I wake up aching on the inside and out. Sleep used to be my refuge, but it's become a war zone of late. I hope this is just a phase that passes quickly. It's probably the subconscious workings out of my tortured body and mind, the considerations of the future that terrify me and the thought that "ending it all" might not be so bad except for the pain it would inflict on others. I guess it comes down to the question of how selfish I am. Can I stand to offload all my pain and suffering onto those I love to gain a surcease from my own constant torture? Unfortunately for me, I am not inherently that selfish, but I can't say what rash decisions I might make in the throes of agony. You've been warned.

Rose and I have plans to meet up for a few hours tomorrow during the Celebirthsary weekend that Drogo and I have planned. She's out west for spring break and I'm up north for those two days, so what's the harm in going a few hours more northward to see my bestie? No harm; none at all. I'm SO excited. We've only seen each other for a few hours in the past two years, and though I love her mom dearly she kind of put a damper on our last reunion and it wasn't possible to just sit and gossip over a chick flick like we would ordinarily have done. I was happy just to see her, of course, but I'm looking forward to our reunion amidst the pines and fresh mountain air of the bible college we both attended and were roomies at. We were discussing the rejuvenating effect the wilderness has on us, and how we both come alive when we're able to go out and explore and adventure and just wander… and I guess that conversation brought home the thoughts that have been percolating in my head for some time. The sense of loss when I realize that I can't join her in a merry hike amidst the trees like I want to. Remembering that I have to be sure to pack my pain pills and my other meds and my walker and the footstool set up for my walker so that Drogo can push me when I am too tired/hurt too much to walk anymore. The reality of my situation crashing home, once again.

When I was told that I am dealing with "just" fibromyalgia and not any autoimmune disease of any sort, it was a brutal shock for me. I didn't think that it was possible for "just" fibromyalgia to so drastically affect someone's life, health, and well being in this manner. I was positive that there was something behind the scenes aggravating and inflaming the fibromyalgia symptoms. There had to be something else, something treatable, so that when we found it and started working on it the fibromyalgia would recede as well. That was my working hypothesis. It turned out to be false (unless there's something neurological at play here, which the twitchies would suggest, but who the hell knows anymore?), and now I have to face the reality that it's "just" fibromyalgia, something that is not taken seriously in many cases and places… and something that I didn't really take seriously, in all honesty. But now I have to face the facts, and that includes the fact that my misery is due in large part to fibromyalgia, a little understood neuro-immunological disease/syndrome, and none of the treatments for fibro have improved my situation at all. I've simply continued to worsen. When I learned that it was "just" fibro, the horrible  reality that came crashing home was this: I've had active fibro for about a year and a half, during which I have not responded to any treatments and have worsened dramatically. If I'm looking forward to years and years of this, if the progression continues on the same scale that it has in this past year and a half… will I even be able to walk by the time I'm thirty? How much pain will I be in by then?

There are certain expectations that I have, unless something dramatically improves, certain things I've had to grieve and come to terms with… that I'm still coming to terms with…

I cannot have a family. I can barely take care of myself, and I'm not so good at that, so a baby is out of the question right now. If I were to get pregnant and if I could carry the baby to term (something I've been unable to do so far), I would have to be off of all my medicines, including pain killers. How sick would I be, how much agony would I be in, and how would that affect the development of my baby? The emotions and state of mind of the mother affect the baby, as those things result in chemical secretions. I want to be a mom, to have a family… I broke down crying the other night, and while Khal Drogo was comforting me I sobbed my apology to him that I cannot provide him with a family like he wants. It's something we both wanted, part of our shared vision for our union and our future… and right now it doesn't look like it is going to happen. Maybe if I get some better, and my friend acts as a surrogate like she volunteered to do… maybe I can have a family in the future. We were going to wait several years anyway, to get financially stable and make sure that we can actually take care of any children we might have. No going into debt unless emergency dictates so, or strategic financial planning.

I would be a kickass mom. I so would. I have a strong maternal instinct, kids just gravitate to me, and I practically raised my siblings when I was far too young to have to do so. Did you know that one of my nicknames up north was Mother Goose because of how the kids flocked to me? It makes me smile every time. I love kids. I want to have kids. I want to be a mother, and it kills me that I can't seem to carry my own and that right now it looks like I won't be well enough to care for a family. How fair would it be to bring a child into the world when I can't adequately care for them? Not fair at all. I don't want to disadvantage my babies that way. I dunno. We'll see. I still refuse to believe that I'll never be a mother, and the timing isn't right for a family right now anyway. So this one is on hold. It's far too painful to believe willy nilly.

Okay, here's another one: hiking. I miss being active; long walks at night, day hikes, backpacking trips, just being out and about without paying for it for the next few days. I miss going on adventures, challenging myself physically… Hell, I miss cleaning my house. I miss being able to do stuff myself, instead of relying on others for assistance. It is so infuriating to have to wait for someone else to get around to doing what I would be able to do seven times over in the time it takes them to get around to it (because people have their own lives), and I could do it so much better than them to boot. I have such good intentions of just gritting my teeth and doing a little bit at a time of the things I want to get done… but when the time comes I'm just so tired and nauseous and dizzy and I hurt and I just don't want to do it. It's like trying to function with a really bad flu, and it sucks.

I miss being independent. I am so reliant on other people and it kills me. I used to be the one that did things, that took care of other people, that made things happen… and now what? Now I don't. Here's another one: working. I miss my work as an admin assistant/office manager and peer support group leader and advocate. I miss being able to contribute to the home financially, but more than that I miss being able to make a positive contribution to the world around me, to my community, to the lives of broken girls and women. I miss giving. If life were fair, I'd be able to receive just as much as I gave, but that's kind of in short supply… there are a few key people who help out as they can, but for the most part I feel pretty abandoned. It's like, if you can't do anything for people then you get pushed to the back of the list. I can't claim that I didn't do the very same when I was still capable; I can't remember. And that's just the thing… I get forgotten. Left out. Left behind. I'm needy now, and an awkward burden to carry. I would love to say that I don't blame people for it, but the truth is that I'm super bitter about how little help I get even when I ask, which is a hard thing for me to do. I did find a friend that has committed to helping me clean and cook for a few hours every Saturday, but I'm skeptical as to whether that'll last or not. It's not exactly thrilling, sweeping floors as I hobble around helping where I can. I notice that people tend to not like being around a young person that's ill and un-fixable. It reminds them of their mortality, how misfortune can strike at any time and any age, and that's just a plain ol' downer.

I have to air this out, but only this once because I feel really ungrateful and like a jerk for even having an issue like this… but I'm really ticked about my birthday party. It was so much fun and I had a blast and I was so happy to have so many of my friends over… but so many of the people I invited didn't come. The ones who did show up are the ones that are the most consistent ones in my life, the ones who show up even when there's not cake. But the ones who didn't? They're the ones who claim to love me and we were close, once, for the most part… but they couldn't even be bothered to come to ONE thing? I don't ask for much, I don't think, but this was really important to me. I don't get much of a chance to have a happy, fun day. Most of my days are pretty flat and painful, sprinkled through with little things that make me smile. I have to hunt for them, though. See, about the people who didn't come… every person who bothered to make an excuse had a good one… but they all had excuses and didn't/couldn't come… and that hurt. A lot. Just another example of being shut out, left behind, and forgotten. Ouch. I'm also upset that I had to throw myself a birthday party. Like the logic doesn't even work-- everyone knows that I'm really sick and have a hard time with basic life, but it's left to the girl who hasn't even been cooking because it's too much to plan and execute a party. People knew I wanted a party, but as the saying goes, "If you want something done, you have to do it yourself." Not only did the sick girl have to make her own party happen, but the majority of people didn't even come to the thing that took so much effort and destroyed me for days upon days. Not cool, yo. Not cool.

