Nothing overly dramatic to report.

I went to see The Nutcracker last night with the group ladies, as the local newspaper gave us all free tickets. That was really neat, and I took a friend from school with me. It's nice to be making friends, although I notice that I'm much more reserved here than I have been in the past. I think it has to do with the low energy levels... I just don't have it in me to maintain my current relationships and then add some on top of that! Anyway, the ballet was cool. They mixed in some contemporary-style numbers throughout the show, so it ended up being more like "Nutcracker: The Remix". I enjoyed it.

I'm making a crockpot roast for me and the guys today. We'll have a nice dinner together before Nerd Night starts up, and I'm looking forward to it. I even picked up some of those mini Martinelli's from the dollar store last week, since I had five extra dollars over my normal weekly food budget. C bought me dates and OJ concentrate, so I blended them together for a faux-pineapple glaze. We'll see how that turns out...

Finals are in ten days, so I'm really applying myself to schoolwork and study. Good news! I didn't miss a single day of class this last week! Also, I'm like .08 points away from having an A in my algebra class. That is exciting. I found this last week that I have a 99.6% in my A&P class, and I have over 100% in my other class. In addition to all that exciting stuff, I checked with financial aid, and I'm covered for this next semester, which means I can breathe easy about the massage course. Yesssssss! I'm still planning to apply for scholarships, however. The less of the government's money I have to use, the happier I'll be.

I'm doing better with the med side effects. Well, I was, anyway. The pharmacist told me that I can expect to be dealing with them for about a month or so... And that's probably when the meds will start really kicking in. It takes several weeks for them to begin to work. The side effects were diminishing toward the end of the first week, and I was optimistic, but then my dosage had a scheduled increase, so I'm going through it again. Thankfully, it's not quite as severe this time. Boy, can you imagine if they had started me off on the high dosage right away? I would have jumped off a bridge or something.

Unfortunately, from what I read about SNRI's (and Cymbalta in particular), it has "the discontinuation syndrome from hell", which means that, should I ever need/decide to quit, it's going to be rough. Really rough. I mean, the stuff is not addicting, but it's messing with brain chemicals, and that takes adjusting... and has ramifications. *sigh* Calculated risks, you know?

The day after my "I'm scared" day was better. I felt pretty good, so I put up the Christmas tree and studied and went to class and all kinds of stuff... then came down with a roaring headache. Ah, well, can't be completely free, I guess.

Yesterday was okay. I was limping by the end of the day, but it wasn't too bad. C didn't notice until we were walking and his arm was over my shoulder, so it couldn't have been too severe. I spent most of the day asleep, honestly. I woke up in time to throw on some clothes and drive to school, but class let out early so I came home and napped for... the whole afternoon. I think I woke up once to use the restroom, then I was out again. I got up in time to shower and get ready for the ballet last night. By the time my regular bedtime rolled around, I could barely crawl into bed. I didn't even brush my teeth.

So, besides the nausea/lack of appetite and the difficulty sleeping/unbelievable fatigue and the crazy dehydration... I'm doing okay. I have a headache today, too, but that's nothing a couple NSAIDs can't fix.

Oh, and guess what? If I drink alcohol while I'm on my new meds, my liver might explode! Enforced sobriety :) Not that I was a drinker before... Oh, yeah, and smoking will decrease the effectiveness. So I'm forcefully on the track to healthy living. That's funny... because I didn't do any of those things, anyway, but now I couldn't even if I wanted to!

Ahhh, yes. I forgot. SOULS is in town, as of today. Well... I'm sure there will be posts on that forthcoming.

I want to just avoid them (you know, 'cause I'm a backslidden heathen these days), but that's not healthy or productive. Plus I want to see A. I just don't want to get judged or criticized... and SOULS kids are so, so good at doing that... all in the name of the gospel. Of course.

So, we'll see. We shall see.

(Did I mention that I've got my tickets to go home for Christmas?!?!?!?! I get to see Peanut!! Uh, and the rest of the family too. Of course. ^_^)

I haven't told this to anyone yet... not even C... but I'm scared.

I'm scared of this fibromyalgia.

I'm scared at how rapidly and fiercely it's developing.

In the span of just a few short weeks it's moved from my lower body to my upper, and then on some days it hurts to walk now, and sometimes it hurts to use my arms/hands, and it's gotten to the point (and getting worse) that it hurts to be touched significantly. It hurts to exert effort. My muscles get fatigued with very little provocation. Even doing my hair can push me to the limit some mornings.

I'm scared.

I'm scared because, although it's hurt to walk some lately, today it hurt to walk. I thought about crying a couple of times today because of the pain, but then I thought better of it and worked on being grateful. But when I gave hugs all around to the girls at group... it hurt me.

That makes me want to cry.

