*knock-knock* "Hello? Oh crap. No freakin' way. NOT YOU AGAIN."

No news is good news, or so they say, and the last few months, I'm happy to report, have been chock full of good news!  My classes are going swimmingly, I love everyone at my part-time job at Border's, and I've started dating someone whom I just love being around.  My best friend is back from Canada and I get her all to myself tomorrow night, and I've even managed to reconnect with friends who make me proud to call myself their friend.  Really, I can't emphasize this enough: in the general scheme of my life, this is a pretty good time to be me.

And yet... it's back.  By "it," those of you with personal knowledge of the big scary monster under the bed known as "my disease" (or "your disease," that's kind of my point), will understand my trepidation at even the tiniest signs that I could be thrust back into last year's state of affairs.

Click for larger image.  Dooo it, do it.

It started last night nearing the end of an ambitiously long day.  I got up at 6:30 to finish homework for a 9 am class, was in class until 1:15, drove straight to work where I stood without sitting at a kiosk for four hours straight, had dinner break from 6-7, and then ran around as a floater between the different stores for the next 2 hours.  I could feel it starting in my first class.  My hands starting to gnarl up, my joints locking and pretending to inflame.  No bueno.  I ignored it through my second class and went to work, where my back and shoulders started to follow suit.  Sometime around 4 pm the crazy part of my brain started to suggest that maybe all this standing had actually caused my bones to get mini-hairline-fractures, because that's what my calves were starting to feel like.  By the time 7 pm floater time came around, I was gripping stock between the palms of my hands to avoid having to curl my fingers into anything resembling a grip.

Ok, that part was kind of funny.  I looked really ridiculous.  My coworker was obviously nicer than me, because I probably would have laughed at the spectacle.  Well, maybe not, but I can laugh at myself anyway.

So now here I am, unable to hold my own body weight up with my arms, in pure awe that I finished this post, and seriously worried that this period of health I've been enjoying was a cosmic joke.  Sorry to be such a downer today, guys, but some days are just depressing, ya know?  And yeah, I'm calling my doctor today.  Provided I can work the buttons on the damn phone.  I'm kicking myself for scoffing at voice recognition technology. IT NEVER DIALS WHAT YOU TELL IT TO.  But, on the upside, no painful button pushing... and hey, maybe the random Hispanic man I end up accidentally calling will help connect me to my doctor.  Plus I'll make a new awesome friend.  Silver lining! Kind of! Whatever, I need a win today, so it counts!

Image courtesy of Allie Brosh of Hyperbole and a Half fame.
Click that link for the rest of the article.  She's AWESOME.

Speaking of needing wins, the new episode of "How I Met Your Mother" is hilarious.  Check it out immediately.  Robyn out.

Stop the world, I want to get off!

"The World Spins Madly On" by The Weepies, set to scenes from Across the Universe

My best friend pointed out in an email today that I've not been posting much.  While I think she was probably referring to my other blog, I just don't have the patience for a fashion post today.  In fact, I don't have the patience for much of anything lately, and that's kind of exactly the problem.  My health problems, today at least, are of my own creation.  My back and hips are killing me and I'm exhausted and a little nauseated.  I have unidentified bruises and unfortunately identified scrapes, all because I let my drinking take on a "no brain cell left behind" kind of fervor this past Saturday.  For the record, it was fun, and I'm not getting on anyone's back for the same behavior.  Sometimes it's totally okay and even downright HEALTHY to let loose and just have a good time, but my knowledge of myself and all of the tiny but telling things I've been doing to myself the past couple of weeks let me know that something's not quite right.  I'm off my diet, I'm unfocused, I'm completely aimless.  The only productive activity I've been keeping up with really is running, and that's more because, emotionally, it satisfies my need to escape from myself right now.

THE PENDULUM EFFECT.  Except this is just a picture of a pendulum.
But you get where I was going with this, right?

My best friend also pointed out that I may just be suffering from the pendulum effect.  I was stuck inside my house for so long, almost two years really.  I wasn't even able to go to my lame ass five-year reunion, which would have been fine if it were for the same reasons most of my friends skipped it-- they have a life, they're out of town, did I mention it was kind of lame?  But what BUGGED me about it was that the reason I missed it was because I was sick.  I was less than a mile away from the damn thing, under my covers, praying for my pain medication to kick in and let me sleep.

