So today is the day. I'm headed to the University to see the good ol' doctors and hopefully, hopefully get some answers, maybe move forward an iota in this journey. My friend drove me, and we've been having a grand old time. She's a pretty new friend, but we've bonded quickly and have a lot in common. I really enjoy spending time with her, and she doesn't mind driving me these long distances so it's a really good symbiotic relationship.

It has been so long since I've gotten out of the house and just had fun, but when I'm out on road trips with Cheryl we have fun! Granted, they're medical road trips, but who cares? We went and got pedicures last night after getting into town because I've needed one desperately for some time. The bottoms of my feet and my heels were dried, cracked, peeling and bleeding but I can't reach my feet to take care of them anymore. (I can't soak in the tub any longer either, because I can't get myself up and out; it's too painful and difficult.) I haven't been able to bend like that for some time, just because of the spine and ribcage and stuff, and I have more difficulty bending my knees now. I ask Corey to help me now and then, but he blows me off because he doesn't want to do it, like most of the things I ask him to do for me. Massages are the most frequent request, but he finds them boring and so it doesn't happen. I'm hoping that he can learn to grow and change with the situation and become more proactive, more helpful. When we talk sometimes he says that he doesn't know what to do to help with my pain or other troubles, but that's not the truth. He knows, because I tell him. I ask for things, I don't just assume that he knows what I need. He just… doesn't wanna do it.

Cheryl and I have been talking about a very wide range of things on this trip and I've gotten to vent about the hurt and frustration I'm feeling in this season of life. It's not just one thing, of course, but a whole kaleidoscope of minor and major stings and slashes and bruises. I'm just trying to make things better. I hope it works. The best thing about our conversations that range all over is that not only are we so much alike but she understands from the chronic illness standpoint as well. Her disease came out of a long remission about 4 or 5 years ago, so she's feeling the sting of losing the normalcy and routine of the life that you lived and maybe loved. I'm going on 3 years and I still have a hard time making heads or tails of it. Yes, Friko, there is more to me than illness, but I just live those parts. I don't need to blog about them because they don't cause me pain, I don't need to sort through the feelings. A lot of who I used to be and what I used to do is gone, though, and I'm trying to figure out what fits in the gap. It hit me like a brick last week to realize how dependent I've been forced to become and that just galls. I was such an independent woman, a "doer", a travel across the country by myself, backpacking, hiking, counseling and administrating, housekeeping, job holding person who could drive herself to the store if she needed to. I can't do any of that anymore. I can hardly cook for myself these days, me who used to cook for our family on a daily basis. I'm a damn good cook, but it's too painful and exhausting for me to pull it off any longer.

So all of that is tumbling around in my mind like a rock polisher hard at work as I face this appointment. I have no idea what to expect, but I know what I'm hoping for. If they can actually definitively tell me what disease I have then logically there will be a course of treatment that will help me to at least stabilize, but hopefully to become functional again. That is what I am looking forward to. I resent my dependence and so does Corey. He's resorted to mechanical functioning and nothing I do can bring him out of his shell. He won't even say "I love you" unless I say it first; it's just a response. He doesn't kiss me, I have to go up and kiss him. It's like he doesn't want to interact with me anymore beyond a superficial basis-- I kiss him and tell him I love him when he goes to work, I kiss him and tell him I'm glad he's home when he comes home (all true, by the way). We'll fix ourselves something to eat, watch a few episodes of whatever show we're watching together, take a walk for half an hour or so, and then he retreats to his man cave to play computer games and I do whatever it is I need to do (sleep, read, slowly accomplish some chores) until it's time to go to bed. He doesn't cuddle with me in bed anymore, either. Lately there's been a teeny bit more of that, but it's because I cuddle him, wrapping an arm around him or entwining our feet like we used to do…

I don't know if it's the truth, but I feel like the health and happiness of our marriage is intrinsically tied to the state of my health. If I can get a good diagnosis and course of treatment, I can get somewhat better. Then Corey won't be as stressed or freaked or whatever he is, and he'll return some closeness, maybe? Hopefully? I'm reminded of a time we were talking about something or other and he said, partially in jest I hope/think, "I don't want to deal with cripples," or some such. I just kind of laughed, patted him on the shoulder and told him, "Sweetie… you're married to one."

I tend to get my hopes too far up in the sky and then bemusedly wander around, dripping with my own blood, when those hopes fracture and come crashing down on me to crush and transfix me. It's kind of a weakness. But is a diagnosis of what is clearly a destructive disease really that big of a dream? I mean… shouldn't it just be kind of a realistic thing to expect from life? And so I welcome you to the times and trials of the chronic illness patient.

(If you want to hear a neat song about high hopes, check out Sinatra's song about high, apple pie in the sky hopes. It's adorable.)

Guess what, y'all? It's National Invisible Illness Awareness Week! I'm about half a week late on this, because, guess what else? Yeah, that's right-- I was busy being sick with my invisible illnesses ;) Funny how that works, ain't it?

Anyway, I'll be catching up with a few little things here and there that other bloggers are doing to 'celebrate' this week and to bring awareness to invisible illnesses and what life with them is like, but for now, all I've got is a post from my other blog, the more public one, that gives a little insight into what life is like for the invisibly ill. It's hard to deal with diseases that no one can see, and ones that aren't main-stream, popularly accepted diseases like cancer or ALS or autism. ALS and autism have some symptoms that are on the more visible side, but for the most part they suffer in relative anonymity.

When you have an invisible illness, it's easy to judge and be judged. "But you don't look sick!" I know, I know. In fact, I look pretty good, if you discount the weight gain. (Some would even say that I look better now, with the extra weight and curves, than I did before!) But the suffering is just as real, just as valid, as someone with a broken leg or a shattered spine. My disability is just as devastating and pervasive as anything else you can think of, but I don't have the "legitimacy" of a cast or an IV pole or something tangible that signals I've got a terrible reality squatting on my shoulder at all times. I suppose that I'm "lucky" in that I need my walker, the Bling Chariot, to get around outdoors because it lends me an air of disability that wouldn't be there if I simply limped around and sat whenever I got the chance. People often ask me if I've had surgery or injured my leg somehow, though. When you see an otherwise healthy looking young woman your first thought will probably not be, "I wonder if she is dealing with crippling physical symptoms that have totally devastated her ability to participate in society in a regular manner?" I think that now, when I see people with a particular gait or look on their face. I watch people much more closely now, and I understand a bit more than I did previously, but here's the thing: until you or someone you love has experienced something, you just aren't going to think about it. You don't know, you don't know a damn thing, and you really can't. And you know what? That's okay. That's okay because how could you possibly, unless someone explains it to you?

