So it's been a while! After a while, news builds up and becomes all the newsier, meaning that I'm really doing everyone a favor by waiting a long time in between posts to make sure that I actually have something to talk about. The problem is that life just keeps happening, no matter whether I'm writing or not, and as it all builds up and builds up the thought of writing about it becomes more and more exhausting until I've totally talked myself out of it! Or sometimes I'll talk myself into it, but forget the most important parts lol.

So what's been going on with me? Well, I saw the head doctors, both of 'em (neurologist and psychiatrist) and I'm trying out two new meds. The one from the head shrinker is a mood stabilizer for Mood Disorder Not Otherwise Specified (because I'm too complex to just label with bipolar or manic-depression, of course!) and it has the potential to make me quite depressed. I've been feeling that for sure lately, though not entirely certain it's med related. I was having problems with depression at least a week before I saw the psych, and it only got worse for a while there but it feels like it's easing up some. Now I'm struggling with sleep problems. This could be related to an interplay between the new psych med and the mild sedative from the neurologist to keep me from twitching, but for a few days at a stretch now and then, and for past several days right now, it seems that I can't stay asleep but I can't stay awake either. The result is a groggy, drowsy, constantly nodding off lady who wakes up to find herself doing random things or finishing sentences that make no sense at all and have no bearing on what's happening around her. I'll have a thought process going on that is much like the thought processes you have in dreams, so very disjointed and unrelated to reality, but I'll come back and "wake up" halfway through or right at the end and say the last part out loud… but realize as I'm saying it that it's thoroughly nonsensical. I was talking to Bob Cat earlier today before hopping in an Epsom bath for my legs and was saying something about how it wasn't going to happen until I'd swallowed enough jade. It made perfect sense until I woke up at the jade part and finished my sentence, with a mental image of myself downing handfuls of jade beads like they were prescription pills! Crazy.

So there's that, and I feel like I'm going crazy and my days are just a muddle of nonsense, but when I'm "sober" I'm doing quite well. There's a storm front that moved through last night and today and I am definitely feeling it! I'm taking my regular strong pain killers, plus a couple extra (since I now have that luxury when needed), and drinking an ale now and then to help give the pills some "oomph". I know you're totally not supposed to do that, but even with the really strong pain meds I'm at "take me to the Emergency Room" pain levels, which is saying something. Can you imagine where I'd be at should I not have the good medication that I finally have? I'd be done for.

I still think about the last few months before I found this pain doctor, and how excruciating they were, and how I was honestly dying. My body was under so much stress from the unceasing, incredibly high levels of pain and other symptoms that my vital strength was just… slipping away. Fading. My organs were shutting down, bit by bit. Blood tests tell me that the functioning is good, so I'm happy about that. I'm mostly happy to not feel like I'm fading away, to feel like even though I'm still sick and being "attacked by gremlins" (as we've decided to euphemize the situation) and that won't likely change in the course of my life that I can still participate and be a real person, not just a fading ghost or a memory of the friend someone used to have.

I have had some interesting new health news from the past few weeks of dr's appts, and that is that I have a double stranded DNA, whatever that means. I guess I have to do some more research on that one and what it can mean, but one of my lupie friends assures me that it can mean any number of things. Then there's the whole Mood Disorder thing; that was a bit of a surprise! All of the doctors and specialists I've seen in the past couple of weeks, though, have totally and completely supported my EDS theory and my work towards going to Tucson to see the Rheumatology Department there for a diagnosis, if possible. The pain doc brought up another possibility, due to my "testing positive" for Lupus again (from blood tests done just last month), and that is arthritic lupus, rather than the kind that gets in there and destroys your organs and whatnot. He is seeing more of an arthritic type of involvement with the pain than simple fibromyalgia can account for, so we'll see. I have been dealing with a very strong and potent case of pitting edema in my lower legs, ankles, and feet as well as intermittently in my hands and forearms, but I have a doctor's appointment next week to see if that's of any concern at all. 

I started physical therapy yesterday, and I can tell that it's going to be grueling but beneficial. I'll have to keep strong boundaries with my therapists and not completely destroy myself trying to please them, as I have energy barriers that most patients don't have to deal with I think, but my therapist is very understanding and good to work with, so I should be fine. We'll be focusing on my back, and also on exercises to help me lose the weight that I've gained this past year from the meds, improper diet, and a sedentary lifestyle. They will be very valuable, as I'm hard pressed to find exercise that are effective yet low impact and considerate of my physical de-conditioning. I realized during my evaluation with my therapist that I'm really a lot weaker than I've ever been.

Oh, one more "exciting" thing that happened is that my disability claim was denied. This was rather expected, as the odds of getting approved the first time through are notoriously low, but I was hoping that we might be one of the lucky ones. The "Tiara Fund" fundraiser that I started has really really helped to take some of the immediate financial pressure off of us that we were facing, and so has the monthly couple-of-hundred from BioDad, but honestly the financial difficulties haven't eased up at all. If anything, they've increased since my doctors keep adding more and more specialists to my treatment team, and while that's a good thing I just don't have the money for all of these appointment copays and the bills that follow after and the prescriptions I need to get by!  Just looking at the funds raised is kind of laughable, because what difference is $400 going to make in the grand scheme of things? And yet… it lifted a heavy burden from the Robot's mind because we were not relying solely on his paycheck for basic living expenses and medical funds. He makes enough to keep us in house and home, but that's it. If something unexpected happens, or if I need some money for medical stuff, that's a straw that'll break our little glass camel's back. Don't feel sorry for us-- we're doing just fine, and there are plenty of folks who have it much tougher than we do, I know that. It just does get tough sometimes, living with the constant stress of "how in the world am I going to pay for this?!", especially when the "this" is necessary medical help.

Anyway, enough of medical and financial woes! Exciting stuff, exciting stuff… this is getting hard to do, as I'm still in that "drifty" state where I keep nodding off to sleep in the middle of typing. It makes my words a little unpredictable in spelling, and also the content of my thoughts a little outrageous. That last sentence, for example, almost came out as "It makes my outfits a little unpredictable, but they benefit from it in the long run." I had an image of this radical blue tiger stripe tie dye shirt-dress that I was wearing instead of my usual more boring clothes, and I was genuinely excited for a moment about opening up the package and wearing it for a minute… until I realized it wasn't real and that I was supposed to be talking about words. Gaaah! Focus, woman, focus!

I have a massage in just a few hours, which can't come soon enough, as the weather that passed over brought me to the ground with pain and swelling in my legs. I tried to get Drogo to rub my feet, ankles. and lower legs, and he did so briefly and reluctantly, but he really dislikes massaging. It's like pulling teeth to get him to rub my back or feet or something. Doesn't matter that I could really, really use it or that he could be "fixing the problem" as he so loves and is deeply motivated to do, he just doesn't like it and is bored by it and so I go massage-less most of the time. I often wake myself in the night with my arms lifted above my head, massaging and stroking my hands and forearms, or my face and head and neck. It's kind of weird, but whatever. I'll get by. I always do.