I'm terrified that it's all in my head, and my limitations are self-imposed. I don't deny the physical aspects of this illness, not at all. But I am afraid that my "can'ts" aren't derived from past experience like I believe them to be but are rather mental constructs sprung up from who knows where. Maybe if I just tried harder I'd find that I really am not as crippled/disabled/sick as I thought? Maybe I just need to push myself more.

I guess I could go on, but the gist of this thing is that I'm reeling. Not only is there not something treatable lurking in the background, but this thing that I have has not responded to any treatments in the past or present. My year long sabbatical from the Healing Journey to get better? It's probably a permanent thing. My whole attitude of "just wait until I get better and then I'm gonna _______" is pointless, because there's not a "get better" phase to this disease that I can tell. I'm stuck like this, stuck like this forever… and I'm only 26. How many more years of untold suffering await me? I can't really think about that because it sends me spiraling into a panic attack, and do you blame me? Maybe you haven't seen my pain blog (which I only update sporadically now, because none of the doctors ever look at it so what's the frickin point?), but it's a dismal portrait. That… for the rest of my life… and likely to get worse. 

I need people. I need people to do random acts of kindness, to help with basic life activities, to listen to me vent, to throw me parties and buy me Arizona green teas and encourage me to exercise (and help me with it!) and all that jazz. I need people but I feel like I'm standing in this great void where my friends used to be. I do have some very strong supporters… but they live hundreds and thousands of miles away. They play an important role, to be sure, but I need people here. That's the part of my support system that's sadly lacking. I know, I know… people don't want to overextend me and make me sick or interrupt my naps or impose when I'm feeling poorly… I've heard that from my grandparents several times. Here's the thing, though… I don't feel good. Like, ever. Once in a blue moon, but it doesn't last long. If you're waiting for me to feel better before you interact with me, it's never gonna come. That's why I need you. I need help. I need love. I need friends, and I can't come to you. Can you understand that? Do you know what it's like to see your car out the window and know that it's just not safe for you to drive, to know that you're as stranded at home as if you had no vehicle at all? It's awful. I'm stuck here, and unless people come to me I don't see anyone. I'm that crazy old shut in lady at the end of the street, and I haven't even hit thirty yet.

"Just" fibro. "Just" a life sentence of pain, sickness, isolation, and the fight against depression.

Can you comprehend what it's like to know that your life is over at 26? The life I had planned is gone. It's like I died. Cassandra is dead, and I don't even know who I am anymore or what I can/want to do with my life. I was going to be a massage therapist. I was going to visit all 50 states, to travel overseas and try different foods and see art museums and antiquated buildings. I was going to have a family, have children. I was going to be a licensed peer support specialist, a licensed suicide prevention… person. (What are they called? Brain fog.) I was going to be the office manager for the HJ's new location, be the other half of the organization's head even more than I was before. I was going to hike all the way to Telegraph Pass. I was going to backpack from one rim of the Grand Canyon to the other. I was going to go to Alaska and hike in Denali Park. I was going to raise a garden in my backyard. I was going to unpack and organize my fucking craft room! There is so much that makes up Cassandra, so many dreams and ambitions and tightly held hopes… and they're all rendered pointless or impossible now. Maybe after some time has gone by and I've grieved appropriately I will challenge that word "impossible", but for now… the reality that I've been handed is very bitter, and I'm not sure how to handle it. I want to go hiking with my Desert Rose tomorrow, but I know that's not going to happen. I will feast upon her cinnamon rolls because gluten is a thing that's happening in my life again, and I am incredibly grateful for this (even if I am slightly allergic to wheat). It's so nice to have real baked goods again, and I've never gotten to taste Rose's baking. That's one dream that I can fulfill, at least.

Goodbye, Cassandra. Hello… whoever you are. Strong, fierce, stubborn, broken, sad, implausibly hopeful, beautiful, giving, intelligent (despite the brain fog), creative, flexible, sexy, hilarious, needy, angry, still standing despite it all. I feel empty inside from the wrenching away of my future, but I still have good things swirling around the ragged edges. The gaping, cavernous wound will heal with time, I'm sure, but for now… it hurts.

A friend of mine, The Artist (as I will call her from now on) took it upon herself to draw me a picture since she figured that my spirits might be down lately since I've been really suffering this last month. She's right-- if you've read my blog at all in the past week or so you can see that I'm really going through an existential crisis type of depression, so this picture really cheered me up.

At first I loved it just because it's so adorable and it makes me smile every time I look at it, but then she explained the meaning that she put into the little details and I love it even more. I wanted to enshrine it forever with the meanings behind it, and this is the perfect medium to do so. First, here's the picture.

Here's what she says about the picture:

I thought you might have been feeling pretty down, so I figure I get back to my drawing board for some inspiration. And I drew you in a renaissance spoon warrior.

I mostly worked hard on the spoon and chest armor. I put a lot of meaning to your outfit and spoon weapon.

The chest armor with the tree symbolizes your family tree. Its braches represent your family and the family that you stayed with. No matter how far the braches spread a way from eachother, the roots will always indicate how much of an impact your family is towards you. The handle of the sword is the tricky part. I places a picture of a heart and a cross to represent the people that you have lost, but give you strength to carry on. If you look carefully you'll see a small vine of a plant (I think is name was David?) and a small crown for the "Chem princess" I think that is her nickname. The handle gives you the grips to carry your burdens and to help you move forward. Lastly, The staff of the spoon blade has writtings on it. They are the vows that C have to you on your wedding day, though I change the words from English to Irish, so it looked cooler and no to obvious of what I was doing. It represent of course how much he means to you, but gives words of strength and comfort.

I figure just an ordinary spoon didn't give it much justice, so I did my best to make it meaningful

I love it. I love it so much. Thank you, Artist, for this beautiful and unexpected gift that warmed my heart and lifted my spirits. I treasure it.

This video I watched this morning perfectly illustrates what I was talking about yesterday, about meeting myself and not defining my worth or capabilities by my appearance. It's definitely, definitely worth a watch.

There are some days when it's hard to be totally cheerful. I mean, there are some days where I'm just a little melancholy. It could be any number of things; perhaps I'm not feeling particularly well one day, or maybe I heard/read/saw something that triggered a sense of loss, or maybe it's that the moon is in the house of Mercury in retrograde or whatever. The fact remains that sometimes that melancholy is just… there. Today is kinda one of those days.

I've not been feeling really well since I had those three days of hell without my pain meds. Did I mention how god-awful sick I was? I really don't think you can comprehend it unless you've experienced it. I couldn't, and I feel uber sick all the time. It was that bad. Like, I never want to experience that again upon pain of death bad. The only thing that kept me going was having a "deadline" to look forward to as to when I could refill my meds. If I had to do that indefinitely… nope. Just nope. I'm not even going there in my thoughts.