That's the whole point of Awareness Weeks. People don't know, they don't understand, because it's not visible and it's not obvious and if you haven't had experience with it you could never, ever guess what it's like and what we face. I didn't know. I'd never heard of fibromyalgia or chronic pain or connective tissue disease or Addison's or thyroiditis until they all happened to me. Food allergies I'd heard of, in passing, but I didn't know anything about them until I was forced to, for my own survival. I was told by a doctor yesterday that I am one of the most well-educated patients she's met, and though it's not the first time I've been told that by a medical professional it always shocks me. Shouldn't at least the people who have the diseases care? Shouldn't they want to know, to learn, to be as in control of these crazy diseases as you can via knowledge? But apparently many choose the path of ignorance, even when their very own body is on the line.

In closing, I can tell you that some of the most moving and profoundly meaningful things I've heard since I got sick came from family and friends who have told me that when they learned the name of what I have, they went and researched to understand it better, to understand me and my new reality better. My friend, The Artist, shares stories with me about how she defends me to friends of hers that see my comments and posts on Facebook through her account and question the veracity and legitimacy of my claims. Am I faking it for attention? Exaggerating? Fibromyalgia is just a "throw away" diagnosis; it means the doctors don't know what it is and they tell you that to keep you happy. She's probably not as sick as she claims to be. And so on. But this girl stands up for me, she calls these friends of hers out, and she shares what she's learned from me and from her own research and she shuts those kids the hell up! And it melts my heart with gratitude and something more, every time. It reaffirms my value as a person, as a friend, and her trust in me and the self that I present to the world. In short, her bringing awareness to others on my behalf validates me entirely, and our friendship to boot. It totally almost makes me cry every time I hear about it.

Personally, I think that's how awareness spreads the best-- through the personal connections. I am not going to stop sharing the hell out of articles and pictures and blog posts on Facebook, but it's the personal connection I have with my friends that makes them want to read the articles, to learn more, and to pass on the information to others when they hear ill-informed opinions being bandied about. Truthfully… I'm super humbled by the friends that have stepped forward to be by my side for this lifelong fight I'm enlisted in. There's no way, absolutely no friggin' way, that I could do this well in isolation.

With that in mind, happy National Invisible Illness Awareness Week! May our friendships and relationships be sturdy and true, and may they lead to greater awareness in others… and within ourselves.

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.

The weekend I have planned:

Saturday
-Watch movie and make DV vigil ribbons
-Visit the library and get more movies
-Skype with J
-Doll myself up, take photographs with a sign for a friend
-Play with kitties
-Go to Classics By Moonlight concert (classical music outdoors by the light of the full moon!!!)

Sunday
-Browse the newly opened Farmer's Market
-Tidy the house
-Watch movie, make more ribbons if need be, make earrings if not.
-Play with kitties
-Skype with J?
-Call my mom
-Give kitties a bath

The weekend as it will probably go down:

Saturday
-Watch movie, make a few vigil ribbons
-Skype with J
-Doll myself up, take photographs
-Concert
-Hold down couch/bed/pay for the active day

Sunday
-Pay for Saturday
-Play with kitties
-Watch movie
-Hold down couch/bed/continue to pay

Thank the high heavens that my GP gave me a script for pain meds, because even after 3 days in a row of contacting my rheum I never heard back from her. This, after she has told me two visits in a row that if I'm having a hard time in between visits with my pain or going into crisis not to self-medicate but to call her. Hmm. It was going to be a special kind of hell, going into the super busy DV vigil week with all of my speaking engagements and such with no pain killers.

(I was worried about not being able to get it filled, like that whole fiasco I had a couple of months back, but they filled it with no problems and no questions. I hate going for pain pill refills because I always have this horrible feeling (not from anything they do, really, just because) of being a druggie and that they're going to refuse me my meds and I'm going to have to try to eke out an existence without them... and the thought is absolutely horrifying. I think it has to do with my experience with that jerk pharmacist who wouldn't fill my prescription even though he was supposed to. He is the head pharmacist of that place, so he's god apparently... I really dislike him. Clearly.)

Anyway, here's an excerpt from an email I wrote J in the wee hours of the morning. It's nice to know that even delirious from lack of sleep (couldn't sleep 'cause pain and ptsd stuff), I can form intelligent run-on sentences. :)

"But when I visited my general practitioner today, we had a really good conversation. She brought out the connection between my autoimmune diseases and my insufficient adrenals, telling me that the insufficient adrenals makes it harder for me to fight the autoimmune stuff, and also the meds to fight the immune stuff are immune suppressants, and my body has a hard time handling that because it's already deficient in stress-handling materials. Also, she pointed out that my weight gain can partially be attributed to the steroids that I'm on for the adrenals (which I can't get off of, handily enough, or it could make me seeeeriously sick-- I should be getting my medic alert bracelet for adrenal insufficiency, food and adhesive allergies soon!) and the fact that I'm now pretty much completely sedentary due to the pain. The meds have some to do with it, but the sedentary lifestyle is the bigger part. She did make it a point to emphasize that I'm still within healthy BMI limits, just heavier than I was a year ago by 30 lbs. She completely believes me about the autoimmune (and brings it up and points out connections between symptoms at every single appointment), supports me in my decision to switch rheumatologists (she even said that she hopes this new doctor is more aggressive in treating my autoimmune problems because we can't just hang on to an undiagnosed connective tissue disease label forever and call it good, especially since I'm just continuing to decline and not even in a holding pattern), and told me that I've had a special place in her heart ever since she first saw me because I'm so young and suffering from so many different problems. 