I'm seriously flagging here, so I'll wrap things up by sharing the most adorable thing EVER! My friend the Artist went to a Comic Con  a few months back, and I was super super jealous because she got to meet the most amaaaaaazing people within the geek culture and see the coolest stuff, etc. etc. etc. So she paid to have an artwork commissioned for the Robot and I, but it's taken this entire time for the artist to get around to it I guess. Today she posted it on my Facebook wall, and she had some really neat things to say about it in the conversation we had around the picture itself. Another friend of mine also commented on our marriage in a very positive way, and it was very encouraging since I've been feeling a little discouraged about our relationship lately (a lot of it fueled by chronic stress, and insecurity over my appearance now that I've gained so much weight). We even had a "talk" on Sunday, which was mostly me talking at him and explaining what I was feeling and why and citing some examples and him explaining his perspective and me reordering and reorganizing my thoughts around this new information and realizing that we're actually okay after all and it was all fine and I was just breaking down under the stress is all but he didn't mind because he's awesome like that and just bore up under it patiently like he does and walked me through it. I could wish that he were more passionate in daily life, more demonstrative of deep affection and emotional displays, but it is the solid bearing up and the refusal to be flapped and bothered and moved out of place that signals his love to me, strong and sure as a beacon. I just sometimes lose sight of his particular version of affection and passion, start comparing our relationship to "others"… and let me tell you something: that doesn't work. Ever. Even if I were healthy and we did have the sunshine and rainbows that we so long for (because we've walked in a miserable, cold, rainy mist for so long now!), every relationship is different and looks different and functions differently, and my main concern ought to be "Are we healthy? Are we okay with us?" Because that's what's important. It's not important whether or not he does _____ like so and so does (although that would be super cute and sweet and nice), it's important that he is still here, and not going anywhere, and that he still thinks I'm pretty and that he believes that I can still do things but he also doesn't hold any illusions about what I can no longer do and he keeps me from sailing off of a cliff with the best of intentions to carry me forward. The picture that my friend commissioned, it's… well, it's perfect. It's us. And seeing it, reading her description of her hopes for its creation, really helped to remind me that what we have is perfect for us, and we have made no mistake in coming together and creating a life that is a blend of the two of us. We have done just what we needed to, and that's beautiful. We're beautiful. And seeing us from an outside perspective did a little something inside of me to push away some of the stress and make a cozy little space where I could just nestle down and really see and appreciate the beauty of what and who we are as a couple.

Without further ado (because I'm totally rambling now), I give you… the Robot and his Lady!

My friend the Artist (not the artist who drew this), says, "I know the one thing I really wanted out of this, was to show that through the ups and downs of stressing over bills, you battling your illness and Corey stressing over how to handle things, that no matter what you guys can make it. And together you guys make a great team, warriors and lovers, conquering any obstacle that comes both your way. I remember paying her during the time when I was up in phoenix when you were going through at lot when I was reading your blogs. So I figure this would be a perfect gift for you guys. and I am very happy how well she was able to illustrate in what I wanted." My other friends said, "Oh my God this is perfect," and "JFC that is so Corey. Look at that leer."

In addition to those little gems, the "this is perfect" friend and I were having a conversation and my sex life came up as a topic. She had this to say, which (combined with the picture and sentiment behind it) totally cemented my faith in my relationship and its unique power and beauty.
"You two will be fine. I personally find that sex is best with a person you already fiction well with outside the bedroom, and you two are made for each other. Inviting someone to come over and play is a unit decision, a group activity, and only works because you two are already perfect together on That level. You'll be fine."

Yep. We are perfect together, and no matter what we can make it. We are warrior-lovers! The Artist also said, "And during the time I was reading the blogs up in phoenix, I felt really sad and helpless not being able to somehow get rid of the depression and the stress that you were going. So I figure I ask this, that way it shows some happiness that it can bring about through trouble times. I mean I can choke illness out of people, but I do much best to try to create something or think of something to present as a gift through help of others such as this artist or form a gift by myself. And of course I did my best to pay whenever money I had for the sushi up when you had your doctors visit. But yeah, I am going to cry up a storm here when I keep talking like this. Anyways you have amazing friends that have your back, how about that :)."

And she's absolutely right. With the Robot/Drogo firmly ensconcing me in his arms and my amazing friends at my back, there is no way I can not kick ass as I live life facing the gremlins. My various diseases may never go away and they may never be totally tamed and managed, but I'm not going away or being tamed either. I will continue to wear my tiara to doctor's appointments and to paint my walker bright colors to cover the shame and anger I feel at having to use it. I will prevail, and I will do so with or without this elusive thing called "sleep"! For now, though… I'm going to try to catch some. :)

Okay, I admit that my last post about Drogo was written out of my own irritation, and I'm glad that I have this safe place to vent and not go pouring my wrath upon him whenever I have fleeting feelings.

What I do have right now, though is kittens "helping" me to blog.

They are climbing on my hands and the keyboard and popping up between my arm and my side. It's pretty adorable.

Anyway, back to my admittance… I think Drogo just needed some time to, you know, be all grouchy and moody and whatever, and now he's getting over it. I pretty much decided that I was just gonna hold off and not really interact with him beyond passing conversation (i.e. not seek him out and "try to make things better") because I realized that women need a closeness when things are going wrong. We want to connect, to draw together, to be reassured and to talk and know that it's all gonna be okay etc. Men aren't like that. They want to be apart, to do productive things that will assure the desired outcome (that the thing going wrong won't be going wrong anymore) will come to pass. My continual pressing on him to make me feel better and to try to make him feel better and see if there was anything I could do to make things better and make the situation better was really just making things worse. So… I decided I was going to do for him what he needed. Space. Time. Silence. Okay.

I had to check my motives, though, and make sure that I wasn't ignoring him to punish him for being irritating, but to make sure that I was holding back from him to give him space to finish being grumpy on his own terms and in his own way. Waiting, you could say. Not punishing. And I did. And it felt kinda weird, but I knew I was doing the right thing. He came in after work and laid down with me for a bit, and I enjoyed that. He asked what I did, and I filled him in on the day. We discussed some "to do" things that I needed to accomplish that are urgent and I assured him that I would the next day (and I did!). He got up and went to go do his thing and I did my thing and eventually I went to sleep. While I was getting ready for sleep, though-- flossing, brushing my teeth, washing my face, etc.-- I came out and watched him play with the kittens for a while, which was adorable. We talked about them for a bit, too, and then I went to bed to sleep (versus going to bed to just lie down, which I do frequently). 

I woke up a few hours later 'cause pain and hunger and bladder, and as I stumbled into the kitchen I blearily noticed the sensation of my feet felt a bit different. I shuffled a bit further and realized-- Drogo had swept the floors! Granted, it's his chore and we'd both agreed it needed to be done that day, but he did it! Yay! I shuffled delightedly to the sink, only to be shocked into an utter standstill. The dishes were done. Normally I wash my dish right after I use it, but the past day or so had been especially bad for energy and muscle fatigue, so I'd let a few bowls and plates pile up and was dreading the thought of washing them all up. Now, though, I didn't have to, because the dishes were done!

