My Most Fortunate Mistakes

I have done some doozies in my time, let me tell you!! But some of the things I have kicked myself for, repeatedly, have turned out to be exactly the right thing to do, and have saved my @$$ in the long run... I thought that losing Seattle was a mistake, that I was leaving my home... And I was. But that move allowed me the key piece of information that I needed to take better care of myself: that dry air does me better. That allowed me a larger window in which to function, and ultimately got me to the better place I am today.

I have "chronic foot-in-mouth disease," but that opened the doorway to a whole set of new friends I never knew I could have. I though once I had lost the love of my life, and it turned out I dodged a bullet! I mean, there are some crazy twist and turns in life that I never thought could happen, good and bad, but I'll tell you something that has always helped me was a healthy sense of how lucky I am.

Oh sure, I've wine the health lottery in all the wrong ways, but I still have a mind. I still have enough good in my life to build success. I am super high maintenance, but in the most low maintenance way. Really, it is stupidly easy to make me happy. If I could be self-sufficient, the world would be right in so many ways. It's important that I keep the faith until it works out.

Funny thing is, about giving up.... That doesn't mean that you can't start again. All of us get knocked in the dirt a while. It's not about that. It's about making the right decisions, and sticking by the beliefs that make you, you... Not matter what darkness in your life may fall. Be responsible, and the world will reward you. Hang in there, keep trying, and even the mistakes we make can end up being a blessing in disguise.

If we just though about it for ten seconds, we'd realize that the problems we had ten years ago are not the same as the problems we have today. Some have gotten worse, but some have gotten better, and there is something to be thankful for if we think about it long enough.

We are constantly evolving creatures. Heavy weights that used to hang on my heart have been lifted. Not because of any sort of spiritual experience, but just because I got new information that changed my perspective on everything. What I once though was a terrifying experience, I later learned was an act of bravery. Little things, where I though I had failed, but I hadn't. Things aren't always how I see them to be. And that can have terrible consequences, or wonderful ones. And what we think is terrible turns into wonderful and vice versa.

Things change. We change. My concerns at 30 we're not the same as they are at 40, and certainly not the worries I had when I was 20! I *am* getting better and wiser with each stride, even the missteps... Especially the missteps. Because it is only when we are in free-fall, sure that our ass is about to kiss the pavement any second now and we have two choices. The correct choice is NOT "brace for impact." That will leave you stiff, and bones will break. The trick is: RELAX.

Yes, I know unintended free-fall is terrifying. I know you want to reach out in desperation to catch yourself, but that can cause more damage than just a fall would, if what we grab for is sharp, hard, or unfit to support our weight. It's terrifying to realize the pain of impact is coming. We want to save ourselves from that fate. We want to cling to something that can save us, and can pull down our lives around our ears as a result. (Or worse, other people...) But as long as we try to resist the situation, we're concentrating on denial, instead of learning acceptance.

First, if I relax, I have less chance of injuring myself or others. Second, if I relax, instead of trying to say "this isn't happening!!!" I can instead say, "this is happening, what's my best option?" And sometimes in these terrifying moments, if we can relax, we can see that key insight we need to save our butt from the fire. A lot of times, I can tap into my dancing muscle memory and use my momentum to collapse on the couch instead of the counter, and I count my lucky stars. Other times, I just need to relax through the landing, and hope I don't hurt myself too bad. Still other times, I can think it's free-fall, but it's an illusion, and I'm really on solid ground, not falling at all.


-- Relax. When you know you're going to be reunited with the Laws of Physics in a harsh way, relax.
-- Look on the bright side. When everything is at it's darkest, that's when a candle shines as bright as the sun.
-- Realize that time changes things, and our biggest worries can turn around in an instant with just a piece of information we didn't have before.
-- Forgive yourself your mistakes, and realize that not all mistakes turn out like we think. Life is full of so many surprises, and we could be completely incorrect about what we though we did wrong.
-- Be true to people. This world is hard, and fairness something rarely seen. We should be good for the sake of goodness, because there's not enough in the world.

I'm so grateful for these mistakes... Sometimes it is wonderful to be wrong.

My Secret Triumph

I've read a lot of posts in online communities for people who have chronic health issues. One common complaint I hear is how other people don't understand how hard it is for us to do even the most simple things. In their frustration at their loss of ability, they feel sorry for themselves. I've been there. I've done the moping. I totally understand. Getting a chronic illness sucks! But there's a way to flip that around. There's a way whereby we can look at our struggle over easy daily tasks and we can realize that we are MIGHTY. By the very fact that it is more difficult for us, we can then take pride in doing even the most mundane things. It's all a matter of perspective.