It really just kills her that I'm in so much pain and so sick at this stage in my life. She travels a lot, so I think she is looking at me and seeing my opportunities for adventure completely disappeared, much less a typical fulfilling life for a twenty-something... you know, a family and work and such. I really enjoy visiting her, because she genuinely cares and really wants to do everything in her power to figure out what's wrong and to help make it right. That's what I want out of a rheumatologist, but I'm not getting. She even said that my symptoms and diseases are beyond her scope of practice, but she'd help me if she could. I wish she could. She was the one who discovered that my titers were elevated ("very high!") and sent me off to the rheum where I got my fibro diagnosis right off the bat. She's been the aggressive tester and treater, and I hardly ever see her. My endocrinologist is a religious tester as well, and I only see her every 2 or 3 months. I get more tests done from these two than I have my entire year with the rheum, and they're supposed to be the ones figuring out what the heck is wrong with me! Shoot, I saw the neurologist all of two times, and he did more tests than the rheum had in the entire year to figure out the problem. Why did I not see this sooner? I guess I just like to assume the best about people, assume that they're working to their utmost capacity... I sure hope this new practice accepts me. They can decline me, after all."

I think that says it all. Very wordily.

I'm lying here, in a world of hurt, contemplating tomorrow.

I don't understand why my pain has just been getting worse and worse, but I'm hopeful (and fearful) that tomorrow will hold answers for me. Well, truthfully, no matter what the tests say I will have answers. Either I have MS or I don't. Either it's lupus or it's not. Either they see something wrong with me or they don't. Either we know what's killing me slowly or we know to look somewhere else, to some other solution.

C seems pleased at my efforts to be healthy and live a full life in spite of the pain and sickness. We took the snake for a walk tonight, and we walked all the way down the block to the canal, then followed that down to the main road before we retraced our steps. I'm proud of myself. I've made it a goal to take a walk every other night, and C is supportive of that. I love taking walks with him, and there's no point in walking during the heat of the day anyway, so I may as well wait for him to get home before I go out.

I worked several hours today and accomplished a great deal, more than E thought I would. She had to go out and run some errands so I finished the tasks she needed done that day and just kept going with filing and other projects that have been lying around for a while. I've got more phone calls and stuff to make tomorrow, but the good news is that the board approved an hour increase for me, so I can work up to 8 hours a week now! That is, if I can physically handle it, of course. But I really want to try to maintain 8 hours a week. Not only can I use the money, but it is also good for my peace of mind and my sense of industry.

As much as I'm involved in the HJ these days, it came as a funny realization to me today that I really don't feel the need to attend the sexual assault support group for myself anymore. At least, not right now. I'm in a good place, I've got good coping mechanisms and healthy tools in my toolbox, and I'm in a pretty steady place in my life. In addition, most of my energy is focused on the fight for my physical health these days, and my emotional health is not the main priority for healing any longer. I'm sure I'll still pop in from time to time, and there may be a time when I need to go back in a more long-term fashion, but... I guess I've moved to a new place in my healing journey, one where I can give support as well as receive it. I am getting support from places other than group now, and it's enough for me.

It's funny... I was musing today that I have gained a lot from my battle with chronic illness. I've grown a lot as a person, my perspective on life has been refined and tempered, and I am much more intentional in my relationships and my lifestyle. My support network has been finely crystallized into a distinct entity, whereas before I just had... friends. I've learned a lot about boundaries and humility and accepting care from others. I've learned a lot about letting others care for me as a friend, and how to care for others in a truly open way. I've learned even more about taking care of myself in all aspects, and I've learned how to listen to myself. (Mostly.)

So no matter what answers (or lack thereof) tomorrow brings, it's just another step in this rich, tumultuous journey that I'm on. I'm grateful for it... but sometimes I wish it hurt less. In so many ways.

Good things have happened, as well as sad things. I'll write about my birthday and house stuff tomorrow, because I'm busy with other stuff right now.

I just wanted to note that I'm being rather strongly encouraged from various sources (who know nothing of one another) to take my writing seriously, and to take my unique perspective on chronic illnesses seriously, and to do something with them that will help the world.

This means a website/blog.

Yeah, well, I feel pretty thoroughly inadequate for such a task as that. I mean, who would want to read my stuff? I'm just a lady who has problems and likes to write about stuff. Is it really worth sharing with the world? Could I really make any difference at all? Is it just delusions of grandeur, just pride and misguided intentions leading me to overstep my bounds?

Yet I am assured by my friends sitting in the living room with me that, even if something has been said a million times before, everyone relates to it in a different way. The way that I state something may be just the thing someone needs to have an "aha!" moment, when they had read the same thing written by someone else and had no response whatsoever. It's true. I know it's true.

I'm just so scared of failure... of putting myself out there and being shot down.

Scared of dreaming big.

Scared of doing something that matters.

Scared of wanting to make a difference and realizing that I can't.

Scared of being weighed and found wanting.

'Cause really? I love to help people. And I love to write. How could I  not want to combine those two loves?

Because when you put all your eggs in one basket, you run the risk of them being crushed.

Ah, well, no use running over and over my fears. I'm scared, it's true.

But I'm also very desirous of pursuing this opportunity... I mean, is it just coincidence that I'm being encouraged from so many sides so strongly, so seemingly suddenly?

My friends have come up with a domain name for me-- Fibro Warrior Princess. It's a nickname they bestowed up on me, and I love it. Then they said I ought to use it as a domain name.

You know what?

I think I'm totally going to go for it.

Watch out, world-- the Princess is on the loose! ^_^

Oh, yes, did I also mention that I'm engaged now? I mean like, officially officially. As in, he got down on his knees and all that :)

I believe a backstory is called for, yes?

This morning as I was getting ready for school, I went to go put my ring on. Much to my shock, surprise, and dismay... the little white box wasn't where it usually was. Figuring C must have moved it somewhere, I made a mental note to ask him about it later and grabbed my celtic medallion instead.

I was doing work/homework when C got home tonight, but I put it aside and followed him into the bedroom for some quality time/conversation, as I usually do. Amidst playful banter and stories about my professor, I asked him what he had done with my ring. Of course, he pretended to not know what ring I was talking about, or what I was talking about at all! Naturally, I plied him with questions as to why in the world would he hide my ring?!

So, here's the set of the scene-- he's gotten up from the bed where we were nestled cozily and swung himself into his big computer chair, and I'm sprawled across the covers facing him. He won't tell me where it is ("I guess you'll just have to find it!"), but he does crack a few jokes about thinking about being super devious and switching out the ring in the box for a different, older ring (one that doesn't even fit anymore!), about hiding it partially to see how nuts I would go looking for it. He didn't make it hard to find, though. As he swiveled around in his chair, it was plain to see that the little white box was sitting on top of the low bookshelf behind him, blending in with the white wall behind and the white alarm clock next to it.