And now I felt bad for being irritated with my husband at all ever. He wasn't far behind me in entering the kitchen, so I maneuvered my way back across the clean floor and kissed him passionately (do men know how sexy a clean kitchen is? Men everywhere--- this will get you into a woman's pants faster than roses and chocolates and fancy pick up lines! Okay, maybe not the chocolates, but it's really, really impressive!!) and thanked him profusely. I also thanked him again in the same manner the next day, and both times he was adorably bemused at my gratitude, but hopefully he'll store it away for future reference. He just said, "You were getting behind." Hah. Yes. Yes I was, and I'm grateful for the help.

So he's coming out of his grumpy shell bit by bit, but here's the bombshell… he broke his two cat rule. He has this big thing about only have two cats at a time. He claims it's to keep me from becoming a Crazy Cat Lady, and he's probably right, but I resent the Two Cat Rule with a passion, 'cause kitties! Anyway, we're re-homing the black cat that doesn't like people and keeping one of the kittens, right? Right. But the kitten will be oh-so-lonely without mama and its litter-mates because that's all it's ever known! So I proposed to Khal Drogo that we keep two kittens, especially since Juneaux is terrified of kittens and they'll need each other, at least until they're more significantly grown. He's been thinking about it, and today he mumbled that he guesses we can keep two kittens… and then he picked out the one that he likes the best. He broke his own rule! Ha-HA! 

Sorry. I just feel rather victorious at the moment. He didn't let me celebrate, though. I squeee'd once, very loudly, and he told me to "stop freaking out, woman". So I did. I replied "I will stop freaking out because I know that if I continue to do so it will jeopardize the decision you have made. Am I supposed to act like this is no big deal?"

"Yes."

"Cool. No big deal then. Can I smother you in kisses?"

"I'll be in there to kiss you in a minute. I'm leaving for work."

"Besides that one. Can I smother you in kisses?"

"…I'll be in there to kiss you in a minute. I'm leaving for work."

"…Alright, fine."

So I admit that I was writing out of my own annoyance yesterday, and he is being an adult and getting over himself, at his own pace, in his own way… and he's making overtures of kindness toward me, I think to make up for the grumpiness that he knows has hurt me this past week and more. I haven't discussed that here, but there have been incidents. It's been rough. Anyway… our marriage isn't in danger. We're just people, like anyone else, refusing to give up on each other. And isn't it super sweet that he swept the floors and did the dishes and is letting me keep kittens? My heart is so totally melted right now!!!! <3 p="">

Here's the summary of my weekend that I posted in various forums and places on Facebook this weekend:

"My home has been invaded by long-distance cleaning fairies. They came over to see me and Drogo and to thoroughly clean our house and give me a massage. Basically? I cried at the incredible outpouring of love and care and consideration, and now I'm sitting here eating grapes, listening to Def Leppard, watching them clean and dance and be silly, and watch my husband assist/fetch cleaning supplies/be shooed out from underfoot. (I'm not allowed to help.) feeling overwhelmed by love with Lacey and 2 others.

So they just left… but three friends of mine conspired with my husband to show up and clean my house for me. They are from several hours away and were going to be coming to town for other reasons, so they were going to come and see us *anyway* to say hello, so they figured they'd just take care of me while they were at it  One of them, who I actually met for the first time yesterday, is a licensed massage therapist that has worked with fibro patients previously, and she gave me a foot massage yesterday and a back massage today. They did the dishes that I've been too sick to do for three weeks (yeah, ALL my dishes have been dirty for three weeks-- gross!), and I didn't realize how dirty my house had actually gotten until they cleaned it! One of them took nearly an hour to soak and nitty gritty scrub my bathtub so I could soak in super duper cleanliness, bless her heart.

I did what I could to express my thanks (beyond crying when I comprehended what they were here for when they showed up yesterday, of course!) so I made them little gift baskets last night and wrote them thank you cards with their names in hand-lettered calligraphy on the front and stamped wax seals on the envelope flaps. (Wish I'd thought to take pictures. Oh well.) They were so pleased! You'd have thought I'd given them the moon  The lesson I learned from both giving and receiving this weekend is that while it pays to give, it also pays to receive graciously and with humility and pure gratitude. It meant a LOT to those girls to be able to do something so obviously meaningful for me, even with no apparent reward anywhere in their future beyond my and Drogo's gratitude."

Yes, I cried when they revealed their intent. And I TOTALLY guessed who was mysteriously coming over! Drogo was having a prolonged text conversation and sporadic phone calls and wouldn't tell me who was coming over and I was like, "Is it Lacey?" (she lives hours away and we rarely get to see her) and he was like, "Why would it be Lacey?" Literally minutes later a knock sounds at the door and in walks Lacey. I knew it!!!!! And when they told me that they were there to clean the house and that the new friend was there to massage me, too… I just broke down. I still burst into tears when I look around and see the cleanliness of my house. My heart just cannot hold that much love! Dani, Lacey's girlfriend, scrubbed and soaked and scrubbed and scrubbed my bathtub and shower until it sparkles and gleams because she knows that I soak in it a lot. 

See, I had sent out a plea on Facebook the other day, giving up my pride and just asking for help from my friends because I can't do this anymore. My pain levels are too high and I'm too sick and I just can't make life work all by myself anymore and I need help! I had dishes in the sink that had been there going on three weeks, and I was too weak to wash them. I was/am too weak to cook myself food, so I'm relying on easy-make foods like sandwiches, cereal, fruit, yogurt, certain veggies, etc. For various reasons, people were unable to come to my rescue, but these ladies began plotting and subsequently Facebook stalking me to make sure that no one else stepped in to do the job they intended to do, which no one did. So they bought all manner of cleaning supplies and brought grungy shirts and braved the dust and the mold and the kitty dander to which they are all allergic, and my home is so lovely and bright and inhabitable now, it just brings a smile to my face when I hobble through :)

I wanted to "pay it forward" somehow, desperately, to give something back somehow, so I put together little gift packages for each one of them that night after they left. (We went out to dinner together, too, so that was fun. Fortunately, due to some extra pain killers headed my way via an anonymous source the day before, I had my best day this entire month, no exaggeration, and I was able to be up and about with them in a halfheartedly normal manner.) They opened their gifts and read their cards while they were visiting with me this afternoon before they left to go home and I couldn't believe their heartfelt appreciation over something so small. I mean, they had given me something so incredibly heartwarming and valuable… I felt as though my return gesture of appreciation was so feeble and faltering in comparison! But it was not so to them, and that is what matters.

The amazing thing is that just the gratitude that I had for the gift they gave me of their time and effort and taking care of something that I was not capable of doing on my own was enough for them. That was all they expected to receive, and it was more than enough for them. It meant so much to me, what they did, maybe more than they will ever understand. To go from being an active achiever, someone who "gets things done" to being unable to do your own dishes is… well, it's humiliating. You begin to question your own worth as a person, as a wife. What is the point of even keeping me around, you wonder. Why does my husband want me here? All I can do is sleep and generate mess. But these girls… they came in and gave me a fresh start. I can maintain the cleanliness, to a degree. When I use a dish, I clean it right away so it doesn't build up. They laughed with me and cracked jokes and told stories and, most of all, reaffirmed my worth as a person. They wanted to spend time with me. They came all this way for me. They wanted to do this for me, of their own free will. They went out of their way and went to trouble for me because I am of value. It cheered me up to an unspeakable degree. It's hard to explain.