My house is falling into disrepair because I can't keep up on the housework due to fatigue, and, well... pain. I made the bed just now, and it took a lot. And it hurt.

It hurt to make the bed.

You can't see it, but I'm crying.

I feel like my life is being taken from me.... and I'm scared.

The cute and sweet: C and I went grocery shopping last night. He came home and I mentioned that I needed to go buy water, but that I was tired and hurting and didn't want to... so he put on his jeans and made me go with him. And, because I was super fatigued and it hurt to walk, he suggested that I ride on the front of the cart while he pushed me. So I did.

While browsing the meat section, C automatically began checking the ingredients on the various products he was interested in, putting each one back when he came to some ingredient I couldn't eat. He knows my allergies just about as well as I do, and he automatically checks for them. Isn't that sweet?

Also, he won't kiss me for at least half an hour after he's eaten something I'm allergic to, and usually after washing it all down with some sort of drink that's safe.

Since we made the agreement that he would help support me until I'm out of school, he has given me money every Sunday without my ever saying anything. And he pays for whatever groceries I pick out while I'm with him.

While pulling out of the store parking lot last night, I told him, "I really appreciate your taking care of me."

"I don't mind."

"I know you don't, and it really impresses me. I mean, if you're taking care of me like this when I'm 'just your fiance' and you're not even legally responsible for me or anything, I know that I can trust you in the future, no matter what happens. I feel totally safe."

"Well, good."

"Yeah. It shows your character. You're a good guy."

And I know that, whatever kind of little family we end up with, I can trust him to take care of us and provide for us or die trying. I also know that he won't leave me because we fall on difficult times. Very, very comforting.

Now for the ridiculous: part of all this joint stuff that turned out to be fibro is that, at times, it can hurt to be touched a lot. And I'm super fatigued and don't have much energy to exert right now.

I'm going into a massage therapy training program where we'll be working on each other for literally hours a day.

Ahh, what curve balls life throws at me... I mean, who would have thought that the year I finally decide I'm going for my massage license I come down with something like this?!

Oh, well. At least it makes for a good, inspiring story :) Because I am going to complete this course and get my license. Even if it kills me. Which it very well may.

I went to the church that the fibro support group was at, only to be cornered by the pastor for half an hour while waiting to find that the meeting had been canceled. (The facilitator is in the hospital, so no one else showed.)

While making initial small talk, I mentioned that I'd moved here not too long ago, and that I ended up staying because of school and the fact that I got engaged. He asked where we went for premarital counseling, I told him, and he asked if that's the church we went to on Sundays. I said no, I don't go to church and C's an atheist.

And he was off.

I am angry. Angry because he automatically assumed that C has no morals, simply because he doesn't derive them from God or the Bible. Angry because obviously I must be making a rushed, ill-informed choice, getting married that quickly. Angry because I'm only 24, and so that means that I'm making a mistake no matter how well-intentioned I am, because he was just like me at that age. (So it must be true!)

He's not only a pastor, he's a counselor. That means that he's insufferable in his certainty that he knows more than I, and he can counsel me into doing the right thing. Here's the deal: everything he told me during that half hour (including the sermonizing on God's love and his plan for my life, etc. etc.), I already knew. Talking about baggage and how my baggage and C's baggage will compound and we won't be able to work it out... Yeah. I already know the effects of negative life experiences on relationships, thanks. He drew the "love triangle"- you know, agape, phileo, and eros? As soon as he drew that triangle, I labeled it for him.

*Pointing at each tip of the triangle* "Agape, eros, phileo."

He didn't even pause. He just wrote down the names and kept going. Oh, yeah, but he drew a heart in the middle and labeled it Jesus, I think. Because none of them are possible without God's love.

Dude, I went to Bible college. An SDA Bible college. You can't pull something as basic as that (thanks, Hope!) and expect me not to call it.

It was just so angering. I felt so invalidated as a person, like my experiences and thoughts and life don't matter, because this guy knows more than I do, and apparently knows more about my life from the six sentences he heard, and he can tell me how to run it better than I could ever do on my own. And because I'm young, I can't make valid decisions. Right.

He gave me a piece of paper that he signed, and said that I should bring it back to him in a year and tell him how miserable I am in my marriage and how I want a divorce, because it's going to happen.

Yeah.

He blatantly said that I will be unhappy and get divorced. Mostly because I'm 24 and too young to make good decisions yet, and because I have baggage (which he just assumed I haven't dealt with at all, ever), and because C's an atheist.

All that was interspersed with the predictable Christian spiel about God's love and salvation and healing (the healing stuff came after he found out that I had "baggage") and how he planned my life down to the very details. I was getting real tired of this, so I outright told him that God's planning sucks, because my life has been terrible.