And that's my secret triumph. Most people have to go out and run marathons, or hike a 14,000' mountain to do a great thing. I just have to get the laundry done (now there's a Herculean task!). People don't understand how difficult that can be. Which is fine with me. I can take pride in it myself, knowing that I have been stunningly awesome every time I can get that simple task done. Oh, sure, for them it's easy. But then, they have an easy life without chronic illness. That's no big deal for them. It is for me... and for that reason, I can have an amazing amount of pride in myself, just for getting through my day.

I don't have to write the next great American novel. I don't have to conquer the elements in some great quest. I don't have to discover the cure for the common cold (beer) or find the cure for cancer (cannabinoids). I just have to wake up in the morning and take my pills on time. Right then, I've already saved a life for the day: my own! Everything after that is gravy.

If I am able to achieve some semblance of "normal," then that's incredible. I have to obey a lot of very strict rules, and do some really crazy things in order to reach normal. I have to get 11 hours of sleep on work nights (plus Friday, because I'm usually at my rope's end by then). That means going to bed at 7:30, so I can be up at 6:30 in time for work. It takes me two and a half hours to get ready in the morning, because I first have to get all my medications in my system and get them properly digested before I can do anything else. After they kick in and start working (usually an hour before I notice the effect) then I can get started on my day like a normal person (get dressed, brush my teeth, etc.). By the time I'm driving to work, I've already accomplished a miracle! My day hasn't even started, and already it's amazing.

Then, every day that I'm able to come to work and have people think that I'm normal just like them... that's another miracle. I'm able to manage my symptoms through my day so that they're largely invisible to everyone else. I'm able to complete my work, and no one else is wise to the fact that I'm fighting to keep this up. I'm fighting... and I'm winning. Every day is a struggle, and every day, I work to make it seem like it isn't there at all. My success depends on no one else knowing how hard it is, as though it's no bother at all.

My self esteem comes from my ability to make my problems no problem. It's a lot of work!!! And each and every day I can be proud of myself for my efforts. No one else knows how much I struggle, and I like it that way. The less they know about my disease, the more successful I am. Like the graceful swan who is gliding on the surface and paddling like crazy beneath the water, so too do I make all this struggle look effortlessly beautiful. That's my secret triumph: I make this look awesome.

So, rather than feel sorry for ourselves for all the extra things we have to go through each and every day (not to mention the crazy drama that pops up as a matter of course), my suggestion is take all of that anger and turn it into pride. Yes, it's difficult to the point of tears. But if you can manage it, and do so without the tears, well then, look at how mighty you are! If you can put up with hellfire and brimstone, and do it with a smile and a cheerful attitude, there's no better way to cheat the devil. Be proud of every little thing you can do, because these diseases want to make it so we can't. Hold your head high, just for the fact that you endure. That alone is mighty enough.

But I don't look sick? Thanks! I work very hard to keep it that way. ;)

Fighting Bitterness

As I began to look back on 2012 and what I've achieved, I have to admit, it's been a pretty phenomenal year. But suddenly, I was thrown into cognitive dissonance. It's been an amazing year!! So why don't I feel amazing? I struggled for weeks wondering why. I realized that I'm full of bitterness. Full-to-the-brim angst that would put the Grinch and pre-reformed Scrooge to shame. I had to ask myself, what gives? It's all been progress. Why am I still miserable?

It took a while, but when an old friend contacted me, it all came rushing back. Yes, this life is VERY successful, given what I have to deal with. But it's a second-hand life. It's not my primary life. I had that life. I was amazingly happy before this all came crashing to a head, changing my world forever. I had to leave the one place I called home, because the climate there was triggering epic levels of pain, both for my migraines and my neuropathy. That, and all but two pain clinics were pressured to go out of business, and the last to were being pressured to not use narcotics at all. And I need narcotics. My home cast me out. It broke my heart. I still haven't recovered from that.

When I visited Seattle to hook up with my old doctor to see if she could help, it was like all this tension just melted from me. I was relaxed. I was joyful. My spirit was uplifted. Until, of course, towards the end of the trip when the pain started to seep in again. Then it broke my heart all over again. I love everything about Seattle, including the ever-present rain and the terrible traffic. There is a celebration of the individual in Seattle that makes it so no one has the right to judge. To each their own! And glory to it. That was home. I wanna go home. And I can never go home.