As a side note, I also found a bit of usefulness as a chronic illness advocate as well. The massage therapist, Meli, has worked with fibro patients in the past but doesn't know much about the illness itself. Her mother deals with many chronic illnesses but is, as Meli describes it, a hypochondriac. She is the negative stereotype of chronic illness patients embodied, the type where they say "it's all in your head" and it's kinda mostly true. That's unfortunate, but that's kind of the place where she has had to base her knowledge and dealings from, because that's all she really knows of chronic illness. During her time with me, she asked me questions and I answered as best I could, and of course she saw me deal with everyday life in my fashion. In addition to that I mentioned something about spoons, which lead to my reading her The Spoon Theory by Christine Miserandino, which is like the American Constitution for chronic illness patients lol.

Well what is really neat is that today she told me that I have really changed her perspective on chronic illness, enlightened her, so to speak, and I feel much like how I used to when I worked with The Healing Journey and did advocacy for abuse survivors. This illness has taken so very much from me, and I suppose you could even say it has ruined my life. At this point, that could be a very accurate statement, though in the future that may no longer apply. (Fingers crossed!) However, as with the negative things that stem from abuse, I've managed to turn those potential life-ruiners into positives by using them to inform and educate others and advocate for rights, change, research, healing; whatever is necessary at that time. I'm a badass, man. Life can't keep me down, no matter how hard it tries! I'm just super grateful that I have helped Meli to understand fibromyalgia and chronic illnesses better, because as a massage therapist and a health practitioner, she has the potential to affect many lives in the future. By affecting her point of view, I have theoretically changed dozens, if not more, of lives of people that I will probably never meet. Crazy, right? All by simply being my awesome self and being honest yet upbeat about my struggles and health problems.

Things are looking up. I may not necessarily be on the mend (if this month is any indication, because it has been hell), but I can still be a positive force in the world even from within my prison of pain and other various symptoms. Watch out, world!

On another, slightly more humorous/bitter note, I made something for my new pain doc. I think she'll get a kick out of it. We hit it off pretty well, and she seems to have a sense of humor much like mine, though I would not dare to pull this on any of my other doctors. They'd make me pay in one way or another… but I figure this will emphasize the truth of my statement that this month has been the. worst. month. of my fibro. ever. EVER. (ever.) (The date is set for my next appointment. I'm fairly confident that the pain won't be going anywhere before then, soooo…)

Prolly more thoughts on this later, I dunno. Right now I'm just copying and pasting a post I sent out in one of my closer-knit fibro support groups this morning.

Well, I sure feel invalidated as hell this morning. I posted that AWESOME picture that I tagged y'all in (I'll include it here for those who I'm not friends with outside of the group) and not only does everyone think that I'm sitting here with a knife to my wrist apparently, I got a message in the wee hours of the morning and one that was there when I signed on this morning, and I dunno if you guys will catch the same vibe as I do but I'm totally getting the message that "you're too negative and you focus on your pain too much; knock it off and be cheerful, eh?" which is incredibly discouraging and angering and all kinds of things that I really just don't know how to articulate. Thoughts?

Last night's message: "Hello? I'm I don't know who you are and you don't need who I am but I am one of R's friends and somehow I've been able to see your posts on my bulletin... is something wrong? I've been kinda feeling down too but I shouldn't be.

Sorry so many typos on there lol.

I meant to say we don't know each other. I've been seeing the... negative stuff you've been posting. So I wanted... to know what was wrong... if you wanted to tell me. I can understand if you find it weird to talk to someone you don't know about something so personal but... I'm going to be moving out of AZ in May and I'mm feeling kinda down too so I thought it would be worth a shot."

This morning's message from a different person (Note: she had asked to be untagged in the photo because it looks bad for her, professionally as an actress.): "Yeah it was a cool piece but yeah most of the people who still use Facebook are actors directors producers etc so I stopped putting anything on there about pain or pretty much anything negative or if I do I try to make it funny. I stopped my blog a couple months ago my pain is what it is it's been two years this is where it will likely stay thinking about it just gives it power. Can I suggest something for you to read? Maybe you are not at a point where it's something yiu can absorb I wasn't ready when I bought it a few years ago read three pages and out it away but the secret has changed my life even before I read it. I started living the law of attraction and yes I still have a bad day but I'm very cautious about what I think and say bc what you think about you bring about. I'm a therapist and never got any if this but so much has changed w my pain my acting everythjng that I have to believe there is truth. Google it and try it for a couple weeks maybe it will help. I don't go to meetings lol I don't do anything other than watch my thinking patterns Just a thought from what I see in your patterns "

I responded, and I'll post that too if you want, but this response to MY response just makes me even more frustrated (but I KNOW that wasn't the intent, to attack, I guess I'm just sensitive???).

Note: Here's my response, for clarity's sake. "I get what you're saying, and that's something that I *do* try to live in my life. I'm very conscious of my thought patterns and I monitor my thoughts and feelings quite closely (hence why I blog and talk to my husband and besties all. the. time.). For me, though, it's more than just "don't think of negative things" whatever. I've learned that--and this is just for me, you understand, because I tried it the other way and it just made me miserable-- it is more healthy and productive to acknowledge whatever negative thoughts or feelings I have, think/talk through them, and then move on with my life. I don't wallow except on rare occasions, because everyone needs a pity party day once in a while I think, especially ppl who hurt all the damn time. But for me it's best for my mental and emotional health to acknowledge the stuff that ain't so positive, try to find something funny in it, and keep going.

The "don't think about negative things and you won't bring negative things into your life" dealie just doesn't work for me. And that's okay. I'm glad it has done a lot for you. For me, I put as much love and light out into the world as I can, and I get a TON back in return. But I don't dare gloss over the bad parts because it all just festers and creates "disease" in my life. Not the physical disease, of course (though our emotions and whatnot DO have an effect on our physical health as I'm sure you're well aware), but… oh, how to explain it? Anyway, I've known waaaaaay too many people that pretend nothing is wrong, ever, and we should only think and talk about positive things, etc. for me to want to go back to that kind of thinking intentionally. (And it could be that what I've experienced/read/seen is a distortion of what YOU are talking about… I mean, connotation is a hard thing to convey. You say "banana" and we will each have a different image that pops into our head and different feelings about the word though the core concept is the same. Try that with the word "love" or "happiness" and things get crazy lol) It's been my experience, working with abuse survivors, that acknowledging the negative stuff and processing it appropriately is what robs it of power, not pushing it away in favor of focusing on the positive. I believe that there's a balance of the two that can and must be achieved for optimal emotional and mental health. Maybe that balance doesn't always come across on Facebook, but this IS the place where a lot of my support system is located, and also where I try to raise awareness about the very real nitty gritty of what it's like to live with chronic pain, chronic depression, chronic illnesses and diseases, and PTSD and other abuse survivor related issues. On a totally unrelated note, have you ever thought about creating a facebook page strictly for your professional life? One of my artist friends has done that because of some of the same things you mentioned-- potential employers/buyers, professional peers, etc. It's a way for her to display her portfolio and other business related stuff without it getting cluttered in with her personal stuff or lost and vice versa."