"I found it!" (In my defense, it was dark in the room this morning. And I had to hit the door or I would be late. No time for a hunt.)

He picked up the little white box, opened the lid, and spent a few moments in quiet contemplation. Then he looked up at me, a funny expression on his face. I couldn't stop the excitement from rising within me as he slid to his knees, stating that he wanted to make it official. He pulled the ring from the box, took my hand, and as he slid the ring on my finger (after I showed him the right hand to put it on lol) said, "I do want to marry you. I love you." He was gazing into my eyes with this super melty, super lovingly intense look.

I replied, "I want to marry you too. I love you."

It's all kind of a blur, really. That's as specific as I can make it, and I'm not even sure I got the right phrases in the right places or the precise sequence of events. It doesn't really matter, I think. I just want to remember the sweetness of the moment, the silly grin on his face and how he was practically giggling at the fact that we're engaged! I was totally silly, too, grinning like a fool and kicking my heels.

Me: Wait, so... you really just proposed to me?
C: I assume so. I'm pretty sure that's what that was.
Me: Squeeeeee! *huge grin*
C: *goofy grin*

C: Now you can show off to all your friends.
Me: ... You know me too well.

C: I'm glad you're back.
Me: Me too.

So why'd he hide my ring? Because he wanted to give it back to me before I "stole" it again! Hah!

He was planning on taking me out to our special lake, "stealing" his dad's boat, and having the guys disguised in the boat with signs. As they went past, he would point the boat out to me, and the guys would be holding signs that said, "MARRY HIM!!!" However, I was out of town this last weekend, and he just couldn't wait, so he did it tonight.

You know what? I'm not disappointed. Not at all. It was so... us. So him. So sweet and simple and just a genuine outpouring of love.

He said that he was waiting until I stopped expecting it. As we all know, that only happened like, a week ago! Hence the "delay".

*Sigh*

I have found the one whom my soul loves. And I guess he liked it 'cause he put a ring on it.

Squeeeeee!

J came and stayed with me for a couple of days. It was real nice- reminiscent of our roommate days :)

Mostly, I think we just laughed and ate. Oh, and teased each other about boys. (Ahem, sorry-- young men.)

I got in touch with the school I'll be going to, because I need to begin figuring out finances and whatnot. I found out from the finance director that there is a course beginning in July, the very course I want to take! So, I thought about it briefly, did some date figuring, and decided to go for it!

That means I'll be visiting ID in about 6 weeks, rather than 2 months and some change. I've found a few interesting ways to make money- we'll see how they pan out. I'm not going to worry about it, because it's Sabbath now.

The bummer mcgummer is that C won't be able to travel with me, because it's too short of notice. He can't get the time off. I really want to take him up there, but to postpone school 'till September when I could begin in July, just for the sake of a roadtrip... that seems pretty silly to me.

And it's funny, how the obstacles for this timing seem to have fallen away before I even so much as knew about it. Like, the very day classes start is the day that we were supposed to be hiking Mt. Whitney. However, we didn't get picked in the "lottery", so that's out. (That would have been a major objection for me, and probably have induced me to wait until September.)

And when I was speaking with yet another J this evening, the new dates for me to go up there slip perfectly in between all the weekends that they're going to be gone. I got the only one they'll be home! (Triumph! hehe)

It's like God's setting me up or something... and I didn't even see it until today.

FB is back in the office this Mon, so I'll be contacting him about the p-m counseling.

My own counseling begins in a week and some change.

Things... are looking up.

This coming week I'm going to P with Gramma, and I'm going to sand down and re-paint the bedroom set here in the spare/my bedroom. I figure... I've got time on my hands. :)

Oh... and I gave away Petra. To the Humane Society. She was adorable, and I loved her, but it's the best thing. I know she'll get snatched up, 'cause she's so unbelievably cute!

Whew. This is starting to go fast. Time is going to fly...

I got the flu. It was pretty awful the first night, got somewhat better the next day, and today I'm doing even better. Still not "better" better, but better... if that makes sense. :)

I spent yesterday lying in bed, watching movies on my computer. They're all those "Feature Family Films" movies, because my gramma collects them, and it seems that they were all set back in the 50's for some reason.

They're all about love, and faith, and family. It was neat. Kinda like how country music used to be.

And you know what? I had to come face to face with this notion in my head that somehow I don't deserve love like everyone else. I mean, I was pretty out of it yesterday, so I didn't delve into the subject too deeply, but I challenged the idea.

And I wonder, I really wonder, if that's what I'm so afraid about with romantic relationships. I'm really scared of meeting someone amazing, because I don't feel that I'm worth someone amazing. J tells me that I am amazing, and deserve someone awesome (better than D, she says lol), but the thought scares me. Not to mention the transiency of all we experience in this world.... I mean, truly, life, love, youth-- they can all be snatched away in an instant, in the time it takes to draw a breath. And that is scary, too. Because what if I let down my guard and become truly, deeply committed to and in love with someone and then they're taken away?

I do wonder, which hurts worse-- unrequited love, or love lost? I've been through both, I guess, so it seems to me that love lost hurts worse, and lingers longer.

But I do deserve to be loved. I do. Just as much as anyone else. I don't deserve to be ignored. I don't deserve to be hurt. I deserve to be respected and valued and cherished, just like any woman. I'm through poking around trash heaps for treasure. I'm done settling because I'm afraid. I'm done hoping that any old guy will take me, because I don't feel like I have anything to offer.

No way. I have potential. I have strength. I have talents and skills and intelligence. I have a love for God that will carry me through tough times.

I am a valuable asset.

Now... I just hope someone else will agree with me! I don't want to end up a haughty old maid.

...I decided that, after massage school, I wanted to go to school for neurobiology and/or counseling?

Oh, that would be so much fun... such a challenge... Neurochemicals fascinate and excite me. For instance, the book "Hooked" is quickly becoming one of my favorites.

Hmm... what if?

Today... was a good day. Yeah, it was.

As I learn more about free choice and personal responsibility, it becomes easier to spend time with my family. As I told my sis, J, though... I don't want to live here full-time. The family's just still too... dysfunctional?... for that. But that's okay. God's working with us. He's healing, I know he is. I can see it.