I've found where I need to be, and I need to find a way I can make peace with it. However, it seems the more I learn about the character of my new home, the more I don't like it. I've met a few spectacular people, but on the whole, I am not a fan. I'm sure that to several thousands of people, this place is their home. Just not me. And I struggle to fit in, in a place I don't wanna be. Do you think Adam & Eve were able to get over getting kicked out of the garden of Eden? Because it feels like I was kicked out of paradise.

I loved my life. LOVED it. It wasn't perfect, but it was wonderful, and filled with wonder. Ten years later, it's as if I'm waking from a crazy nightmare, only to find that everything that was familiar and comfortable is gone. I can't dance. I can't even be around the music to dance. I can't paint. I still have the skill, and my ability has even improved, but I can't hold a paintbrush long enough---my hands, they betray me. My body betrays me. It has taken what gave me joy and perverted it into an exercise of torture. I can't even get too interested or excited about a subject, lest I blow a migraine. I feel like a butterfly in a bell-jar, beating my wings against an invisible force-field, unable to fly.

I knew what made me happy. Now I can't do any of that. And I can't figure out what to do in its stead! I wouldn't feel so robbed, if I could replace it with something else. That, however, is easier said than done. I spend 30 years figuring out myself and what I wanted. Now, most of that information is pretty useless, if not downright hazardous. I have to come up with an entirely new list of things to make me happy, and I don't even have a clue where to start! Thinking about it sure doesn't help, because all it turns into is rumination on those things lost to me.

Certainly, I don't want to live mired in bitterness, unable to enjoy the success of 2012, but I don't know how to fix this!! Halp!

No Happy Thinking Required

I'm bringing this post back from the vaults, it's a post from the very early days of this blog, when I had little exposure. Now that a few of you are listening (*waves*) I'd like to revive this piece.

First, let me introduce you to this internet gem... (edited for work-safe content)

A 23-year old medical student makes lists of all the tasks that he must accomplish each day. He spends hours studying and refuses to go out with his colleagues even when there are no tests on the immediate horizon, preferring to spend his time looking at specimens in the laboratory. He keeps meticulous notes during all his classes and prefers to attend every lecture, not trusting his colleagues to take notes for him. He is doing well in school and has a girlfriend who is also a medical student. Which of the following disorders does this student most likely have?
A. OCD
B. Obsessive-compulsive personality disorder
C. Obsessive-compulsive traits
D. Schizoid personality disorder
E. Paranoid personality disorder
[and written in] F. F*** you, that sounds totally normal. A**hole.
[Full article: http://www.globalnerdy.com/2011/05/04/thats-not-ocd-youre-just-a-slacker/]

Now, let's look at this little gem picked up from a site offering professional services (yes, for money) for coping with chronic pain ...

Catastrophic thinking involves magnifying a negative situation so that it seems more negative than it is, worrying and ruminating about it, and holding pessimistic beliefs about the future. It makes coping with pain more difficult.  Here are some examples:

“My back is killing me.” (magnification)
“I can’t stop worrying about what my headaches might mean.” (worry and rumination)
“No treatments will ever help me.” (pessimism)
“My life is ruined because of my pain.” (magnification)
“I spend most of my time thinking about my pain.” (worry and rumination)
“I’ll never get better.” (pessimism)
Catastrophic thoughts don't help you cope with the pain.

*rolls eyes* Here's my take on the above:

My disease is killing me. I carry an emergency shot and wear a medic alert in case it tries to suddenly, which it has. Ain't a magnification if it's true. And I have to remember how fragile I am so I can act with the appropriate care. That's just responsible.

If I stopped "worrying" about what my headaches might have meant, I'd be dead now, thanks. I'm going to continue to "worry" about my symptoms, because symptoms mean there's something wrong, a**hole! (to steal from the line above...)

No treatment is possible right now. That's not pessimism, that's just a fact. Soon as that changes, I'll do a dance of joy, but until then, I've got to live with reality... not "someday."

My life has been ruined because of my pain. My career? Over. Finances? FUBAR. Credit score? Ha! Having progeny? Not possible. Scars? Lots. Irreparable damage to my body? You bet. That life? Gone. I will never be the same. Again, not a magnification if it's true.

I do spend most of the time thinking about my pain. But that's because I'm usually IN pain. I use denial as much as possible, but I can only do so much of that safely. And there are other responsible reasons to think about it even when I'm not in pain. Worry and rumination aren't inherently bad things!