"Thoughts are def hard to convey here bc yes I def still acknowledge the bad things and I've had a lot. I had a bad couple days and I have allowed myself to feel upset and angry it's more how I think about it that changed. I guess my perspective is different. I found out heartbreaking news about my ex acknowledged it would make me sad processed it talked to a couple people quickly but cautious of the words I used when talking about my future for me not the universe and then it passed. Everyone is different. I guess I've been thru so much bad in my life including men hurting me and pain obesity and have fought so hard I finally just found a balance or something that works. I don't tell most people about it bc it sounds too new age even to me lol. But I thought I'd ask but I get it's not for everyone. I'm also alone so I have to do things different. My support system is here but not much emotionally and I have no spouse or anyone to talk to or depend in to listen it say it will be ok. It's all up to me and that's ok. I've never been my own rock and I'm learning
Well I'm glad u have a way that works . Feel better"

So I guess I'm just super irritated because I'm always very self-conscious about how I come across, whether it's appropriate or if I'm being too negative or angry, etc. I know she's just trying to help, but it feels just as invalidating as someone who knows just what I choose to present to the world regarding my pain coming up and telling me that I've probably been handling it all wrong and this is what helped them and I should consider doing it that way. Wait, come to think of it… that's happened to me countless times, with all of my diseases. And my food allergies. And it pisses me off, guys! I'm just like, you know what? Even if I chose to be completely negative and wallow in my misery and my pain and my agony and not try to find the positive and do my best and find humor in the situation and be totally authentic about my struggles and where I'm at, that is my right. That is my right as a sick person and that is my right as a healthy person. So stop fucking telling me how to handle my shit, okay?!

I was so pleased with myself because I've progressed so far on acceptance of my fibro diagnosis and that I'm not going to find an underlying disease to treat and miraculously recede my fibro to livable, which is a hope that I was clinging to until the "just fibro" appointment earlier this month. I've come across some well of determination, hope, and inspiration that I thought had dried up long since, beaten down by the daily grind of such incredible levels of pain and other miseries, and life is looking up for me. And then… this.

Maybe it's no coincidence that just when I seem to be getting my feet under me in whatever battle I'm fighting (emotions, facing and processing and healing from abuse, fighting depression, my health, my food allergies, etc.) something comes along that tries to knock me on my ass again. Maybe I am just too open and authentic. Maybe I leave myself vulnerable to attack. Maybe I leave myself vulnerable to those who think they know better. God, why are there so many of those people in the world?!

Anyway, I'm quite irritated, angry, frustrated, guilty and not sure if it's legitimate guilt or totally illegitimate and false… Because of the crazy dysfunctional environment of most of my life, I have a hard time telling false guilt from legitimate guilt, and I tend to take on guilt that isn't mine and shouldn't be aimed at me at all. So I never quite trust the guilty feelings anymore, because I know that it quite probably isn't true or to be trusted. Generally, I'm above reproach. ;) So this is why I blog and openly put things out there in social media, to get the feedback of the wide network of people that I trust. I thought I could trust this chick; she's a fibro warrior too, a psychologist, an abuse survivor… but she took the opportunity to slip the sword between the ribs, probably all the while thinking that she was just helping me let out the bad blood and balance my humors! And that just goes to show that you can't trust everyone with your pain. According to her theory, I suppose I should stop this blogging and sorting through my thoughts. Which, as we all know, is baloney for me, as this blog is the thing that has helped me sort through my thoughts and feelings in a semi-coherent manner for years. I suppose that's what smarts the most-- the suggestion that my coping methods aren't good enough, that I've been doing it wrong this whole time and any progress I've made is incidental.

Enough ranting for the day, I suppose. I just had to get all this out there, and boy do I feel better! Whew. It's no longer roiling inside me in a jumbled mess, confusing me and making me heart-sick. Ahh. I seriously feel as though I can physically breathe better now.

Suck it, actress lady. You have your ways and I have mine, and mine are fucking awesome. And no, I'm not still bitter. :P

Hey, sorry about the absence. I'm alive and well-- as well as can be expected-- but I've just been recovering from the Celebirthsary weekend. It was really good in so many ways, but it wore me out. I slept for a few days straight, but I'm still wore out. I think that's a permanent state for me now lol. In fact, I was feeling particularly awful yesterday (and the day before, to be honest) because weather is changing and I got the fibro flu pretty bad. Kenobi came over to hang and take care of me, but I totally and completely knocked out on him like, half an hour after he got here. I woke up much later to see him packing his stuff and I managed a bleary goodbye before falling back into the dark pit of sleep. Sorry bro.

I don't know if I'll get over myself and get back into the swing of writing this week, but I will certainly try. Khal Drogo is taking me to my pain doctor appointment on Monday, which also happens to be our first anniversary! Go figure. Anyway, he is going to be a strong advocate for me, which I'm grateful for. He won't take a lame-ass answer like the one I got last month. I have a hard time standing up for myself with doctors, but I don't think that Drogo has that same problem.

One year. Wow. Where does the time go? And at the same time, I feel like we've been married years and years. Probably due to our long history. We've known each other over 10 years now. Can you believe it? I can. He's my destiny. (Read that last sentence in a breathy, girly voice, and then roll your eyes and promptly disregard it. I don't believe that junk.)

Well, I'm off to go wallow in my fibro flu misery again. Crichton's woman and I have planned a joint surprise bday party for Drogo and Crichton tonight, since they are both anti-party robots, and it's going to be fabulous. Drogo thinks that the party is only for his brother, which I told him about because I need him to get the both of them out of the house so we can decorate and bring in the cake and all that. Drogo knows there's a party happening; Crichton is completely oblivious to any party stuffs. He thinks we're all getting together for our regular DnD session. Bwahahahahaha! And when they return from fetching the pizza and soda, we will silly string them as they walk in the door.

Dare I mention the "gift" I got for Drogo? It's a gag pregnancy test thats "always positive". It's got the red cross in the little window so it looks like a positive pregnancy test. Kenobi thinks Drogo is gonna flip his shit, but I think it'll be funny, especially if the group thinks that it's real too! Of course I will break the news that it's a joke fairly soon after he opens it. I don't think he'll get upset, but we have talked about what we'd have to do if I got pregnant now, which is terminate the pregnancy. I want babies, but I am hoping against hope that I don't get pregnant at this point because I would hate to have to do that. (We have our reasons. Don't remember if I've elucidated them or not, but perhaps another time.) Peace out, homies. Catch you on the flip side.

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.

So I couldn't say anything here or on fb for fear of ruining the surprise, but C and I drove up to Id for J's wedding weekend! Yep. We are now firmly ensconced in the S's home, watching over it while they're all crammed into a hotel room together. I'll be doing some cramming of my own over the weekend, but it's nice to have a peaceful, quiet place to relax in. Although C did most of the driving, it was still a grueling trip, and neither of us are feeling very good right now.

C, J's mom, had told her this morning that she would have a surprise rolling in about noon, but she had no idea it would be us! Her delight and enthusiasm more than made up for the difficulty of the trip, and I for one am thrilled to be here. A HUGE thanks to my mother for supplying the gas money and making it possible!