So we got up late, and ate breakfast around 11. I made tahini-basil polenta, R made coffee-cake, Mom fried up some chicken and beef bacon, and we had some fruit.

Then we sorta tidied up (sorta! lol) and headed into the living room for gift opening. I think we probably got started on them around noon, and we got done around two. Our family has a tradition of going around the circle, youngest to oldest, each person opening one gift at a time. That way the entire family can appreciate the gift and the giver... and the reaction :)

I received many lovely gifts (I had the most out of everyone! Everyone else finished opening theirs, and I still had a whole stack to go. A little ironic, since I'm the one that dislikes money spent on me the most lol), and they're pretty much all practical. Jr. got me a set of matryoshka (Russian nesting doll) measuring cups that are SO CUTE! And Mom and R got me a set of teeny, stacking measuring spoons that are just perfect. I got face wash and body spray, a couple of cookbooks dedicated exclusively to soups (I love soup!), a jar of Amish Apple Butter, a notebook, a cluster of colored pencils made out of sticks, some sticky notes that look like an apple (quite clever!), a hat/scarf set in grey, foot-pampering lotion and soak from Mary Kay, a miniature hot glue gun, some ink for my fountain pen, and a button/pin that says "Meh." on it :) Oh, yes, and the piece de resistance, a Swedish Chef plush doll!! Yay! I had a Swedish Chef, but he mysteriously disappeared during one of my many moves. I don't know what happened to him, quite frankly. I know he's not at C's, but he's just... gone. :( But now he has been replaced! I'm so happy :)

I asked Mom if perhaps, next year, she and R would consider getting me just one or two things (since gifts are her love language, and she would be most unhappy if I didn't accept anything from her) and then donate to a couple of charities of my choice in my name? She said she thinks that would be okay, so that's a hopeful thing to look forward to for me. I choose Amazima and Crystal Peaks Youth Ranch.

After presents, we pulled out The Game of Life that K had gotten, and played a game. I ended up making potato tacos in the middle of it, but it was a long game! Fun, though. I look forward to trying it again. Mom popped their turkey in the oven mid-afternoon, and we had a "fancy" Christmas supper, complete with nice plates and wine glasses- turkey, stuffing, broccoli, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes and gravy, dinner rolls, and perch for me. (I've never had perch before, but it was really good!!!) Oh, yes, and Martinelli's sparkling apple cider. No festive occasion is complete without Martinelli's.

Then we had dessert while watching Horton Hears A Who. The fam had pumpkin pie, I had mint chocolate chip coconut ice cream. Mmmmm.... Then the kids started playing Call of Duty again, and I pulled out the Count of Monte Cristo for some quality time with Edmond Dantes.

I've realized, upon being here... my family has contributed in a great way to the development of my personality. I mean, really. It's so strange being around 5 other people who crack jokes like I do, who goof around like I do, who quote movies and break into song like I do... I mean, I fit. This is where it came from. It's a trip... and yet, very refreshing and calming. Wow, I'm not the only one! I don't agree with all the humor, of course, and they know that, but they're good about keeping it clean for me.

R mentioned on the way home from the airport that he wants to talk to me about school. He's not aware of any of the details of my plans, just vague generalities. He didn't even know it was a two-year associate's program. But he did throw out this suggestion (which I promptly dismissed as not an option)- if I wanted to stay in Y and go to AWC for a degree in social work, staying with my grandparents, he and Mom could probably cover my tuition.

Whoa, hello! What an offer! But I told him I didn't want to, partially because I want to try to do this myself, you know? And partly because I know they're struggling financially already, and I will not impose the burden of my education upon them.

Right. He did say, however, that I could pay them back afterward, like a school loan, and, quite frankly, I'd rather be indebted to my kin than the government or a large, capitalist establishment. So I told him, why don't you just pay my way through massage school?! LOL. That's when it came out that he didn't realize what course of study I was pursuing, exactly, so he said we'd talk about it later, as we had arrived at the house and Mom was impatiently awaiting my departure from the truck. We haven't had a chance to talk about it yet, but we will. He won't forget that discussion, and neither will I. We shall see.

I still fully intend to go to this massage school come September.

Another opportunity arose, though, when a friend of mine called me up and said I should come work on a farm in eastern Az until school starts. Wouldn't that be super cool?! But the draw of working with the Healing Journey is just so powerful that I can't dismiss it, nor do I want to. I am toying with the idea, though, of going for a month this summer, like July. J will be there too, and that would be a super awesome aggie party- roomies reunited. Bliss. JC will be there, too, and we've always gotten along well. He's a neat guy, and we have fun. Plus the O's are there, and that's, of course, a huge draw.

Food would be, of course, my big concern (as always). It's hard to work with an operation like that and find time to prepare special meals. :-[ The curse of my life... (although, I have found that having food allergies has really helped me make healthier food choices. A lot of times, even though I want something, I simply can't have it, and that makes saying "No" infinitely easier. Somehow, I need more severe ramifications than a ruffled conscience.)

It is now 4 am. I think I should fall asleep now. I haven't stayed up this late in a very long time... especially when nothing is wrong. Usually, it's when I'm having a battle with darkness that I'm up all night. Tonight, though... I just didn't feel like sleeping.

Talked to my grandparents- they'd LOVE to have me for many moons. :)

As I told my grampa, going to this school is not a matter of "if", but "when"-- will I go in January, or will I wait until September? As I told the family at the dinner table, when you think about it, 9 months is not a big chunk of time. In the grand scheme of things, this decision really isn't a huge one. It could change my life forever... but then again, it probably won't.

Turning left at the stop-sign instead of right could maneuver me away from a potential fatal car accident, but do I know that? No. Life altering decisions are usually not conscious ones, I think.

However, I have a place to stay in SoCal now, if I choose to go in Jan. That's nice.

Here are my lists...

Sept- Pros
-Housing in Y
-Healing Journey
-Experience working w/support group
-Time to work out finances, save $
-Day classes
-Less time crunch
-Less gas $ to get down there
-Able to re-apply for FAFSA as an independent
-Able to apply for WISP scholarship
-Transition time
-Free piano lessons from a good teacher (my Gramma!)
-Don't have to re-apply to school

Sept- Cons
-Uncertain job situation (can I get one while there?)
-Heat!
-Changing plans... again.
-Old friends around (C, namely)

Jan- Pros
-Housing
-"Needed"
-No delay
-No "going back on my word"
-Close to friends
-Can go ahead and come- don't need loans to get a place to live anymore

Jan- Cons
-Uncertain job situation
-Go straight into "life" with no finances- living hand to mouth, paycheck to paycheck, or living off loans
-Heat!
-Evening classes

Hmm. Now, time to pray. Lord, what would you have me to do?