Anyway, December was a hard month for me. There was the travel, cold, and stress that came with visiting my family. That was already difficult for me, and then there were two trips to the big city for doctor stuff which was also hard on me. Then at the end of the month came my three days of hell, preceded by a sinus infection which I still haven't managed to fully kill. (Here's hoping the antibiotics work!) It was just rough, physically, and I'm not recuperated yet. I'm exhausted and most of the time I don't know "why". Is there a reason, or is this just my new level of normal? It's hard to tell.

Okay, so I'm feeling crappy and tired and I've got this sinus headache that won't go away and I'm nauseous all the time and my stomach hurts badly whenever I eat something ever since the three days and I'm not really digesting things right right now, and I'm more achy and tender than usual, and… I just generally feel run down. Imagine that you've had a really bad case of influenza and a stomach virus for the past year and a half straight, with periods of getting other sicknesses on top of that. Congrats. You're in my life.

Sorry. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a downer. I just see everyone around me with their resolutions for the new year, and they're exercising and eating food and getting healthy, and I'm… getting worse. Still. Guys, it kinda makes me want to cry.

I know my life is amazing. I know it. My husband is the most awesome of awesome things to ever be awesome, truly. I have fantastic friends. I have good health care. I have a family that loves and supports me, even if they don't all understand what I'm going through. Our bills are paid. We have the disposable income to be able to go to the movies once in a while, which we did yesterday. We have the money to support pets, and I love my kitties. Life is good, y'all. It's just hard to enjoy it sometimes when you feel so crappy and you're so uncertain about yourself and the future. I know my future with my husband is steady. (Did I mention that we're almost to our first wedding anniversary? I'm so stoked.) But my future with myself is still so up in the air and I hate that. I want to know, dammit! What is wrong with my body? What is the malfunction, and what can we do to correct it? I just want to know!

Did I mention that I had to step back from the HJ? I asked for a year's leave of absence to get better. I believe it. I feel it. This is my year. It's gotta be. I can't afford to get any sicker. What will I have left? I will still be running the teen girl's support group. That much I can and want to do. But the HJ, helping people, that's my heart and soul, man. To have to give that up is killing me. The HJ is exploding. We're getting big, we're getting funded, we're getting really professional and helping a ton of people. Positions are opening up that I am perfect for, and I want to jump in there and do it so much… but I have to sit on the sidelines and watch E scramble to find people that are half as reliable and trustworthy as I am. I have to watch her get let down time and time again because people are flakes, and I can't step in to pick up the slack. I am so helpless. I hate it. I absolutely hate it. It eats at me.

It's like I finally found my passion and my purpose in life, and now I'm forbidden to live it out. It's like being a dancer and succumbing to a slow paralysis. I just… I grieve for my losses, as surely as I grieve the loss of a loved one. Who died, you ask? The Cassandra that was, the Cassandra that could be and could have been… she's slowly but surely faded away into nothing but a faded memory, the echo of half-remembered song lyrics and the wisp of a scent long passed.

I watched What To Expect When You're Expecting again today. It's a cute movie, and I like it. However, it brings things up for me, as so many things do these days. I took a pregnancy test at the doctor's the other day so I could get a renewed prescription for birth control, and the nurse that took my urine sample asked me if I had kids and if I wanted kids in the future. I just smiled and said yes, but my heart started crying because not only did I have babies and I lost them, I don't know if I'll ever be able to create a family in that way and it kills me. I want to be a mom. Oh, I want to be a mom. (This coming from the girl who swore she'd never marry and have a family! But that was just protection to keep myself from getting hurt again.) First of all, I am unsure if I can even carry a child to term even if I were healthy. Secondly, there is no way that I could see a pregnancy through to the end at this point, or even care for the child afterward. As bad as I am right now while on meds, I would have to stop taking all of my medicines while pregnant for fear of damaging the fetus. That's not a viable option at this point. C and I have actually discussed this situation and what we would do if the birth control fails and I find myself pregnant. Both of us agree that we really would have no option but to terminate the pregnancy. Even thinking about that just destroys me, because I want to be a mom… Voluntarily giving up the life growing within me seems so counterintuitive. But it is what I would have to do. I hope and pray that I do not get pregnant until we resolve my health issues. I seriously, seriously do. Fortunately or unfortunately as the case may be, the women of my family are super fertile. (Did you know that I am the result of a drunken one night stand in a meadow? Parties, liquor, and ex-boyfriends just don't make a good mixture apparently. But hey, I'm not complaining. I'm rather glad to be here, actually!)

So, here I am. A happy little mix of weird feelings and positivity and optimism and fatalism and bleak uncertainty and maybe a few bad jokes just for good measure.

Oh, guess what? The last doc to prescribe my pain meds changed the frequency, so now I can take one every four hours instead of making myself wait six hours. It's actually quite an improvement, and although the meds aren't as effective as I'd like them to be (I'm never not in some level of pain, but it's the difference between bearable and unbearable.), it's making a big difference in the level and duration of the spikes of really intense pain. I'm quite happy about that! I still don't like that I'm so reliant upon opiate pain killers for even basic functioning, but I'll shoot a rubber band in the eye of anyone who suggests that I can go without them. The three days proved the folly of that hypothesis quite clearly. I can't wait until I no longer have to slowly destroy my organs to maintain my sanity. This is my year, guys. It's coming. I'm gonna get better. Just you wait and see! Until then… naps. Lots and lots of naps.

(Oh, quick funny story! At M's bday party last night a girl that I'd just met or maybe had met in the past said to me in passing, "You're looking really healthy these days!" I smiled and thanked her politely, of course, but inside I was both incredulous and laughing bitterly and hysterically. It's funny how well I do look, though, to be honest. I mean, I've gained weight but I'm still quite attractive, and there's really no outward indication of my health struggles except for the walker that I use when I'm out and about. I am both grateful and resentful of that. Hard to explain. But I've learned to simply accept the compliments with good graces. No one likes to have their compliments rebutted, no matter the reason.)

Whew. Today has been a rough one.

I did a ton of packing yesterday, and then we moved it all over to the new house, so that definitely wore me out. On top of that, I had a doctor's appointment and a couple of errands to run, plus my last Spanish class, and I was already fighting major fatigue. I did not want to help load up the truck and move our belongings last night-- I wanted to go to bed!! But I helped my beloved anyway, because it would be a jerk move for me to leave it all to him. He looked over at me in the passenger seat and said, "I can tell that you overdid it today."

"You think so?" (Not sarcastically, genuinely questioning.)

"Yeah."

And he was right. I was hurting yesterday, but I woke up at 5:30 this morning due to pain and a growling tummy, and I could NOT get back to sleep. I was so frustrated! So I got up, ate something, and settled onto the couch with my trusty, newly-fixed laptop. After an hour or two, I dozed off and was able to get a couple more hours of sleep before my acu appointment. I wasn't up to walking, because even two painkillers hadn't dulled the pain to a "let's act normal" level, so I drove. That was a big tip-off to E, my acupuncturist, because I usually walk. When she saw I didn't have The Stick with me, she knew I was hurting. She did a more intense treatment on me this time, on my back instead of my front, and then my massage therapist worked on my back when she was done. I still hurt when I came out, but I felt tons and tons better.