I'll never get better. This is both true and not true. I'm not going to get better but I can live better. This is a degenerative disease. The only thing I can reasonably hope for is better management of my symptoms. But it's like throwing a wet blanket over a radio: sure it muffles the sound, but the problem is still broadcasting loud and clear. That's realism, not pessimism.

*sigh*

The problem with these well-meaning sites is that there are going to be people, like me, who look at that list and think they're failing somehow because they can't get to these so-called benchmarks of psychological health. But it's not a failing of ours... it's a no-win situation imposed by our disease. 

So let's try rewriting that list a bit more positive-realistically...

My disease is killing me, but it's been losing so far! Ha!

My symptoms may mean something important. I will trust my intuition and work with my health providers to create a constructive plan in addressing them. 

No treatment may ever help me, but I can keep an open mind and give new ideas a chance to work. Even if no treatment ever does help me, I can say that I tried and find other constructive things to do with my life in the meantime.

My old life was ruined by my pain. So I'm making a new life that thrives despite the pain.

I may spend most of my time thinking about my pain, but I make sure that it is within reason. If it is to prepare for, manage, prevent or resolve my pain, that's responsible thinking. If it's to look for new opportunities or advancements in pain treatment, that's okay. But I will make sure I also have information on current events so I can keep up with polite dinner conversation.

I'll never get better, but I don't have to. I can do the best with what I've got left and make this look Awesome.

I lived for years without hope. Hope can be a liability when dealing with a chronic illness. I got tired of hoping this next drug would work only to be disappointed time and time again. My heart would break each and every time the treatment failed. It became too much.

So I said: Screw hope. I don't need it. I don't have to believe in these pills to make them work. It's not like in Peter Pan where I need happy thoughts to be able to fly. All I need is tenacity. All I need to do is not. give. up.*

And the strangest thing happened... I improved my situation anyway. No hope or happy thoughts required.

There's a story from WWII about the allied forces hearing that the Germans were taking no prisoners; they were just slaughtering everyone. The Germans believed this would have a demoralizing effect: taking all hope away. What soldier would want to fight if it was certain they were going to die? Why fight when there's no hope of a tomorrow?

It had the exact reverse effect. When the allies figured there was no way out, the muscled up. The Germans aren't taking survivors? Well, let's take out as many as we can because that's the best we can do. They fought like tigers.

I say, so what if the situation is hopeless? That just makes me standing up to it that much more awesome. Yeah, this disease is big, scary, and frequently totally overpowering. It sucks. It's unfair. It's only gonna get worse before it kills me. So what? No one gets out of this life alive... but I can face it with dignity until then.

"Our arrows will be so numerous they will block out the sun." - Persian emissary
"So much the better...then we shall fight our battle in the shade." - Dienekes, Spartan 

As recorded by Herodotus, Battle of Thermopylae, aka The Last Stand of the 500

P.S. I learned that you *can* give up, if only for a little while. I gave up for a few months here & there... but I would get tired of that, and eventually get back to researching, networking, reading, etc. And when I got back too it, I found all sorts of wonderful new discoveries in my absence. So don't feel bad if you have to give up for a while. You can't stay at the front all the time.

Stop Negative Thoughts

Before I started therapy, my mother used to live in my head. She'd watch everything I did, and provided a constant stream of negative feedback. If I did something wrong, she'd yell at me and let me know how stupid I was for not seeing these consequences ahead of time. If something was wrong, she'd explain to me how it was all my fault, and that this was evidence of how rotten I was. If it wasn't my mother, it was my grandmother ("You dummy!") or my father ("Goddamnit, get your $#!+ together!"). They would scream at me, in my head, all day long, and then made sure to take a thorough inventory of everything I'd screwed up, and tell me all about it as I was trying to fall asleep. It was a brutal mental onslaught. And no matter how much I screamed back at them (in my head), I couldn't get them to shut up.

Finally, I asked my counselor: "How do I get that voice in my head to shut the f**k up?" (I had an awesome relationship with my counselor.)

"I'm so glad you asked," she said smiling. "Most people don't have the courage to admit they have that voice---or voices---in their head. They think it makes them crazy. But that's perfectly normal. Would you like to do some EMDR* on it?"

"Yeah! That's be great."

EMDR, for Eye-Movement Desensitization Reprocessing, is a type of therapy that allows the patient to detach from emotionally-charged memories, and look at them from a less personal point of view. And my counselor had special training for trauma recovery designed in Seattle. And she knew what was coming, because it was something true of all people...