Coming down to the wire. I'm packing my room, and it's a total mess. It's driving me nuts. But I'm getting rid of a lot of stuff, downsizing again.

I just may be able to fit all my possessions in my Buick again. That'd be nice.

I don't like the feeling of having more stuff than I can take with me.

I've got a lot going on right now, besides just school. That Christmas Concert is becoming a love-hate engagement. Who knew it took so much work to plan even a simple event? *sigh*

And Adventurers is a lot of work. Honestly, I'm glad I'm leaving. It gives me a chance to step out gracefully, because there's really no one else around who would/could help out. Ahh, the challenges of a small church... It'll be SO different down south. There are more churches than you can shake a stick at, and many of them have Sabbath school classes the size of our entire church!

I don't think I'm working at the bakery this week. Mixed blessing. I sure could use the cash, but the Lord blessed last payday, and I had enough to buy Christmas gifts, which I wasn't sure I would. I've got a housecleaning job after I get back from WI that should net me about a hundred bucks. I keep forgetting that I'm used to calculating gas for a round trip to and from Cali, but this time, it's a one-way. So that hundred bucks might actually get me there.

If not, I mean, I can always panhandle for a while, right? ;)

I guess the reality is finally setting in that I'm leaving, and I'm excited/dreading it. I mean, it's always exciting, moving on to the "next thing", but I know that the grass really isn't any greener on the other side, and life is not a bed of roses. I'll have struggles and pains and worries, and this time I won't have a family around me. It'll just be me. No buffer. Just me and God against the world.

On the other hand, I'm getting restless. I catch myself thinking (especially when I'm annoyed about something), "Yeah, just wait. I'll be outta here soon. Just a little longer..."

There's so much I'll miss, though. I love this place. Idaho has captured my heart. The people have won my admiration, respect, and loyalty. (And, at times, bemusement.)

If it's up to me, I'll be back.

But on the other hand... what if there's somewhere else equally amazing out there?

I've begun compiling a list of the adventures I'd like to have, including but not limited to:

-Hiking Half Dome
-Visiting all 7 of the 7 Wonders of North America (still)
-Hiking Mt. Whitney
-Backpacking across Az
-Taking a summer to backpack across the U.S. and see how far I get
-Visit Alaska
-Go hiking and dog sledding in Alaska
-Paint balling with K
Etc.

I can't remember them all right now.

Regardless... I'm ready for another adventure. The drive to WI really revved me up. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and I loved the independence of it. I'm not scared to travel by myself. I've been doing it for years. (Although... it is nice to have a traveling buddy, but one of the same mindset.)

This song has been running through my head lately.

I'm gonna go pack up some more of my room.

The walls and dressers are so bare... it doesn't look like anyone lives here anymore. :(

Where do I start in processing through all the events of late?

Campmeeting was great. It helped me a lot in my consideration and study of the OT feasts. I used to think that feast-keepers were crazy weirdos, but now I realize that they are not. They're really sincere in following God's will as expressed in Scripture, and I really admire them for that. I loved how the studies and talks presented really illuminated God's character further, and even the cross. I didn't think that would be the case-- I was hesitant about the whole thing. But, it proved to be a blessing. I wonder where my studies will lead me?

The S family is so inclusive and warm-- I love it! I got to meet D's side of the family for the big birthday party in his honor (and because he has cancer, it was a kind of "just in case we don't get to see you again" get together). I got to meet a lot of his friends from the olden days (when they were my age), and it was great to see them all interact. We pulled out our guitars and jammed together-- what a blast! I love music.

I visited another massage school down here, one run by people of my denomination. I'm really, really leaning towards it, which is ironic, because I didn't even want to go check it out. I kind of did it as a favor for C. I wasn't thrilled about it, just by looking at the website... I guess I had set my heart on going somewhere where no one knows me, and I don't have the pressure of living up to expectations... Although, the churchgoers in this area are so liberal, I probably wouldn't have to worry about that. Aaaaaand, I'm supposed to be learning about not judging myself according to my perception of other's expectations and trying to act a certain way just because I think that it's expected of me... *Sigh* Easier said than done. Anyway, this school intrigues me, and the director and I really clicked. I've got my lists of pros and cons, I'm praying like crazy, and as I work through this, I think... I'd be kind of foolish to walk away from this school without some serious reasons for turning it down.

Hmm. Oh, yes! Healing Journey wants to give me a scholarship! Yeehaw! We'll see how that works out-- I'm not hanging anything on it just yet, but I'm excited about the prospect. I need to decide what school I'm going to, first. I should have a decision in a week or two at the most. My folks need to know what my sched will be like so we can buy a ticket for me to come visit for Christmas.

J is shocked that I will be making such a decision so quickly. It took her three years to decide where to go to school, what to take, etc. I mean, this decision of mine has been a process of several months, one step at a time, but it's significantly faster than her decision making process. We're just very different in that way. Very, very different. Hehe.

Some friends of mine down here in southern CA have invited me to go canvassing with them tomorrow. Eeep, is all I can say. I want to hang out with them, but I really don't want to go canvassing. We'll see. I just had a convo with JC about canvassing, and both of us not wanting it to have "beaten" us. I almost want to go just to prove to myself that I can, you know? Sort of a "face my fears" type thing... but I know that's not the right motive. Plus, I still really, really don't want to. So if I do, I'll probably just sit in the car or something. Maybe accompany someone else as they're at doors. It's a start.

Some friends of D and C's are taking us out to Indian food tonight. I know for a fact that Indian food contains garlic. I've decided to just bite the bullet and try it. If I perish, I perish. I'm tired of making a big deal about food. *sigh*

Anyway, this trip has been good. I'm very glad that I came. I was unsure of how things would turn out, but, yes, I'm glad I came.

JC has been calling me much of late. I wonder what that means? I think I need to set a boundary on the amount that we talk. I'm glad to have him as a friend, but I'm not interested in a repeat of the Awkward Saga. I know what can happen when you talk too much to a single guy, when you're too vulnerable... and JC and I have this wonderful friendship where we're able to be very truthful and open with each other. Dangerous stuff.