It is strangely sad, though, to be here and know that D is dead. It casts a solemn pall over what would otherwise be a strictly joyful trip, but that's to be expected. I knew this would happen, and so did C.

Also, when I went outdoors and called Juneaux he appeared immediately and was incredibly happy to see me. He had no troubles remembering his mother at all! That made me happy. I missed my sweet baby boy.

C has had the past two days off, which has been nice. He's been working so much overtime lately, and I've been so drugged off and on, it seems like we've hardly gotten to see one another. Of course, we have our routine that works quite well, but getting to spend two whole days together was a real treat. On Friday, we ran errands. C's paycheck had finally hit the bank, so we paid off some of the bill from when his truck broke down, and then we bought groceries. It was a good thing he got paid when he did, because both of us were down to almost nothing in food, despite getting creative.

We took my car, since his truck didn't have gas yet and mine did. My car, Shenandoah, is also the only vehicle with a cd player or radio, but a song came on the radio that I HATE, so C suggested I put in a cd. I put in Queen's greatest hits, and as we drove along C was singing along with it, so I joined him. I swear, it was just like a movie or something. A young couple in love and having fun, driving along in the bright sunshine, singing with the radio to their favorite songs, enjoying one another and the day... it was truly, truly fun. It fed the part of my soul that thrives on spontaneity and joy.

Funny story that highlights my fibro fog... I took my walker with me into the store, as I've been in extreme pain of late. (But since I got back on the gabapentin, every day it's a little less, which is something to be truly grateful for.) C let me take over pushing the cart somewhere in the store, and it wasn't until the end-ish of our excursion that I felt overwhelmed by pain and fatigue and wanted to sit down on my walker... only to realize that I'd left it somewhere. I left my walker somewhere in the store. Hah! I found it easily enough, but I'm glad that I realized I'd left it before we checked out and went home. :) It was sitting forlornly near the root vegetables. Poor Bling Chariot.

After getting home, we watched some of the sci-fi show that we've begun watching through together. It's called Farscape, and it's from the late 90's, early 2000's. Despite being about 13 years old, it's really good and it makes me think a lot. It's also really funny. I'm really enjoying watching through this one with C, even more than the last anime we went through together. This is kind of a hobby that bonds the two of us; a couple's activity. C will choose a show he thinks I'll like, one that I haven't seen before, and we'll watch the whole thing together. The only time we haven't finished one is when we were going through Bleach, and that's because I got bored because it seemed repetitive to me.

After a while, the guys came over for DnD, and I hung out and read/played on the computer until I was ready for bed.

The next day, Saturday, was a truly lazy day that I enjoyed. I've been waking up early, like 6'ish, and moving to the couch to play on the internet/read/do stuff until C wakes up and goes to work. After that, I'll accomplish larger housework tasks, because I'm not afraid of waking him up. At any rate, C came out and joined me on the couch... sorta. We engaged in marital privileges a bit vigorously, but I didn't realize how few spoons I had, so I ended up using all of them on that one activity. C put in Farscape, and we proceeded to watch a good portion of the first season. I'm talking hours worth of the show, here. We paused it for regular bathroom and food breaks, and somewhere in the mid-afternoon we got dressed and went to the store in search of sea salt. They were out, but we walked over to the pet store and considered fish for C's tank and looked at the other animals. Upon arriving home, we ended up napping on the couch for several hours. C hadn't slept the night before and the heat really drained me, so we slept a long time. When I woke up I read for a while, and C was playing an online MMO with some of our friends who were online at the time, but then he came back out and we watched more Farscape until I was sleepy, which was about 1 am. We only have 6 episodes left in the first season, and we watched the bulk of the others yesterday.

It was a nice, easy, lazy day, and I really enjoyed spending the time with C. Some people think that watching a show together doesn't count as spending time together, because you're focused on something else, but the show actually stimulated some very interesting philosophical and anthropological discussions while we were watching. Also, we cuddled a lot, despite my being quite twitchy.

There is one thing that I must mention, and it is this: when we left to go grocery shopping on Friday, there was a package waiting in front of the door. I hadn't ordered anything, but my name was on it, so I opened it. It wasn't a bomb, but instead it was an entire case of Cassandra-safe cookies!!! Some mysterious benefactor ordered an entire case of the one store-bought cookie that I can eat, and had it sent to my house. I flipped out in a big way (in a good way), as I love surprises, and this is like... the ultimate surprise. Also, I was raised by my mother, whose primary love language is gifts, so to receive such a thoughtful gift, and as a surprise no less, reaches into my heart and tweaks every "feels" wire that I've got. I was jumping up and down and shouting and really just haywire with excitement, and I'm still so happy about it. It's not about the cookies, though they're delicious (and I'm having a hard time exercising self control!), but it's about the thoughtfulness and intention behind the cookies. An entire case. Man. Can you believe it? I'm stoked. And no, the mysterious benefactor has not revealed themselves as of yet. C and I both kind of thought it was M, but it wasn't. It is something like he would do, but I must look elsewhere for my secret gift giver.

Anyway, back to the regular week and C's regular routine. He has more overtime coming up, so we'll only get one day together as a day off, but that's okay. He's working so hard to keep us afloat, and I make sure to let him know how much I appreciate that, and him. He seems to like that :)

... and then C brought me home chips (which I'd been vocal about craving all day) and a green tea, and fetched me a banana from the kitchen. All as a surprise, to help me feel better.

Good heavens, that man loves me.

My word, I love that man.

Okay, so C is totally not into holidays, especially sappy ones like Valentine's Day. I'll admit it-- I've been an Anti-V-Day-er for a long time as well. It really isn't anything but a fabricated "holiday" designed around materialism and gain for the candy and card companies. Granted, florists get a huge boost in income, but... I just don't see the purpose to it. (I might also be a little bitter since I can't eat 99.99999% of candies and chocolates produced...)

Well, regardless of my feelings about the holiday itself, I saw it as the perfect opportunity to love on C in an extra-special way. So, no, he didn't do anything for me, but I had already asked him if he was going to and he did not give me any illusions of hope. I, however, lined up a deliciously sweet surprise for him.

When he got home from work, I was waiting in the candle-lit room with soft piano music playing in the background, wearing nothing but flowers and vines made of melted (safe!) chocolate and strawberry slices. On the desk I had arranged a silver tray with a small bowl of melted chocolate, strawberry slices, two champagne glasses, and two miniature bottles of sparkling cider in different flavors. I also had a card waiting for him, but it took a while for him to notice that amidst all the other distractions.

When he walked in and saw me, I said, "I got you flowers and chocolate! ^_^" He just laughed.

The poor guy has to go through a bazillion steps to get in and out of his multi-part work uniform, but it was amusing to see him hurrying to get out of it while casting longing glances at the bed and my strawberry-laden form.

He cleaned me up as best he could (and enjoyed it thoroughly!), and I tapped into my creative side to paint him up with chocolate as well. (Needless to say, after the fun and festivities were over, we had to head to the shower and clean each other up the real way.)

In between rounds of painting and de-painting (and all that goes with it), we snuggled into his oversized computer chair and browsed sexy pictures together. That, of course, led to another bout of chocolate-inspired loving, followed by our steamy shower.