I've been medicated today, but I feel funny. Weak. Like my eyes won't focus right, and my legs are going to give out... and this funny, weak, up-and-down feeling in my torso. I don't know how to explain it. But I'm tired. Sooooo tired...

So anyway, I came home and made some food, chatted with J for a while, then hopped in the shower with C and got ready for my next doctor's appointment. To the dermatologist! I got my stitch from the punch biopsy taken out, so now I have a neat little crater that's healing up quite nicely. It turns out that the blotchy rash-lesions on my chest are a fungal infection, and we can blame that on my suppressed immune system. Not only is my immune system compromised, but the dexmethisone for my adrenals suppresses the immune system, and the hydroxychloriquine is a suppressant of sorts as well. So the derm said that I'll probably see reoccurrence with this, especially while it's so hot. It's not unsightly or anything, but still... first acne, now this? I guess I'll just be battling my skin all of my life! At least it was clear and beautiful for my wedding pictures. I am unendingly grateful for that.

Also, I had my appointment with the lady doctor yesterday, and after describing that bleeding situation with her she put me down for a pelvic ultrasound. She didn't feel any lumps or anything in the manual exam, and everything else looked good and healthy, but she'd rather make sure that everything's okay than miss something terribly important... or even not-so-important. I'm cool with that.

After my dermatology appointment, I ran a couple of errands, saw my friends at the pharmacy (heh.), and then headed down to Mexico to try and hunt down a cheaper version of Savella for R. Bad news-- no one has it. Like, they've never even heard of it. Bummer :( But it was worth a shot, and I've found that I'm much better at dealing with the pushy vendors and the even pushier guys. I had one older man follow me for half a block asking if I wanted a Mexican boyfriend. We walked past his friend, who made sure to shout at me that he was single. Oy. I just kept walking, eyes forward, head high, no eye contact. Doing my thing, and ignoring them. There was a really nice guy in a safety vest that held my car door open for me, and stopped traffic so that I could turn around on the narrow little street to get back to the border. He was very kind, and I was grateful for him. I also noticed him tailing me briefly as I first began hunting for pharmacies, making sure that I was okay (because at the first pharmacy, the one that I parked in front of, some guys started trying to heckle me as I walked in). As I said, he was kind.

I was SO ready to be back home and collapsing into bed by the time I was finished with the Mexican pharmacies, but lo and behold... I got stopped at the border for inspection. I had to pull my car off to the side and sit on a bench while they went through every inch of the vehicle. I suppose it was the heat, but I got hit with the most incredibly intense headache while talking to the agent that directed me to pull aside for inspection, and it frightened me how sudden and shockingly intense the pain was. It was focused in my left temple and around and behind my left eye at first, but then it spread to my entire head while maintaining an emphasis on the left side. Any movement hurt, and it was kind of difficult to see. (Driving? Not fun.) When I was finally allowed to drive away and I got the air conditioning cranked up, it abated some.

I got home, changed, and collapsed into sleep for a couple of hours. Mercifully, when I woke up, the headache was gone. Now I'm just left with an upset tummy, an exhausted body (MOAR SLEEP!), and tendrils of a headache dancing through my noggin. And the twinging, painful frame, of course. I don't want to take more painkillers, but I may have to. If only I'd had the Comet I needed to scrub out the tub yesterday, I could take a bath now. But I kept forgetting it at the new house and only picked it up today. If only someone could or would come over and scrub my tub for me!! Alas...

I'm trying hard to be balanced, I am. I don't want to overdo it and pay an awful price, but it's hard for me to realize when I've run out of spoons, or when I'm working with diminished levels to begin with. C says that I have a lag in my energy levels, so that by the time I realize I've run out I'm already in the red. He's right, and I must learn to work with that.

My massage therapist gave me another "prescription" today. In addition to doing one thing each day that makes me happy (and makes me feel happy-- she emphasized that point!), I am to slow down on the packing, take more breaks, and make it fun. Okay. I can do that. At least she didn't forbid me to pack, like she came close to doing! I am definitely forbidden to move furniture, though... Nothing heavier than a chair. (Yeah, I totally ignored that two days ago when I was hauling boxes to the new house...)

So now I am laying on the couch, drinking coffee and tons of water and watching "Shall We Dance?" I love JLo, and I love Richard Gere, so this movie makes me happy. It makes me want to learn to dance. It makes me want to make C watch it so he'll want to dance so we can learn ballroom dancing together! :)

Yeah. It's been a rough day. But there have been bright spots, as there always are. I don't feel down, really, just physically trashed. I really just want C to get home, because I miss his face. And his presence. I love that guy...

Oh, and a major bright spot in the day? I've been getting very positive feedback on the Flip Flop Theory. J said that as she was reading it she was confused for a moment, as she thought that it might have been written by "a professional psychologist person", but when she checked she realized that it was indeed me that wrote it. So she said that I write really well, and it was well done. This pleases me. It pleases me greatly, especially since Miss J is a talented writer herself, and a fellow grammar nazi and etymology enthusiast. (Oooooh, alliteration! I love alliteration.) I am very grateful to be accoladed as a good writer, since it's a talent of mine that I'm especially proud of... and that makes me vulnerable in that area, and vulnerability is scary, scary stuff. So sharing my writing with the world? It's hard, but often quite rewarding. I guess I'll keep it up... :)

You know what? Today was a good day, and I'm proud of myself.

I know, I know... what a shift from my sobfest of last night, right? Yes, well... here's the thing about emotions: they're subject to change. That's why you can't base your decisions solely on them. Sure, they have their place as informants, but man, they can be fickle little things!

I did good today, y'all. And I'm not just talking about productivity levels, but more about being aware of myself and what I have to give... counting my spoons, if you will. I'm very tired, but I didn't overdo it. I almost did a few times, but caught myself before I went too far.

Productivity-wise, what did I do today? I'm so glad you asked! I'll tell you :)

I was supposed to go into work today, but a family emergency of some sort canceled that, so I got to sleep in. I was grateful, because I woke up at 8:30 from pain. I took a pain killer and a hot shower (Yaaaaay! I showered today! lol) and was able to drift back off to sleep around 10:30. It was nice, because I got to cuddle with C all snuggly and warm.

When he got up at 1 to get ready for work, I decided to wake up as well. I stayed in bed for a few hours doing internet stuffs, then arose and got ready for the day. I made the bed, opened the doors for some fresh air, and proceeded to clean. I knew that I would have to be careful not to push myself too far, as cleaning is one of the things that I get carried away with super easy. I tidied up the bathroom and fixed the shower curtain that I'd been wanting to work on for a couple of weeks. Then I got my roomie to do his dishes, did my dishes, wiped down all the kitchen counters and swept the floor. It was at this point that I realized that I would need to stop soon, but I was able to vacuum the main living area before I had to go lie down. (I was literally telling myself, "Go lay down, you need to lay down... now. Right now. Go lay down.") (Also, lie vs. lay. I never can remember which is which. I should google that.)