The fam jokes that, if I came down here (to an Adventist mecca), that I'd probably wind up married with a baby, and it'll all be over. I'll say the thought crossed my mind, but I have come to the conclusion that I'm not ready to be married. I've got growing to do... I listened to a sermon by David Asscherick called Hitchhiking For Love that really helped me see with greater clarity some things I'd realized after the break with D. I mean, yeah, I've got the skills it takes to take care of a household, but I'm not the person I need to be yet. I need more time.

That's hard to take, because I want to be in a loving relationship. I really do. I want what I see that D and C have. I want what I see a few other people have... but in the right time. It's hard, but it's better this way.

I'm learning so much from this processing through my relationship with D! Maybe this is what God had in mind when he directed us together?

Life... it moves on, regardless. I'm so glad that God is directing my footsteps. He will open and close the doors for me to walk through.

God, I just so don't know what to do or which way to turn.

Yes, okay. I'm moving out in January. But where am I going?

Do I stay in the area? March, for sure, is the cut-off date for my leaving the area. I'm going to massage college.

But why not in January?

Because of the Healing Journey, that's why. And I want to spend my birthday with my friends, that's why. Because I'm probably not moving back here once I leave, that's why.

And the Indiana idea sounds good, but the only school close by is super new-agey! Exactly what I'm trying to avoid!

The Colorado school still intrigues me, but I'm worried by their lack of flexibility when it comes to my comfort level in massaging guys, and Sabbath.

I still need to call the school in Portland.

Hmm.

I'm way more interested in the schools in Portland/Salem and Denver than the one in Warsaw. The ONLY attraction I have in the Indiana direction is that it's within a day's drive of my family... eh, that is, my biological family. :)

God, which way do I turn? What is the right way? What is the path I am to walk? Which is the right school for me?

You have promised to guide me with your eye. You said that if I lean on you and not my own understanding, my paths will be made straight. That's great-- I have no understanding right now! lol

So... what do I do? Which way do I turn? What to do? What to do?

And what's the stinkin' point of starting the Healing Journey if I'm just taking off to school in January, anyway?!

I so thought I was doing the right thing. Ugh.

But, on a brighter note... thank you for this confusion that drives me to you. If I knew everything precisely when I think I'd like to know it, I can say that I would certainly feel no need for your superior wisdom :) And... thank you for fried green tomatoes. They make my taste buds happy, even if they're not the best for me.

I've come to the point where I'm suspicious of good things. Not all good things, mind you, but things that just seem to be so good and to fit so right... that's what I thought about the summer camp I worked at. It's perfect! I'm so excited! But people can portray reality any which way they want when you don't know them, and it can wind up being a foretaste of hell.

However, that foretaste imbued me with a strength that I would not have gotten any other way. It is from that experience that I realize, I am strong. I can survive. Sure, I fell apart somewhat during the summer (the S's and D know the full extent of that), but I learned. I've grown.

But, man, I sure don't want to make that mistake again!! I'd rather things go well, quite frankly. I can learn without agony of soul and body, thankyouverymuch.

So, I'm researching massage colleges, and there's one that's captivated my interest. It seems so good, just what I want, in a state that I'd like to live in, not saturated with New Age beliefs, and the lady I talked to was so very nice to me. We clicked well.

I'm just afraid to take that leap, to move forward into the unknown, and... totally hate my decision. I'm afraid it will collapse around my ears.

I suppose the question is, does God dictate our moves to us? How do I know God's leading me? Eh? Because, as usual, I'm afraid to make the wrong choice. :)

And, on a totally different and unrelated note-- I'm SO HUNGRY! 7 days of fasting. I can't wait to start eating again. Tomorrow! Tomorrow! It has never been such a sweet word.

Oh, yeah, and one more thing... Why not do the support group? My counselor challenged me on that. If I have the capabilities to help someone while I'm still here, why not? Why put it off? Why wait? I... don't have a good reason, really, just thinking that it might not be the best to start something I can't finish. After all, I'd planned on facilitating it for a whole year. Now, it looks as though I'll be leaving March/April. That's only 5 or 6 months. But those months could mean the world to someone. I'm gonna do it.

Have you ever been rather certain of something, and yet you do not want to advertise the certain-ness for fear that you are not, in fact, totally certain, and that you will end up looking like a fool?

Yup, I'm in that quandary. I'm praying and praying that God will guide me, show me whether this certainty stems from him or from my own misguided ideas, and, well, I know I'll be making up my mind soon one way or another. I know myself- I'm not one for protracted examination of... anything. I make decisions fast. (Relatively.) My dad, now, he'll research something into the ground before he makes a decision. I'm better about researching my decisions now than I ever was before. But I'm still a rather rapid decision maker. I'll agonize over my choices intensely, but when I come to a decision, I want to get on with things. NOW! lol

Anyway, that's just a private storm brewing in the recesses of my mind. I'll probably have made my mental choice one way or another (for now) by this time next week.

Ahhh... don't you wish you knew what I was alluding to? :)

J's right. I'm impulsive. I swing from one thing to another quickly. Is that a bad thing?

I just feel something in the air... change. It's coming. Something is going to change, in a big way, and soon. I don't know what it is, but I feel it coming. God's preparing me for... something.

In a way, I'm trepidatious, like, "Does this mean that I'm not going to be able to do my support group after all? After setting everything up? Or does it mean that I'm only going to be able to do it for a few months? Isn't that technically failure?"

Because here I've thought that the very fact that God's opening doors for this group is proof that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, doing what I'm supposed to do... and I am. For now. But that may change soon. I think. Maybe. Heh. (That's just my life!)

I don't want to go anywhere until winter's over. I don't like traveling in winter.

Do I think I'll be leaving S's? Maybe. I love this family, and dearly. Desperately. Obsessively. Compulsively. (Ok, ok, just kidding.) But it's very difficult for me to balance "support" with "salvation" right now... and honestly, I'm tired of being dependent. My dad pays for my medical bills (now that's salvation!), my cell phone (I'm on a family plan ^_^), my car insurance, and until this year, my car tags. The S's provide me with food. I pay for my gas, car maintenance, clothes, other basic necessities of life, gifts, and my Bible college bill. Not bad, I guess (especially with no income!), but I am itching to be totally independent. Not that I wouldn't mind a roommate or something- I don't like staying places totally by myself. But I want to be an adult, for crying out loud! I want to strike out on my own and make an impact on the world.