It was so much fun! It wasn't just about the sexy stuff, though. He read the card I got him and really liked it, and we were both surprised that a card existed that summed up what I would say so succinctly.

The card read thus:

"Why do I feel so good with you? Because you still surprise me. Sometimes you touch me or smile a certain way (and you don't even know you're doing it) and I remember what made me fall in love with you. But there's a deeper reason, too... it's because I believe in you. Your inner strength and your solid values make me feel secure. I know I can trust you... and that's a really good feeling.

You keep life real and you've helped me see that material things are not nearly as important as what comes straight from the heart... like honesty... like love. So, yeah, I feel really good with you and I know that good feeling is going to last a lifetime.

Happy Valentine's Day"

I added an inscription, which said:
"I am looking forward to the honor of becoming your wife. With all my heart, all my soul, all my trust, respect, and eternal loyalty, I love you."

Oh, yeah, and it had two owls on the front of the card. I love owls. They've always had a special meaning to me. So it didn't even matter that the card is 7 different shades of pink... it was perfect.

I loved surprising him, and he liked it too. As we were cuddling while drifting off to sleep, I asked him, "So... happy with your Valentine's surprise?" He grinned and said, "Yeah. It was good."

I made a couple of decisions today that I would not have foreseen myself making a year ago... much less a few months ago!

First of all, I pierced my earlobes today! I'd been toying with the idea recently, decided to go through with it... eventually... but when K asked me to take him to Walmart today I stopped by the jewelry counter on a whim. There was an employee there, and Walmart offers free piercing with the purchase of the starter earrings and cleaning solution, which was like, 10 bucks. Easy peasy, and I'll be able to switch out the starter studs with other earrings a few weeks before the wedding, which means I can wear pretty earrings on my wedding day, should I so desire. I had previously taken pride in my "swimming against the stream" by never having pierced my ears, which was my main motivating factor in waiting this long, honestly. It wasn't conviction that it's wrong... I just liked being different from everyone else. But finally I realized that it was stupid pride holding me back from something that I actually wanted, so I threw it to the wayside and went for it while I still had the courage.

Didn't hurt. I mean, it did, but no more than a pinch on the arm would, and for about the same duration. I've endured far worse on a middling to bad day with my achy joints.

The second decision, well... I can't really talk about it. Some things must remain a secret, and this is a private matter between C and I. Let's just say I finally came to some clear conclusions about something I'd been in denial about but has been brought to my attention lately, and I decided to be true to myself and at least try out this decision to see if it's right for me and for C.

My goal for this year is to be a truly authentic person, and these decisions that I'm making, while seemingly small and trivial, all add up to the large decision to not be a faker anymore, and to not make decisions for myself out of a fear of what others will think of me for making that particular decision... or out of a fear that people will try to persuade me around to their viewpoint because they disagree with my decision. I've accepted that it's pretty much going to happen, and I need to maintain healthy boundaries to deal with that issue, rather than going about it the way that I had been, which is to make decisions based on my perceptions of other's demands and desires and expectations.

If my hypothesis is correct, then being a truly authentic person will not result in a selfish "I don't care what you think, I'll do what I want!" attitude, mindset, or way of living. My hypothesis is that when one is truly free to be oneself, then one passes that gift on to others and becomes a liberator, rather than an oppressor. I hope to become a better person who does more good and brings more light into the lives of those around her because she is freed from the shackles of expectations. That's my goal, my wish, and my dream for this year. Authenticity, and freedom.

So I made a couple of decisions that I hadn't previously thought that I would, all in the name of authenticity. (Kinda hard, especially when I know many people that would vehemently disagree with both decisions! And understandably so-- I was there at one point myself.)

So... am I better person yet? lol

I went over to C's dad's place last night to do laundry (went into S's room and pulled out thirteen towels-- so that's where they all went! lol). As I was packing up to leave, D, C's dad's girlfriend (say that five times fast...) came out and we had a little conversation as we were both getting ready to leave.

She asked about the wedding, and I told her about the proposal and our wedding plans and date and all that. She told me that if I needed any help (setting up, decorating, whatever!) to just ask her, and I told her that I'd probably take her up on that! Then she asked about gifts and if we needed anything, and I told her about our decision to ask for help with the wedding budget.

She then proceeded to ask about washers and dryers and hookups, and I told her about C looking for a house and how we don't have room for either of those things right now, nor do we have a washer and dryer.

So then she gave me a dryer.

Yeah, that's right. A practically brand-new electric dryer. It's in storage right now, and will stay there until we move into a place that has room for it, but... dude! That's gonna save us so much money! It may be ridiculous, but I'm thoroughly excited about being gifted a dryer. Thoroughly.

Well, I totally mis-read that one.

Hmm.

I was right, though. He did give me a ring :)

And, technically, it is an engagement ring... It's the ring he gave me the first time around. I kept it (since he wouldn't take it back), and it fell off of my keychain a year and a half ago, landing in the snow and sort of surviving being run over by an Expedition. I wish I'd thought to take a picture of it while it was warped.

So, C got it fixed for me, and gave it back. :) 

Since the picture is kinda lame (no camera, remember? I have to rely on my not-so-great cell phone camera), it's a solitaire tanzanite (since I don't like diamonds) with a Celtic trinity knot on either side, surrounded by a roped edge.

The way he gave it to me was sweet/funny. He picked it up sometime yesterday, and left the little white box sitting on his desk. I didn't notice it until I got back from group last night, and then it took all my will-power not to peek (although I desperately wanted to!). As a matter of fact, I was going to peek when I went into the room to change my shirt, but both C and B were there, so I took it as a sign and gave up the idea of peeking.

Five hours later, I finally asked C, "What's that white box?" He laughed, because he had figured that hiding it out in the open was the best way to keep it from me. (Back story: when he proposed the first time, he left the bag with the ring in it sitting on top of his dresser, and I totally didn't see it. At all. I  knew he'd gotten an engagement ring and hidden it, so I was actually poking around for it, but couldn't find it. So he took the same tack this time, thinking that I probably wouldn't see it. And, to his credit... it did take me several hours to notice it.)

So he tossed me the box and said, "You can look if you want to." Uh, yeah! Of COURSE I want to! But I didn't want to ruin any surprise, so I demurred for a moment or two, then finally lifted off the box's top to find... an old ring of mine that doesn't fit anymore that had been sitting in his dream box.

He laughed as I spluttered, saying, "I did take some precautions, you know!" Immediately, I reached for the dream box and revealed my shining prize.

Later, I confided to C that I had "totally been expecting you to propose!". He said that he could use this ring, but that he didn't want to propose here (his apartment), like this. It needed to be... something better, he said. (I agree wholeheartedly.)

So I misjudged that one. I know it's still coming, but now I'm deliciously in suspense.

Good. I love surprises. :)

It's been almost a week since I blogged last. When was the last time THAT happened?!

Had company over the weekend (15 ppl!), got sick from overdoing it, went to work for S-- who doesn't have internet-- then I spent 26 hours on the road, followed by a few days recovering.