Then he changed his tune and said that it was because of the pain other people have caused, and then went off on this tangent about the people that he's counseled and how he helped them find healing, etc., and then he got back on the baggage tack again, which was unfortunate. And annoying.

Sometime in there, mixed in with his testimony about how empty his life was before God even though he "had it all" (Right. Like I said-- predictable.), he asked if there were ever a time that I felt really hopeless and empty. I said yes-- while I was at Bible college. (Probably not what he expected to hear. But he forgets that he doesn't know me.)

So then it was because religion; religion doesn't save you, only God's love. Only Jesus.

Ugh. Get me OUTTA HERE!

I'm just... seething.

Like, dude. You don't know me. You don't know anything about me except for the surface things that I mentioned to you. Just because you're a counselor you think you automatically have me figured out? And that you can "fix" me? How dare you presume to tell me that I will be ready to divorce my husband in a year? Who do you think you are?!

Oh, because love is blind, and you don't see the flaws when you're in love....

Yeah, well, I think that C and I must have something else going on besides "love" then, because we've faced plenty of real struggles and obstacles together, and we're not in "happy floaty fairytale time" like you assume we are.

So I was tossing around the idea of maybe going back to church lately.... but now I'm just like, "Oh. Yeah. Christians. I forgot."

I hate knowing that I used to do that to people in my quest to be a good Christian. I feel shame and regret.

And the worst part is that he's probably off whistling through the rest of his day, happy because he "witnessed" to some cynical girl who was going to make a terrible mistake.... and I'm over here, steamed and seething, wanting NOTHING to do with happy-sappy-love and dire predictions of doom because I won't accept sage wisdom.

No wonder C steers clear of churches.

Ugh. Insufferable.

Later Note: I forgot to mention that the pastor also wrote his phone number down by his signature, in case I ever needed to talk, because he can counsel me and recommend some books and stuff.  Sure. Thanks, pastor.

He also emphasized that he didn't mean it as a challenge. It's not a challenge. Um, yeah, actually it is! When I told the story, all of us had the same reaction: "Challenge accepted." 

C is of the opinion that I ought to troll him-- keep his phone number, get his e-mail, and keep him forcibly updated on the continued health and happiness of my marriage. You better believe that I will be hunting him down in a year, paper in hand and C by my side, to prove him wrong. I want to frame that piece of paper for reasons that I can't fully articulate here... but partially as a reminder that naysayers do not determine the fate of any of my choices or the success of my marriage. It is up to me to choose a healthy and happy marriage each day.

The guys all tell me they're proud of me. I'm proud of me too, for standing up and vocalizing some of my disagreements with him, rather than just nodding along and smiling.

C laughed and laughed while I vented, because now I understand from personal experience what he goes through when he talks to "church people".  The automatic assumptions and blanket generalizations that are so infuriating are not unfamiliar to him.

It's funny, but I feel closer to C now, after this annoying incident... I understand him better, empathize with him. Funny.

My new medicine is not kind to me.

I took it before bed time last night, hoping that I'd be able to sleep through the ill effects, but I actually woke up because I was so sick. Though I managed to make it back to bed a few hours later, it was not a good night.

C thinks it's my body adjusting to the new meds... He won't let me quit taking them, not until I get ahold of my doctor on Monday. It's cause he sees people on psychotic medication (which anti-depressants fall under, I think) all the time at the jail, and he sees what happens when they abruptly stop their medicine, rather than tapering off. I guess he knows what he's talking about, but I still feel pretty miserable.

I'm headed off to that fibro support group in just a little bit. Maybe they'll have some insight or helpful tips?

I told C last night after we climbed into bed, "Well, we've got the 'in sickness' part down. Let's work on the 'in health' part!"

He replied, "Oh, that's the part that I've got. We're covered."

Hah. Funny boy.

Well, the two sides of the family have met at last. (Parts of them, at least.)

Gramma, Grampa, and I went to C's parent's house for Thanksgiving dinner. (Sort of parents... C's dad, R, and R's girlfriend, D.) D went out and bought me/cooked me all kinds of special food so that I could partake along with everyone else. I was flabbergasted and really honored. I think she likes me! :) Also, she's just a pretty amazing, generous person.

I remember being amazing at how wonderful and generous D's mom S was, back in up in Id, yet there was always something about her that made me a little uncomfortable... like she was expecting something from you somehow... There was a pressure to her generosity that made it so I was never fully at ease with her. D, though, is not like that. She's just generous, and you never feel pressured to be effusive in your thanks or that you'll have to match the gift later, nothing like that. It's kind of refreshing, actually. I want to be like that! (I have a feeling that I'm more of the former than the latter... and I know that I have some passive-aggressive ways about me. Trying to change that.)