So her point was that now that I'm feeling better, it's completely natural to kick out in the opposite direction and try to do everything at once.  I'm applying for jobs, applying for a loan, trying to be at every party and reconnect with every person that I lost during my two-to-three-year absence from life.  And I'm being self-destructive while I'm at it.  I'm running around like the proverbial headless chicken, and I think the reason I'm doing it is because I'm so fantastically afraid that any minute, my time will be up, and I'll be sick again.  And I'll have to wait another two-to-three years to be fun again.  To be 24 again.  Or 21 again.  Or, what would it be then, 27 again?  The irony of the situation, of course, is that my current bedridden-ness-- the reason I slept til 2 and have spent my day wearing a path between the couch and the sofa-- is solely because of this kind of unhealthy behavior.  Because I've been super responsible at times to no end at all, and so now I'm testing to see exactly how irresponsible I can be before my body completely gives up on me.  And it's not healthy.  And frankly, it's starting to screw with my head in a big way.

So, readers, please meet me where I am today.  How do you move forward in a life where nothing is certain?  How do you move beyond punishing your body for being such a douchelord for so long?  Oh, and while I'm at it, how do you write a blog post where you don't use words like douchelord because your mom reads this blog?  HI MOM.

Seriously, I've got to know.  How do you get over the "tragedy" of your lost youth and just move forward with LIFE before that is lost too?

Failure at Facebook, but maybe not so much at life?

Image Source

Well, for the record, my no-Facebook pledge lasted maybe an hour before I got an email in my inbox and, you know, just HAD to go respond right away.  Oh brother.  I'll try again later when my will is more stalwart, but for now I think I've still dialed down some of the obsessiveness.  Though leaving the house would surely help as well.  I'm not housebound physically anymore, but since I currently work from home (freelance) and am fairly broke (um, results of the freelancing...), I don't have many reasons to leave the house during the day other than doctor's appointments and occasionally running/walking.  I do still go out at night sometimes, but it's just not the same-- sunlight makes me happy!  I'm just starting to feel like a vampire or something.  Bleh.

Image Source

My doctor's appointment on Monday went just fine.  Dr. M. put me back on antibiotics, but just doxycycline and not the other two, in order to mitigate the negative tummy reactions.  I'm still on probiotics and she prescribed a bunch of different supplements that I now have to go about collecting.  They're all from random online companies, too... one even from an Ebay store run by another doctor.  I've kind of been putting it off, but I'm totally going to get on that tomorrow.  By now, I've mostly learned my lesson about putting off my health for too long just because I feel fine now. Preventative action is the name of the game, people.

Image Source

In other news, I've actually been exercising lately.  Strange, right?  I've already got shin splints, but I'm determined to keep at it.  I've been 3 separate times in the last week, which is pretty on target for me.  I used to imagine the clothes I could wear if I were toned enough as an incentive to make myself work harder (yeah, I'm one of those girls sometimes.  What of it?).  I realize that's shallow or whatever, but if it works, it works.

It's not what I'm going on anymore though.  I try to imagine myself the way I was before I got sick, one semester in particular when I really got into running at night (unsafe but exhilerating), took up yoga, played intramural softball, and started rock-climbing for fun.  I felt strong. Solid.  Invincible.  Of course the next semester I became terribly ill, so there goes the whole invincible theory, but the point is that I've felt health and I'm trying so desperately to feel it again.  This is really cheesy, but I like to listen to Fort Minor's "Remember the Name," while I run to remind myself that anything worth having is hard work-- it's not just me and how life is unfair blah blah blah ad nauseum, lol.  Maybe it's silly, but the song makes me feel empowered and tends to send any leftover victim mentality issues right out the door.  I'm not in control of everything, but I'm in control of some things, and it's dumb to whine about how hard they are.  It doesn't make them any easier or get them done any more quickly.

Oh, one last tidbit before I go.  I heard back from WFU that I actually only have one more English class to take, which means that the last class can be anything I choose.  Woohoo!  I think I'm going to take a journalism class by this awesome professor who guest-taught one of my classes last semester.  She talked about social media and online journalism and how exciting the changing world we live in is.  I dug it.  So I emailed her and she's going to make room for me in the class.  Hooray!  She writes books about living simply, and her blog is here if you're curious.

Saving myself from... myself. I'm pretty fearsome you know.

Gah.  I think I seriously need to go on a Facebook fast.  That's actually WHY I'm posting tonight, just to warn you all.  I've been in this crazy reconnect mode, which is good, but it's causing me to get semi-obsessive about Facebook, which isn't normal.  I've been doing all this reading about dating in the digital age recently because it's just such a weird phenomenon, this brave new world of technology and how it's changing the most fundamental ways we relate to people.  I bring it up because it occurred to me tonight that if I feel the need to connect with someone, I log on Facebook.  Or I send an email, or I get on Twitter and just send out the equivalent of a mass text.  You know what I don't do?  PICK UP MY TELEPHONE AND ACTUALLY CALL SOMEONE WITH IT.