On the flip side... leaving home is scary, and this place is warm, snug, and secure. Why should I leave the womb? (Funnily enough, I actually refused to leave the literal womb.) I long for change and adventure, yet I am loathe to leave the security of the known and predictable. What a trap to be caught in. Which impulse do I obey?

Interestingly, the Holy Spirit now resides within me. I don't know where he was before, or if he was in me/around me and I just didn't know it, but last night I asked God to send the Holy Spirit into my heart and give me what I need (because I'm not always accurate on what I think I need), and then I found Luke 11:13, which says, "If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?"

Huh. Well, then, I guess that means that God send the Spirit when I asked him to. That means... that now I don't have to be confused about whether or not he dwells within me as 1 Corinthians 3:16 claims he does... because God said he'd do it, so he did. Cool!


I know that the Bible says that when we are followers of God, when we have faith in Jesus' name for our salvation, that the Holy Spirit will come and dwell in us. It always confused me, though, because I thought, That certainly can't be true! Look at all the junk inside me! There's no WAY God would want to hang out in there... But I guess he does. And I think it's only by hanging out among the junk that he can clear it out. He had to come down and live with us people in order to save us... I think it's the same principle, as near as I can tell. Then again, I'm no authority.

Buuuuuuut... now that the Holy Spirit is for sure for sure living inside me, I know that he'll for sure for sure guide me. God's guidance is not some "somewhere out there" thing that I have to try to decipher. God will guide me, personally, now. How? Not sure, precisely, about all the specifics... Definitely through the Bible, though. I mean, if someone were to come to me for advice, and I'd already written a book, I'd probably give them the book to read if it would answer their questions. It'd be tons easier.

But I know that God guides people in other ways than just Biblical exposition. I was reading Acts today, and the disciples were so amazingly attuned to God's voice! Yes, he sent angels and gave them visions, but those were the exception, not the rule. Most of the time, they went places to preach until, well, until they were done. Then they moved on. It's like they just knew. God told them, I think. They didn't stress about having time quotas to spend in each place, or how many converts they were supposed to get... It was powerful stuff, what they were doing. What's really cool is that they were just going and God would give them an opportunity to speak, and they would (and the Holy Spirit would fall on them and give them the words and the power), and people's consciences would be pricked. Usually, that meant people would profess faith in Jesus, but sometimes that meant the apostles would be stoned or thrown in prison or beaten, etc. And that was alright, because it was God's plan, not theirs, and they knew that whatever was befalling them, God had it under control and it would all work out okay.

WOW.

If I could live my life like that, well... there's no telling what could happen. Talk about adventure ;)

I could live with that kind of transmogrification. Imagine, frightened little me, living a life of bold faith.

Oh, I want it. I want it real bad.

But am I willing to bear the cross that comes before the crown?

Eh... that's one item of junk that the HS is gonna have to clear out... all that trepidation I've got plastered on the walls.

I left summer camp today. More on that later- there's a WHOLE lot of venting that needs to happen.

My dad just proposed the seemingly craziest, yet entirely logical idea to me... and a way to earn a thousand dollars to pay off my SOULS bill, and not have to worry about gas on the way. He suggested that I drive back to Y, see my friends and family, pick up his guns from his friend, and drive them out to W. That's 2,500 miles, for the curious. Then I'd head home from there. So I'd get to see my peeps in Y, I'd get to see my family, my dad would get his guns (which he's been anxious for since they left in '07), he would pay about the same amount it would take him to go get them (and not have to miss any work), and since he'd be paying for my gas, I wouldn't have to worry about tapping out my bank account!

Hmm. I'm intrigued. What an adventure! (Kinda lonely, but still... It would be nice to have a driving partner, that's for sure!) I'd get to pass by several places that I wanted to see, but wasn't going to be able to, since I was going to go directly home. And it'd only take me a week or so, probably. Maybe more like a week and a half or two, depending how much time I spent in each place.

Hmm.... God, is this okay? Should I go for it? I am inclined, though I would dearly like to be home as soon as possible...

Today's the day. I'm all packed up and moved back into my car, ready to head to another cabin. The only thing that's waiting is for me to head down to "Headquarters" and receive my cabin assignment to move in there.

One of the other counselors flew in last night and spent the night in my cabin. It was nice to have someone around when I got up this morning... even if Boss did wake me up when he brought her to my house. (10:45!)

So... we'll see what the summer holds. If it's anything like the last couple of weeks, it's going to be a doozy. Lots of learning experiences. As D and I were discussing the difficulties I have with the Boss, he said, "Maybe you're not supposed to enjoy the summer." Thanks, D, for the uplifting and encouraging thought. lol. He clarified, and what he meant was that maybe this summer is not supposed to be a happy, carefree, easy summer for me, but a hard one, for growth and character development.

Whatever God brings my way, I'll be okay with... eventually. I know I don't like the tough times when they're here, but usually I can look back on them as some of my favorite times.

So... anticipation, excitement, and trepidation are all vying for a place in the forefront of my mind. I'm just going to take it as it comes.

Hang on to your buttons, kids!

Photo Credit

I found out that I'll be in the kitchen "for a while".

Whatever that means.

It does mean, however, that I need to get my Food Handler's Certificate.

Don't ask me why, but this feels significant... like God is setting me up for something.

Puzzle pieces are falling into place, I just can't see the picture on the front of the box. And you know what? I'm okay with that right now.

I can hardly believe it, but... I think I'm glad to stay in the kitchen. I've come to enjoy it.

Today, one of the cooks gave me a compliment. Before I knew I'd be in the kitchen a while longer, I said to him, "Today is our last day working together, I think. I wonder if I'll be in the kitchen this summer?"

He replied, "I hope so. You're a good helper."

Awww, thanks, O! I'm glad to know that I'm a good helper. Sometimes I feel so very inept.

And, incredibly, I have survived those nine days that previously seemed so overwhelming and potentially fatal. Even more incredibly, I have survived with a smile on my face and happiness in my heart... even without talking to D for a week.

God has used this brief interlude to teach me so much... what in the world will the summer bring??