After a short rest, I took S to his friends' house, dropped off my laundry, hit up Wal-Mart for a couple of groceries and the final part of K's gift, then I jetted over to the mall to catch a free, open-air jazz concert with my friend C. The concert was really cool, and I'm glad I went. It got chilly after the sun set so my joints started complaining, and I was getting really hungry, so I ended up leaving before it was done, but it was great nonetheless. I had planned on visiting another store while I was there at the mall, but I knew that to do that would definitely be pushing myself past my limits.

I went home, ate, and rested up before I went back for the next step of my laundry. Then I pretty much just hung out on the internet until C got home.

Also, today I talked to my mom! I'd been feeling as though she'd been distancing herself from me lately, and it hurt... especially because she's one of my best friends, and I'm going through a lot right now, and I really need her support and advice. And with the wedding looming? I'm nervous and scared and slightly overwhelmed, and I really need her right now. To put it simply, I still need a mommy! So I wrote her a message about this, and we talked about it. Sure enough, she's dealing with a lot, as I suspected, and is very overwhelmed herself right now. (She assures me that my needing her is not a burden, which I'm grateful for.) She was kind of backing off, not wanting to take up my spoons and wear me out, but I insisted that I'd gladly use a spoon or five or fifteen to talk to her. Long story short? We're good, and it was not a big deal, really. Just a small bump in the road that was easily corrected with some clear, honest communication :)

Did I mention that I treated myself today? That blog post I read yesterday (the one that kicked my butt, remember?) had some really good advice in it. One of those pieces of advice was to reward yourself for your accomplishments. Not only was today a good day, but I've been trying really hard lately to be good to myself and keep balanced, and I'm proud of myself for that, too. So while I was at Wal-Mart, I was rooting around in the $5 movie bin and found a Planet Earth dvd and a Blue Planet dvd... and I got them! Not only is it a reward/treat for myself because I've been doing so well, but it's an investment for those future days when I'm not feeling well and end up on the couch watching movies. So it's a reward and an investment! Am I good, or am I good? :)

I'm tired. Very, very tired. I didn't overdo it, but I am ready for bed... especially because the gal I'm tutoring is coming over at 10 am tomorrow. Also, hopefully C and I will be able to hit up the antique car show tomorrow! If he can't make it, I'll go on Saturday on my own. It's a kind of tradition for me to go every year, and I don't want to miss it, even if I have to go by myself. I'd much rather prefer to go with C, of course...

And, with that, I'm off!

I am at once humbled and overwhelmed.

My parents have come through for me... again. Without my asking. Just... giving, because they love me.

I broke down to C last night, after he pulled the blankets off of my head and revealed that I was crying. The man just won't leave me alone when I'm going into crisis! (Which is a good thing, one of the reasons he's so good for me... he can deal with the waves that come up in my ocean.) I had been crying and praying under the covers, and then I was crying and explaining to C.

I felt trapped. So very trapped, financially. This last physical breakdown has/had me very discouraged, because it's not like I'm not honestly trying to be a normal, productive citizen, you know? But the kind of schedule demanded by the combined expectations and requirements of school and work together are just too much for my system to take, much to my utter dismay and chagrin. (And horror. And detestation. And... shall I continue?)

I have no savings. I have no income. I am living off of my credit card. Creditors are calling me because I have counseling and medical bills past due that I can't pay, and I need counseling and medical attention that I cannot afford. I had to drop a class because I can't handle full-time school, and financial aid didn't entirely cover my tuition costs. I still owe SOULS a few hundred dollars (that one can actually wait, it's not urgent, thank goodness).

And on top of that, I'm planning the wedding, looking at things and realizing, "I can't afford this. I can't afford even the most basic of these things. Why bother even planning if I can't do anything about it?!"

And then there's the HJ. That letter to E that I wrote. I'm going to re-write it. It's too snarky, to rant-y. I still feel like a "confrontation" is necessary, but not like that. In a different way. A loving way. (I'm SO glad I have this blog to blow out all my hot air before I do the real deal!)

There's the fact that I think I might take a hiatus from HJ. The fact that E will feel like I'm betraying her, the comment her husband M made when I was planning on going away to school about how that was "selfish", and how that will easily be applied to this situation... especially when she's already stressed to the max with me there to help her.

God, it makes me sick just thinking about how things have become with the HJ. Stress. Obligation. Not just me, her too. We really, really need to step back, regroup, build sure and firm, then continue.

I was talking to Mom about it, and likened it to a game of Jenga. You know the one... You start out with the tower of blocks all stacked together firm and snug. As time goes on, though, and the tower grows higher and higher, gaps start to appear. The foundation gets shaky. The higher you try to pile the blocks, the more delicate your infrastructure, until BAM! Everything falls down, and you lose.

That's how the HJ feels to me right now. We've done so much work, built this tower so high... and that's not a bad thing! The game is moving forward. But if we don't want our stack of blocks to collapse, we need to take some time to breathe, fill in the holes, and then get back to stacking blocks.

R is putting money in my bank account, enough to pay off the credit card and my bills, enough for a few more counseling sessions, and $200 extra for food. Apparently, he hates the idea that I'm trying to survive off of $20 here and $40 there. And he absolutely despises the idea of my living off of a credit card. (As do I!)

And I applied for 3 part time jobs that I think I can do without making myself sick.

I was searching the internet yesterday and last night to see if I qualify for disability, emergency financial aid, anything. Nope. Nothing. It's like I need to have cancer to get help... because you have to be practically dying before they'll take you seriously with an "invisible illness". (Or three, in my case...)

I don't even know where my health is at anymore, because I haven't seen a doctor about it in so long. I just get my maintenance dosage of meds from the doc up in Montana and call it good, because I can't afford to do anything else at this point. I'd like to get better, I sure would... I just don't have the money for it. Kinda funny how that turns out... like a catch-22. In order to get better, I need money. But in order to make money, I need to get better. Hah! I love life, sometimes :)

Seriously, though... this gift from my parents is a God-send. I was so stressed. I felt like my back was up against a wall. I literally did not know what I was going to do. I may joke about selling my body on the streets, but I will never, ever literally even consider that. I can't go down to the plasma center and make some money by donating blood and plasma because of my illnesses. I can't do school and most jobs at the same time... and even in the job market, I'm limited because I can't work around food at all.

So I am blessed. I was thinking and praying last night about how everything is supposed to have a reason for happening... or good comes out of it somehow... and I kinda committed to myself as I was hunting desperately for help with my health/work issues that when I am steady and stable and on my feet again (again? more like for the first time!), that I will somehow find a way to help people that are in a situation like I am. People who can't really work but who tough it out enough to not be considered disabled. People who need counseling but can't afford it. People with insurance that can't afford the co-pays, so they may as well not have insurance at all. People who fall between the cracks. People like me.

...People who crawl into a dark corner and curl up in despair because they don't have parents like I do, and there is literally nowhere to turn.

I know the bitter, chalky taste of exhausted hopelessness all too well. I want to help at least one less person not have to feel the panic and despair that I felt last night... that I've felt these last few weeks.

P.S.-- I'm back on solid food again! I had a rattatouille-esque dish for lunch, and it has caused only minor discomfort so far. What joy :)

Why?