I mean, maybe I'll send a text message. Maybe.  But a phone call, in this day and age, feels so... invasive. Isn't that weird?  With a few mouse clicks I can see someone's online social history for the last year.  If I want, I can read what my friends are saying to each other, and I can see all the events I'm missing.  And yet straightforwardly calling someone and actually asking for their precious, non-digital time feels really presumptuous.  Even with people I know really well!  Seriously, kids, is it just me?

Anyway, I haven't really figured out this whole Facebook dilemma and, frankly, I should probably be putting all that cognitive energy into something revenue-producing, like my freelance work, or into that novel I like to pretend I'm writing.  But instead I'm now making massive lists of new blog names, with my cousin's help, and trying to figure out how to take all of these driving-me-crazy thoughts and siphon them off into a place where I can get some feedback.  So I'm going to take a massive chill pill and take the next, let's say, three whole days away from Facebook.  And maybe I'll go get my damn cell phone fixed too so I can stop checking my text messages (it no longer makes a noise or anything when I get one, and I've missed a lot, so now I'm all paranoid).

In other, slightly more relevant news, I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow.  Some of you have been sweet enough to ask me how my treatment's going, and hopefully I'll have some more answers as of tomorrow.  I'm feeling great, to be honest, but just 2 weeks ago I got pitifully sick (back to the bed-ridden, writhing pain kind of thing) and had to take a break from the antibiotics.  So I'm probably going to have to start taking those again, provided the Lyme didn't just decide to up and leave.  Which would also be just fine by me.  I need to stop being such a priss about some of the medical tests too.  When I was miserable, I did ANYTHING they asked me to (weird science, anyone?).  Now that I'm feeling better, I have more things on my to-do list than just my medical care (yay!) and sometimes when they want me to do some complicated test... I dunno I just put it off.  Not responsible in the least, I know, but it's what I've been doing and I need to redouble my efforts.  On a positive note, however, I've started exercising again, so that's good.  I overdid it a little last week, but I went for a nice long run today and actually feel relaxed now instead of sore.  Amazing.  Borderline miraculous, to tell you the truth.

Oh, and there's this:

That's all I got for today.  I answered everyone's comments in a massive comment on my last post, so if you're one of the sweet people who offered your kickass support, please check out my comment back!   You've all been so unbelievably awesome on this journey.  It's such a weird thing to have to explain-- you kind of have to experience it.  And I appreciate so much that you take the time to share and commiserate and cheerlead and all the other awesome ways you guys have reached out to me.  So thank you for sticking by me, even when good health calls me back to the land of the living and I miss the whole month of June.  Oops. Please pray that I'm not jinxing myself and that I continue to get better!  I know it's not all of your belief system, and that's cool, but I do pray for a lot of you and really care that your daily and long-term needs get met and that you find peace and happiness and, hopefully, healing.

Okay I'm done gushing.  Gross.

First image found at http://www.kavehjamali.com/weblog_more_en.asp?theid=55
Second image: http://kyleriedel.net/shuffle/?p=351
Third image courtesy of me. You're welcome.

It's ALIIIVE!

So, it's 2:08 am and I'm still awake.  Not really insomnia this time around... nope this is just good, old-fashioned, night-owl-ish-ness combined with a healthy dose of I-don't-give-a-damn.

Nessie over at lipstick, perfume, and too many pills gave me this sweet blog award, which I will try my darnedest to post on tomorrow.  Thanks, Nessie!  Truly the best part of this, though, was checking out all the other blogs that Nessie gifted the award too because, damn, this girl could be a blog curator if there were such a thing as a blog museum.  I'm just having a blast going through these puppies.  There's RA Guy, who draws comics, of which I am ALWAYS a fan (Hyperbole and a Half much?). Amanda over at All Flared Up is FUNNY in that awesome, irreverent sort of way, which can seem taboo sometimes when you're feeling as crappy as we sometimes do.  And Helen from Pens and Needles is starting to feel like my long-lost friend the more I read her posts.  So really, much fun to be had tonight on the interwebz.