Working for S is always a challenge to my heart, and not just because it's where D used to live. (Actually, this time around, I found that I am quite satisfied with the fact that things didn't work out with D. Listening to some of the things S said about him, I realized that he was/is totally not ready for anything serious, and that's what I was wanting. No wonder he ran off and wouldn't talk to me! Which is a huge red flag for not being able to communicate through difficulties... Yeah. I'm glad that one didn't work out, in retrospect.)

You see, S is very lonely and unhappy. M is described by S as a workaholic and emotionally distant, though he seems like a nice enough guy to me. (Then again, I'm also not his wife...) So she performs in order to win/keep his esteem and affection and respect. That being said, anyone that she brings in to help her is automatically under the same pressure that she puts upon herself, because the how the hired help performs reflects on her performance, and she's got a lot more at stake than just gas money. Love is on the line for her, and so the pressure becomes stifling. It feels like I can't do anything right, like I'm this big clumsy oaf, and it's awful. Not that she says anything disparaging, because that's just not her style. It's more of a lack of affirmation and the constant flow of comments that let you know that her way is the way that will work-- always. Her way is the way, and it's the best way, and your way just really isn't good enough for any number of reasons. It's enough to shrink a person to lilliputian size, to just let that frail woman walk all over you because it's easier than trying to prove yourself night and day.

And maybe that's what she needs-- the knowledge that she's good, she's the best, she's worth something... because she feels that she has no worth outside of her immaculate housekeeping and prolific canning and gardening...?

What a sad life.

Somewhere on the last day, I put my finger on it-- I was succumbing to a "shame attack". The tapes in my head that replay that discordant refrain of "not good enough, never good enough" were kickstarting again, and I was really feeling low. (That always happens over there...) I was gearing up to outperform, to overdo, to win affection and approval by force, if necessary. Then I realized what was happening. I wasn't able to totally stifle and stymie those tapes, but it was better. I realized that I don't want to live that way anymore, I don't want to be that person. I needed to do my best, to be sure, but toward what end? Toward the end of simply knowing that I've done all I can do, and done it to the best of my ability, and that a streak on the window doesn't somehow lessen my value or lower my lovability. (Yeah, ridiculous, right? But that's the kind of pressure that broods in that home.)

I didn't realize until spending time teetering on the verge of that trap how very free I've become. And I relish it.

S and I parted on good terms, but I was sure glad to hightail it out of there. I managed to pack everything into my little Buick, and the car held up well for the return trip. About twelve hours in, it got a little sluggish, but I had to keep plugging along. I am not sure I've ever been so anxious to get home.

I got very sick on the way, and I am now convinced that I have a potent potato allergy. That, in conjunction with the altitude and the heat, made me very ill. I had to stop and rest for an hour, talking on the phone with Mom to calm me down, because I was experiencing asthma-like symptoms and I had nothing with me to help with asthma. That happened again in the wee hours of the morning, but I called C that time. (Common denominator? Baked lentil chips with potato starch and flour as the second and third ingredients. And a semi-asthmatic response as well as the gut pain. No, no anaphylaxis, please!!)

I do miss the NW, to be sure. I miss the S's. I miss K, but I'll have those beautiful business cards she came up with as a consolation prize.

The day before I left to S's house, C and I sat on the bench outside with prickly pear lemonade in fancy glasses, and just chatted. I want to send her a little thank you note for that, because it was really wonderful. I miss having that mother figure around, because I don't have that in these parts. I'm the adult, here. Mer.

Ahh, but the homecoming was grand. I was tired, but I made it. (Two 5-hour energy drinks is what it takes to get me to or from ID safely, I've found. They typically last me about 8 hours.)

I walked into C's room and he didn't know who had just come in, but when he saw me he leapt out of the chair, and we embraced. My arms around him, his arms around me, one hand on the back of my neck holding me to him... it felt like he was cradling me, and it was so nice. We swayed back and forth, just holding each other, for a very long minute.

For two weeks, that was all I had wanted-- to be back in C's arms. And finally, finally, there I was again. Bliss.

It was funny, though, because I was so tired, I felt like I was drunk. I could hardly walk straight, and I was seeing things. (Probably because I had worked hard all day before I even set off on my drive home, so I was already tuckered out.) C helped me into bed, and I crashed for somewhere around 12 hours.

This weekend has been Recovery Weekend, basically. I haven't done much of anything but hang out, sleep, and a little bit of eating. I did go grocery shopping and bra shopping, and we did go see a movie Fri afternoon. Other than that... it's been very blah. And that's fine. I know the coming weeks will be busy enough what with work and getting ready for school and all.

Oh, yes. C's surprise.

I was all geared up to get the surprise when I came home, but while we were on the phone on my drive home, he told me that it'll be 6 to 8 weeks, because of the "other people" involved in the surprise. (I know what that means, though I won't let on that I know. It means the ring's in the shop, but he didn't expect it to take that long!) And, while I was suspicious, now I'm certain. How, you ask? Easy-- because I gave him back the engagement ring that he had given me once upon a time when we got back together and knew we wanted to get married. I gave it back so that he could re-use it, but the problem is that it had fallen off of my keychain at one point and been run over by an Expedition, so it was warped. He took it, and it got put in his dream box for safekeeping. I would check on it periodically, to make sure it was still safely tucked away, and so did he, because every now and then I'd find it out of the box, lying on the desk where he'd left it. Now, however, the ring is gone. Completely gone. So I know he's getting it fixed, and probably getting some additional stuff put on it like he said he might do.

I have some processing of emotions to do with this whole "settling down" thing, but I think I'll put that in a separate entry, because it could potentially take up a lot of space.

For now, I'm just so happy to be back home with my beloved... and happy to be getting copious amounts of sleep!

It's official-- I'm a crazy cat lady.

My friends up in ID joked that I should go into rescuing kitties full-time, and I'm inclined to agree with them.

I was settled comfortably cross-legged on my bed, ready to balance my bank account, when I heard this repetitive noise through my window. Thinking it to be a bird, I ignored it at first, but then the thought came to me, That sounds like a kitten meowing. Listening more closely, the sound galvanized me into action. I quickly strode outdoors, heedless of my bare feet.

I followed the sound to its apparent origin, but I didn't see anything. The almost desperate mewling had stopped. I made a small clucking sound with my tongue, and was startled when a meowing kitten nearly exploded from the brush before me and clambered over my feet. The little black creature was tiny, fitting neatly into my cupped hands, but I hadn't reckoned what a spitfire this kitten was! Ineffectual hissing and clawing made sure that I dropped that kitten in a hurry.

After fetching a pair of flip-flops for my thorn-encrusted feet and grabbing a can of cat food, I re-attempted the wooing of the kitty. A few minutes into the process, I realized that this little one was in need of help, so I scooped it up and carried it indoors with a minimum of protest.

And now... I find myself the possessor of a tiny black kitty. It is so young, its eyes are still blue! I can't keep it, though I want to... After all, I just rid myself of Holly not too long ago. (Funnily enough, I was thinking to myself just this morning how nice it was to not have a cat anymore, since I'm gone at all hours of the day and night and trying to take care of a cat would be a pain. Now, I have a baby who can't even eat on its own yet. Of course. ^_^)

Well... I hope C is okay with my rescuing animals. He's going to have to deal with it for a long time to come.