The question that is never far away
But healing doesn’t come from the explained

Jesus, please don’t let this go in vain
You’re all I have

All that remains

So here I am
What’s left of me

Where glory meets my suffering

I’m alive
Even though a part of me has died

You take my heart and breathe it back to life
I fall into your arms open wide

When the hurt and the healer collide

Breathe
Sometimes I feel it’s all that I can do

Pain so deep that I can hardly move
Just keep my eyes completely fixed on you

Lord take hold and pull me through

So here I am
What’s left of me

Where glory meets my suffering

I’m alive
Even though a part of me has died

You take my heart and breathe it back to life
I fall into your arms open wide

When the hurt and the healer collide

It’s the moment when humanity
Is overcome by majesty

When grace is ushered in for good
And all our scars are understood

When mercy takes its rightful place
And all these questions fade away

When out of the weakness we must bow
And hear you say, “It’s over now”

I’m alive
Even though a part of me has died

You take this heart and breathe it back to life
I fall into your arms open wide

When the hurt and the healer collide

Jesus come and break my fear
Wake my heart and take my tears

Find your glory even here
When the hurt and the healer collide [x2]

Jesus come and break my fear
Wake my heart and take my tears

Find Your glory even here

Something happened after I discovered my ACE score, and the realization of how far from the "norm" I am (so to speak) began to sink in.

It was like God spoke to me very gently and very quietly, but I got a distinct message.

This is what I "heard":

Look at where you "should" be, statistically speaking. Don't you see how far you've come? You're doing well. You're doing very well. Keep going- don't stop now! But just know that you're doing well.


Also, don't judge yourself according to other's walks. You're right- they don't understand. They can't, because they haven't been through what you've been through. Remember, though, that you haven't been in their shoes, either. Every person has a distinct fight, and I've given you yours. Stop trying to fight their fight, and focus on your journey and on Me. You're doing well. Don't stop now.


Wow. Talk about affirmation from on high. It was... uplifting, yet humbling... and so exactly what I needed.

It's official...

• I'm starting school in July. Which means... I need to begin applying for loans THIS WEEK. (The finance lady at the school hasn't been very helpful at all when it comes to letting me know what I need to be doing and when. I'm pretty much figuring it out on my own. E, however, gave me some good info on loans and whatnot, so I feel more confident than I did twelve hours ago.)

This also means that I'm going to be seeing my ID peeps in approximately 6 weeks.

What a countdown.

I was so looking forward to taking C up there with me, showing him off, and taking him to my favorite places... but that'll have to wait for another time.

Now, I'm just looking forward to seeing my loved ones again. (I'm sure they will all marvel at my tan.)

• Pre-marital counseling is set. We begin next week, as does my own personal counseling. (The same afternoon, as a matter of fact!)

I felt very honored when C called me on his break to work out the schedule for our counseling, in response to my text earlier that day on the subject. It shows me that he places a priority on our relationship, on respecting my wishes to do this counseling together. Because, really... it could have waited until tomorrow.

• I've got the paint and the sander. I'm ready to rock and roll on redecorating the guest room (a.k.a. "my room"). That will be my project for the upcoming week. (I consider it to be a kind of "room and board" thing.)

• E had a brilliant, albeit obvious, idea today-- instead of freaking out about not being able to find a job that will hire me for 6 weeks (down to 5, now, by the time I get back from P and do my other work this week), why do I not simply go to a temp-hire agency and do work that way, day by day? Duh! Why didn't I think of that?

• I'm really mean to myself. I beat myself up a lot. It hurts. I wouldn't treat other people this way... so why do I do it to myself? (Well, actually, I DO treat other people this way in my head sometimes... I'm a real jerk inside my cranium.)

• I've got an awesome life. Truly. When E asked me, "So, what are you going to do now?", the answer was this: I'm going to go to school, get a degree, come back and marry the man I love, work with E and survivors, and massage people. Does it get any better?! (Not to mention that I'm going to settle down... which involves planting a garden! ^_^) 

And this "awesome life" puts my fears and distresses into perspective. Yes, I'm unemployed. No, I have no money to go to school on. But it's only 5 weeks. Five weeks. It's okay.

As D reminded me today... when God leads you, he also provides for you. "It's a package deal with him!" 

I love it.

I'm getting that question more frequently lately, because several close friends and family members know about my miscarriage.

It's nice, nice to know they're thinking of me and concerned about me, but I just... don't know what to say.

"I'm fine"? Not entirely true, but true enough.

"Better than I thought I'd be." That one's more accurate, and that's what I told J today. Still kinda "meh", but I'm doing much better than I anticipated. Then again, I have no way of anticipating or predicting my responses in this situation, since I've never experienced anything like this before.

I wish I could feel more anger.

A situation came up this week that should have really ticked me off, but... it didn't. I showed all the correct outward signs of being upset, because I knew that I was upset, but there was no stir of passion within me. I feel almost dead inside.

I came to Y brimming with passion and ideas, but the longer I am here, the more drained and lethargic I feel, on pretty much every front.

I just got cut back to two days a week at the herb store, so maybe that will help.

And I'm starting counseling in about two weeks. I'm looking forward to that.

Maybe it's just this spiritual confusion that's got me... scared? I'm almost frightened to know what the response would be from those who perceive me as this wonderful, solid Christian.

(Why does this feel like when I quit Bible work, all over again?)

I keep going through these cycles of "breaking free" of the imposed mantle of uber-Christianity that somehow manages to fall upon me.

I make decisions out of fear of disappointing those I love... and I'm really tired of it.

I've run up against a decision that will, either way, hurt and/or disappoint someone.

So I've thought through it, studied through it, prayed about it, sought counsel from both perspectives, weighed the pros and cons, and made a decision for myself, on what I feel is the best thing to do. Quite frankly, it feels great!

I'm still fearful of revealing the decision, because I know I'll meet with disappointment, even opposition, but I've made my choice. In addition, some of the people that I love and respect the advice of the most actually do, after a time, view my decision favorably. (They didn't at first, but after I explained my position and thoughts, they realized that it is a good thing.)

Honestly, I've never really been one to be evasive, and I kind of have been of late... for fear of running up contrary to the ideas of those I love. But I can't live a double life like that. It's wearing on the mind and soul.

So, I'm just going to come out and say it- C and I are in a relationship, and we plan to be married sometime in the next year or two. And I'm very happy.

It kind of reminds me of my decision to come back to Y. There were several points in time, on in particular, that I thought about coming back here, but I knew that I couldn't-- because it would be running away. The timing wasn't right. Finally, when I felt I was ready, I willingly chose to come back, and it wasn't running away.

With C, so often I've wanted to go back to him, to be with him, and several times I have, but I knew I shouldn't-- because it was running away. The affirmation I received from him was like a drug that I self-medicated with. I've come to some realizations lately about myself and about him, and this time... I'm not running away to him. I'm choosing him, willingly, because (for one thing) we love each other.

There's WAY more to my thought process than that, but I don't have time to put it down on paper now. I need to be sleeping in just a few minutes.

Oh, and this time... we're not sleeping together. We're gonna do this baby right. (That's gonna be a hard thing to stick to, but my mindset is different now as well, and that helps.)

God challenged me to trust him, even in the whirl of my darkened emotions.

I decided to do just that.

And as I prayed and thought this morning, it occurred to me... Jesus understands just what I'm feeling.