Unfortunately, my new meds pretty much destroy me if I take them during the day, so I'm going to try taking them at night from now on. I took them in the morning so I was "off" all day, sad to say. I did thoroughly enjoy my time over there, though. My grandparents hit it off with C's family real well. Gramma hung out over by the kitchen with D and they swapped stories, and Grampa and R commandeered the couches to watch Dallas get slaughtered. (Ah, well, they made a good comeback, so I can't actually say slaughtered...)

During dinner, R kept us practically rolling with funny stories from his job (he is a deputy with the local Sheriff's Department). There was this one story about a couple of emus that they were called out to corral some years back that was hilarious. I can totally see C's facial expressions and gestures in R when he gets animated. (Or is it vice versa?) It's kinda weird, seeing him so happy and animated. I never saw that side of him when C's mom was still in the picture, sad to say. I'm glad to say that I (and everyone else who knows him) can see that I bring out the liveliness in C just like D does for R, and that's a good thing.

Also, roomie S showed up to hang out with D, C's brother, so that was fun. C and I (and S) went back over to his parent's after he got off of work, and D told me that she really liked my grandparents. Even S said that they were cool, which surprised him, because he knows they're very religious.

So, basically?  Project: Introduce The Families was a resounding success! D invited Gramma and Grampa over for New Year's, even though I won't be there, and they were pleased to accept the invitation! *Whew* I'm glad that went so well. I mean, I didn't expect it to be a problem, but you never know when drama might spring up for no good reason.

Well, I had my special doctor's appointment this morning. It ran super loooooong, and I ended up missing math class (and a big test). I did, however, get a doctor's note, and I can make up the test, so it's okay. Between a test and a diagnosis, I think I made the right choice. (Even if I did have to call Mom to help me decide whether to stay or not!)

So.

I have Fibromyalgia.

The doc's are also doing auto-immune tests to see what kind of involvement is going on there. They suspect connective tissue disease (but there are over 200 specific diseases under that umbrella, so we'll see where that leads!).

While conversing about this with J, she pointed out that I sounded really optimistic, and was I really okay with this?

Well, yes and no.

Part of me is ecstatic. I have a name for this soul-sucking nonsense. I can focus my energies on managing something real. Most importantly, I'm not crazy. This is a legitimate illness, albeit "invisible". And I can do research, figure out what kind of lifestyle changes I need to make to manage this better. I can manage something I have a name for. It's no longer that nebulous, nameless sickness that steals so much time from me, but something concrete that I can fight, manage, and work with. It's hard to fight a faceless enemy. You never really know if you're doing the right thing... or if it's all just chance.

Part of me though, is a bit crushed. I'll be honest. To be laden with the mantle of "chronic illness" at 24 is... well, it seems unfair. Why is my body so fragile and broken? I have my whole life ahead of me, and now it's tinged with the expectation of pain. It may go away, but it may not. It could be pain like this, every day, for the rest of my life. Fatigue, crippling me... keeping me from being the kind of mom that I want to be, the kind of wife that I want to be... the kind of employee that I want to be.

Will I be able to hike the Grand Canyon next summer? I don't know.

Will I end up in a wheelchair because it hurts too much to walk? It's a possibility.

Will I have days that I can barely muster the physical energy it takes to walk from my car to the classroom? Likely.

And the thought of facing that for the rest of my life is... daunting.

But.

But.

I'm sure some good is going to come out of this. Do I dare call it a tragedy? It feels a little like one to me, but on the other hand it doesn't. Maybe it's an opportragedy. Mostly opportunity with a little tragedy thrown in :)

So the docs put me on this antidepressant that's been proven to help with fibro. As uneasy as I was at the thought of being on antidepressants earlier this year (when I went to beg my doctor to help me overcome my horrific depression, and was told by my employer that if I got on antidepressants they'd have to let me go, which STILL irks me to no end), I don't mind so much now. Probably because it's not a mental thing that I'm working with, so I don't feel like "I can fix myself given enough time". It's physical, it's here, it's "permanent", and I know I can't go on living like I am.

And hey, this'll probably help with my depression, too. Two birds, one stone :) (Also, it's non-habit forming. Wheee-hew.)

I think more research is in order. I'm not just going to be like, "Okay, I have this, life goes on as normal." No way! I bet there are lifestyle changes I can make that would help... beginning with regular massages ;)

Also, I'm seriously asking questions about the role of seratonin now... Why does a Seratonin and Norepinephrine Re-uptake Inhibitor help with fibro? Is there some connection with chemical imbalance and the likelihood of fibro? Why is it mostly women in a certain age bracket that get it? What connection is there between depression and fibro/overactive nervous system? Because that's what fibromyalgia is, basically-- a hypersensitive nervous system. There's a bust in the chain somewhere that keeps pain signals going when there's no stimulus or reason for pain. A broken feedback loop.

It makes me want to go into neuropsychology even more. Oh, how I want to research these things!!!!