But I think what I like best about reading blogs from other people with chronic illness-- and especially other young, single people with chronic illness-- is the fact that they make the same mistakes I do.  And that sometimes you can't even really call them mistakes because it's not like we took a gamble. I *know* what happens when I drink, and I *know* what happens when I stay out too late, and I *know* what happens if I push myself too hard for too long.  Yeah.  I get it.  The whole fragility thing.  Womp womp womp.

But, sometimes, I just don't care. I'm sorry.  Sometimes, if I'm not feeling my worst, and I have that anxious, "gotta get out of this house-," "my God I'm 24 years old and I never have any fun"- feeling... well, I'm going to get out of this house and have some fun.  And sometimes it's a mistake.  And sometimes it's the best thing I could have done for myself.  Because whether or not I get better after all, I'm not waiting around for my life to start.  It's happening.  Right now.  Right this very freakin' minute. And sometimes the threat of a crash just doesn't measure up to the threat of reaching 25 and thinking, what the hell did I DO last year?

So that's where I am right now.  Please don't judge me if one day my posts are about how I can't get out of bed, and the next day I'm on my way to a series of events.  Or sharing dumb stories about the stupid things people say in bars.  Or taking overly ambitious road trips.  Or even chaperoning a church youth camp in the middle of this heat wave (something I'm actually considering for next week, depending on how these stomach issues pan out).  It doesn't always mean I'm feeling that much better (though sometimes it does and that's awesome); it just means I'm juuuust enough better to start living my life again.

Oh, blogging, why are you so difficult right now?

It's been over two months since I've posted, and you know the old adage:  No news is good news. Unfortunately, this counts as news, so- you guessed it- I'm sick again.  I don't really have any details.  I haven't called the doctor yet and I don't know how long it will last, but I've been feeling bad for the last five days and it's been getting progressively worse each day.  It could just be a stomach bug, but having been chronic for so long, I'm definitely a bit overly-anxious these days!

And honestly, I'm having some issues with the lines between blog life and real life.  As I start to step back into the fold of... what? The rest of the world?  Normal-paced living?  Something like that.  Anyway, I've been feeling better, starting to move faster and see more people on a normal basis, and I'm just really cautious about being that girl who over-shares.  Because this blog is publicly attached to me, anyone can find me, and some of my more avid followers include my mom, my aunt and cousin in Ohio, and my little sisters.  So when things happen that I want to blog about-- like my penchant for being approached by only engaged/married/divorced men in bars  or the difficulty in differentiating between hangover-sick and beginning-of-crash-sick-- I generally decide against the risk.  I'm not really sure what to do with that right now.

Basically, it's hard being single, young, and sick.  Or should it be "BUT sick," in a way that kind of cancels out any dateability or friendability points gained by the first two factors?  It's weird.  I haven't worked in awhile, I'm not in school full-time, and I've been house-bound for the past couple years.  Soooo my social circle has shrunk quite a bit.  I love the people I know, but I worry about strangling them with my neediness, especially now that I've hit that 3-month post-relationship loneliness huddle.

So that's what's going on.  I have lots of thoughts and no idea what the rules are for Internet-sharing.  I'm trying not to let the Internet get in the way of all the things I need to start doing (part-time job, sign up for classes, start searching for a real career...), and I'm starting to have a little trouble staying sane through it all.  Of course, my body went ahead and slowed things down for me, so thanks for that, body.  Way to hold it down.  Or something.

Anyway, how do you guys decide how much to share?  I mean, really, if the point of doing this is getting to know people (thus showing my true self), being real, and you know, staying sane, how do you share what you want without cringing at the thought of your mom or distant friend or ex reading it?

Also, in unrelated news:  I'm watching an E! Special on Justin Bieber and COMPLETELY developing Bieber fever.   I just want to put him in my pocket for whenever I get sad.  So cute!  In a completely legal and appropriate way, thanks. :)

Weird Science

I was chatting with Annie of "It's Time to Get Over How Fragile You Are," and somehow it came up that I had tried a magnetic mattress pad for about a month while trying to find a treatment that would help me sleep and give me more energy.  I know a lady who swears by her magnetic bed, and she let me borrow a mattress pad she had that was the same technology.

I'm glad it helped my friend, but for me, it was a total no-go.  I could feel all the spots where the magnets were and it just felt really uncomfortable.  After a month I decided I was actually sleeping worse (which I didn't know was possible...), so I gave this treatment the boot.

Anyway, it got me thinking about all the advice I've gotten from well-meaning and often times informed (and some not-so-informed) people over the years, and I've gotta know...

What's the WEIRDEST piece of advice you've been given regarding your illness?  What's the weirdest treatment that you've actually tried??