He knows what it's like to have that empty, aching void where parental love should be.

What was one of the last things he said?

"Father, why have you forsaken me?"

He knows what it's like to be father-less, and not by your own wrong-doing.

That gave me courage for the day. Just to know that someone else understands and still loves... is enough for now.

Today was significant.

I spent more money than I'm comfortable with, but it was all on necessities (vet bills, car repairs... those can sure add up!). Got my poor epileptic kitty on meds, which is good, and got de-worming meds and ear mite meds for cats across the board. (That's what was so expensive! Five cats on two different types of medicines?! Gee whilliker!)

I got a lot accomplished at work, and I'm feeling good about the rest of the week. I was daunted by the amount of work my boss seems to think I can accomplish, but I'm beginning to think she might be right. Also, these longer hours are translating to a good paycheck for me later, which I can definitely use.

We had our first practice for the Christmas Concert. I see some bugs that need to be worked out, but I think it will go okay. Our group of kids is so spastic and hyperactive, it's unreal! But, hey, that's what happens when you work with kids, eh? Fortunately, all the parents are on board behind me, so I don't feel quite exactly like I'm drowning. But the thought of trying to iron out any more details is, well... overwhelming. *sigh*

Upon arriving home, I checked my email to find that I'm accepted into the school in California! Whoo! Whoo! Whoo! I made it! :)

That means I'll really and truly be heading down south in just a few short weeks. Eight, to be exact. That's two months. And I know I've been itching to be on my own and independent lately, but today I realized... I need to slow down and enjoy this time here. It's all I've got left. Once it's over, it's over. I'm not coming back, at least not in this same way. I won't be living with the S's anymore. Hmm. What an odd thought. I'm leaving home, for good. (Ahhh!)

Fly free, little birdie.

On another note of craziness... got a text from D last night. Totally unexpected, and the content was more than unexpected. The first thing I see is a gorgeous picture of the sun reflecting off of completely snow-covered mountains rising above a road and a stretch of snow and bare trees. Then, as I scroll down, I read this message:

Working in Valdez, ak. its strange but i have been thinking about u. i know u r what i need. but i cant stop chasing what i want. i think about u a lot and that scares me. u r in my prayers.


Needless to say, I freaked out and ran to C's room so she could pray with me. That helped me re-focus, and I went to bed... but I thought about it throughout the day today. Basically, the conclusion I came to is this: I need to leave him right where I found him-- in the hands of God. I can't do anything about this situation, nor is it my place to. This is something he has to work out between himself, God, and his own heart. So I'm praying for him, but I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing... just being a friend. Praying for him. Going forward with what I feel God is calling me to.

I've learned quite a bit since our breakup, but I know I still have a long way to go.

It's just hard, because... I thought we were done. And now my heart is aching a little again.

Like, seriously... what does that even mean?!


I did reply, though. I didn't just leave him hanging. That would be cruel! I recognize that it took a lot of guts for him to send that. I wrote back:

I thank you for your honesty. i have no idea how to respond to that... i thought we were done, so it's confusing to me. you're in my prayers too.

*sigh* Boys...

As amazing as that may sound, I actually LIKE not having the option of using the internet whenever I want. It helps me be so much more responsible with my time...

Been having struggles trusting God lately. I'm scared... O ye of little faith... but I'm scared that I've misread God's will and I'm doing the wrong thing that he didn't actually want me to do and so he won't take care of me and I'm going to run out of money and have to sell my body on the streets or something (yeah, right) or maybe marry for money... or run out and get a "real" job so I can support myself, because I know that I could, but then the very things that I came back to Idaho for would go by the wayside. I could get a "real" job anywhere. But where, oh where, does God want me to be?...

Struggles breed intimacy, right? So, logically speaking... God and I should be pretty tight by the end of this rough patch. C reminded me that God already set me up with some jobs here real soon that I had (conveniently) forgotten about in my stress and worry.

I hate tires, by the way. They're so darn expensive, and it seems like they ALWAYS give me issues when I'm running low on funds. Oh, wait... I'm never not running low on funds. That's right.

I really, really, really want to trust God with this... but it's hard. I don't want to be a bum, begging off of family and friends. I'll ditch the gardens and get a "real" job before I do that.

I think that I just need to sleep and talk with God some more. Hopefully he'll let me know if I'm on the right track or not.

Well, actually, it's Week Three for me, because we count Staff Training Week as Week One. But it's the second week of having campers.

Both cabins of girls have requested and subsequently loved my playing guitar and singing softly to them while they fall asleep. I don't know what it is, but I guess it's soothing... so it's kind of become my summer camp tradition :)

The improv group that I'm a part of had our first performance on Monday. It was definitely improvisation, because the other activity was cancelled due to rain. We had an hour's notice to pull together some games and get to know each other as actors, since we hadn't worked together as a group before. We spent an hour each day for the next two days working on our improv skills as a group, and though our performance was good (considering the circumstances), we are a lot funnier and smoother now that we've had time to "practice". (Because really, how do you practice improv? You don't. You just prepare, I guess.)

I like my girls in the cabin, but I don't know them very well, because I'm in the kitchen all day, rather than working with the kids. I'm actually kind of liking the setup. I'm not impatient with them, because I haven't been dealing with them all day, so when the other counselors are on their last nerve, I can take over and give them a break. I'm like the on the bench replacement. I think it works okay. I don't know how my fellow counselors feel about it.

I've discovered this week that there is a rather strong undercurrent of discontent that runs through the staff ranks, from kitchen to counselor. I don't talk to the Exec staff hardly at all, but some of my fellow kitchen staff and some of my fellow counselors have opened up to me about their "disgruntlement". I don't blame them. I have some discontent of my own- there are some rather glaring discrepancies that bother me, and I do take issue with some of the ways the camp is run. But I realized this week that it's really not my place to say anything, and voicing that discontent is not going to a.) change anything or b.) make my work environment a happier place... so I keep quiet. Maybe my purpose for being here is to be a Fairy of Good Cheer or something. I mean, not that it doesn't eat at me sometimes, because it does, and I get really irritated... but I'm trying to find reasons to be thankful despite it and in the midst of it.

One thing that bugs me A LOT is the micromanaging, though. I was frosting cinnamon rolls yesterday morning, and the Boss was standing there watching me, and telling me how to do it.

*Point* "Too much frosting there."

(Silently scraping off frosting and relocating it to another cinnamon roll or two)

*Point* "Too much frosting."

(Silently scraping off frosting and redistributing it amongst five other rolls)

*Point*

"I'm working on it."

All the while I'm thinking, Really?! Are you really going to stand there and micromanage my frosting cinnamon rolls? Don't you have a camp to run??

And it's that, compounded with the "we don't want to give the campers a choice or anything fancy or anything nice, really" mindset that bugs me. Because Lord forbid that we put out two colors of juice, because then they might have a choice. Heaven help us if the salad is "too fancy" (meaning more than lettuce, a tomato wedge, and ranch... possibly some croutons or a slice or two of cucumber). And if you commit the unpardonable treason of putting out options for salad dressing, you might as well kiss your job goodbye.

I'm done ranting. But I do get frustrated with the senselessness of it sometimes. Or the obvious favoritism that is displayed at times.

But I'm not here to worry about that. It's hard enough as it is.

I had a hard week. Several nights, I had nightmares, and my emotions went spiraling downhill as a result. Those days were hard. I was glad I had an iPod. My health has been suffering, too. Every time I eat, my intestines start cramping and churning. I don't like it. And many days this week, I've had to stop what I was doing several times and sit down, because I was close to passing out and/or throwing up. The Boss broached the idea of taking a week off to rest... and I was sorely tempted to say, "Yes!" I don't want to lose the money, though, or the respect of my co-workers, and the thought that the week I take off   (or the couple of days) might be the week/days that God had brought me to camp for and I would miss it is enough to knock the idea right out of my head.

I might, though, if my health continues to go down... maybe just 2 days. I could stay at H's.

I actually wasn't sure I was going to make it to my day off. 9 days with no break is... too much. That's why God created a 6-day work week. (Here we are, an Adventist camp, and we're totally doing away with Sabbath rest. How wack is that? But I guess it's necessary for the running of the camp that we work...) But I keep reminding myself that God has me here for a reason... and that's what's kept me here. I wasn't driven to the point of desperation by homesickness, but I was just... ready to be done with this. Ready for a day off, I think.

I have to go pay bills, now, in my few remaining hours of computer possession time.

Despite it all... God is good. He's on the throne. I can make it 4.5 more weeks.

Today is my day off! Woohoo! I'll be heading down the mountain into town in a few minutes.

Yesterday was difficult. After my morning time with God, where he helped me process through the dream and its accompanying emotions, when I had that "battle of the worth"... I was fighting feelings all day.

I was down. It was a hard day. The neat thing, though, is that I knew that, even though I felt down, what God had said to me earlier was true. And I knew that, eventually, these emotions would pass. How I felt that day was not an indicator of how the rest of my life (or even my week!) would be.

Feelings come and  feelings go, and feelings are deceiving.
Trust alone in the word of God- it's something worth believing!
(Thanks, Dr. Nedley, for that neat song.)

Even though I've turned this over to God, it still hurts. It's painful. It feels like the wound had finally scabbed over (again), and God peeled back the scab to deal with the underlying infection. OUCH!

Any time that wound is bumped, it hurts so bad, all the way to my core.

But God is faithful.

Yesterday was difficult, but God is good. That's a good summary of the day.

I got to talk to the family and have worship with them over the phone. That was so nice. I miss them... but the ache is starting to subside. I'm getting used to it, I guess.

And now... to commence the day off... I must Google the shops I want to visit.

The other day, when I was having a DIFFICULT day and just wanted to leave more than anything else, God brought this song to mind. I sang it to myself as I did dishes, and it really helped to encourage me.

Finally! Time to sit down and process through the last couple of days!

Monday, I arrived at the camp, and was immediately put to work in the cafeteria. After supper was over and the kitchen cleaned, then I headed over to my "new" house to move in... but I was waylaid for about half an hour by my friendly neighbor, J, who also happens to be my half-boss.

There is a reason why I'm here before summer camp starts... The story is that there was this guy who worked here at the camp- nice kid. Totally normal. (That's what they always say!) Then, one day, he apparently snapped, shot and killed one of the housekeepers, and was going to kill all the rest of the staff. However, he must have come to his senses, because he turned himself in. After this story got out, camp attendance dropped... drastically. (Uh, yeah!) So, this year, the Boss decided that he needed someone to go around to the different elementary schools and pump up the camp, get the kids excited! That's where I enter the story.

I'm basically here because some guy freaked out and killed someone else here on camp grounds. But here's the best part... My little apartment they gave me to stay in? Yeah, it was the killer's house. D laughed so hard when I told him... he said it was "haunted" (jokingly, of course).

But no one had really even stepped foot in here for about a year and a half, since the guy's parents came to collect his stuff. So it was pretty dirty... and strewn with the carcasses of bugs... and the evidences of mice. So, in between work times yesterday, I scrubbed and swept and vacuumed and aired out the place (which means I essentially worked a twelve hour day yesterday- no wonder it was so hard for me to get up this morning!!)

D called last night, and I was thrilled to hear from him. I had been hoping he'd call. It was a bright hope to look forward to... and it got me through the day. (Odds are he won't call tonight, though. Drat.)

See, the thing is... I don't like working in the kitchen. But, this is where they need me the most, so I'll do it... and God is using it to teach me cheerfulness and thankfulness in spite of circumstances. It's been good, but challenging... and I can't wait for each day to be done.

I made a mistake today in the time I was supposed to come in for lunch prep, so I was fifteen minutes late. Gaaah... Kill me. I hate making mistakes! So I did the dishes as penance. I think I'm the only one who thought of it that way, though :)

I've realized that my being in the kitchen is a witnessing opportunity. It's kind of weird, because I never thought of it that way, until I actually found myself there, but my interactions with the people we feed really can influence their conception of Christians in general, and Adventists in particular. I get the chance to serve them, and to show them Jesus. That applies to my fellow staff, too... so I've been really praying about maintaining cheerfulness.

The funny thing is, the group here now is a rather conservative group (and vegan, which irks the kitchen staff somewhat)... the culture is much the same as SOULS. However, the staff here don't know I'm from that culture, so I get to hear exactly what they think about it without there being any walls of caution there. And, interestingly, the group doesn't realize that I'm "one of them". They think I'm just another staff member. It's like I'm caught between two worlds, but I don't belong to either one any more. I've got an interesting perspective, that's for sure...

One guy, though, pegged me as a SOULSer. He stopped me in the lobby. "You're from SOULS West, aren't you?"

Yes, I am. How did you know?

"I saw you speak at Faith Camp last year."

Oh, really? Yeah, I gave that talk on Ezekiel 28.

"That's right. So you're working here this summer? Good for you!"

It was funny. But it was also sobering, because I realized... people are watching me. So, although I don't really care for the work that I'm doing, I'll do it with a smile... because that's what I want people to see about God- that he's enjoyable.

D helped to encourage me last night. I shared my thoughts about cheerfulness and thankfulness, and what I'm learning, and how I'm choosing to view this thing as one big adventure... but then I also shared my honest opinions. Hehe... they're not necessarily the best. I'm not super impressed. As a matter of fact, I'm not sure I'd work here again. Regardless, I'm here now.

I so appreciate how D can help me to see the positive when I'm overwhelmed with homesickness or fighting discouragement and disillusionment. Because, really, seeing the positive is what's going to get me through this... adventure. If I focus on any or all of the negative things, I will easily be overwhelmed and swept away.

It's pretty obvious that we both desire to be in the same place. I haven't seen him since before I left, which would be two months and some change... and it's going to be many more months till we see each other again. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad for the way things are, and I appreciate what we have, a lot. But I do long to be near him, to see him, and to do stuff together. He said he'll cook me some fish :) But, as Jim Elliot said, "Let not our longing slay the appetite of our living."

Maybe it will be easier when the summer gets going, and I'm distracted by all the kids. (And only able to have my phone once a week.) He's going to send me letters, though. I'm so excited! I love letters :)

I miss my family, too. When I'm in the kitchen snapping peas or chopping yams, I smile to think that I'll be doing that for the family soon. The summer will fly, I'm sure... but I can't wait to go home. (It's been two months already... *sigh*)