What I discovered was, it wasn't my mother, or my grandmother, or my father yelling at me. It was ME. It was my inner child, scared and insecure, who had put on Masks of Authority to appear like my mother, etc., so that I would pay attention and be careful. It was actually a perverse form of self-love, where I was trying to protect myself, by getting mad at myself. When I was screaming back at myself, all I was doing was yelling at my most vulnerable self.

So, instead of fighting fire with fire, my counselor gave me a new thing to say:

Hi, I understand that you are trying to protect me, but this is not helpful right now. If you could leave me alone for a little, I'd be able to concentrate on this more, and be more careful. So, could you please be quiet for a little while? I appreciate your trying to help, but I'm okay right now. Thank you.

Later that night as I was setting about some chore, the Voice started up with it's barrage of negative commentary. I stopped and recited what my counselor told me. And, like magic, the voice went away! A sense of lightness came over me, and I was able to complete my chore in peace. I even did a really good and thorough job. So I stopped again and told my inner child:

See? Everything worked out! You don't have to yell and scream at me for things to work out. It's okay. I've got this managed.

Since then, that voice is mostly gone. Oh, sure, it pops up every now and again, but I just remind it of what I told it the first time, and it goes away again. I am, for the most part, left at peace. And it's a beautiful thing.

Try it! Share your result here!

Nervous working...

I know my co-workers probably think that I'm lazy. I don't roll into work until 9:30 sometimes. I take flex days where I work 4-day weeks or half-days sometimes. But what they don't know is my mornings are explosive sometimes. I may roll in at 9:30, but I've been up since 6am. I've just been trying to get myself right so I can handle my workday.

I have to take pills to keep me alive. These must be taken in the morning. I wake with nausea, every day (part of the nerve damage). I still have to keep the pills down. So first, the nausea must be managed, and there's no telling how long that's going to take. It could be fifteen minutes... It could be an hour. Or two. I've learned to wake up early and give myself a lot of wiggle room. Right now, I'm taking time out---every few minutes writing a few words---as I try to manage this migraine that decided to upset plans this morning. Oh yes, beyond the usual monkey wrench, there's also the occasional uber-monkey-wrench. There is no negotiating with a disease.

So I have to start waking up earlier and going to bed earlier. I've made a new resolution to go to bed at 8:30pm and asleep by nine, so that I can wake up comfortably after a solid night's sleep at 5:00 in the morning. That should give me enough time to wrestle with my illness and still make it into work at a decent hour.

Today, however, is not that day! lol (*ow* migraine!)

I'm just glad that my work is solid enough that they're willing to be flexible with me. I am very fortunate, and very grateful. It was this flexibility that allowed me to work, even while technically disabled, before the Great Migraine incapacitated me. It's what's going to allow me to work now, even though I'm still technically disabled (I can't meet a 9-5/M-F schedule, there's no training or work aids that would allow me to do so, either). But I know that from the outside, this all looks like I'm just able to come and go as I please, and work easy. No one can see that I'm coming and going as my disease dictates, and that I have a second full-time job managing this beast.

As a result, I must be very careful never to take advantage of this situation for personal want. Their generosity and trust, beyond what they pay me for my work, is making this all possible. It's not right to abuse that. So I do my best to act in a state of gratitude at work. I remind myself several times a day: "We're all so lucky to be here..." This helps me stay upbeat (but not overly chipper) even on tough assignments. It allows me the emotional fortitude I need to look at a problem and go, "We'll figure it out, don't worry," rather than any number of negative responses. And I hope that makes up the difference that I can't keep a good schedule.

But of course, I still worry that they're not going to be happy about my irregular hours. What I should probably do is relax, because nervousness is not going to help the situation. Here's the self-talk I'm going to try to practice to see if I can't settle into the grove of things...

They like you. They told you as much. You're doing good work. It was a two month contract, and they're keeping you on indefinitely. It's more than you wanted. Don't let that frighten you. It means you can relax, that what you've been doing so far, they wholeheartedly approve. Breathe. You've done great, kid! You know what they expect, and you know you can deliver. Don't worry about when---they don't! Just do it well like you have been. Go get 'em, tiger!

Ah, yes... that feels better. What self-talk do you use?

I just watched "The Secret"

Do not believe anyone who tried to sell you on the idea that your thoughts create your reality. There is reality, and then there's our perception of reality, and the two are never the same.* Our thoughts can change how we see reality, but it doesn't change reality. The so-called "Law of Attraction" is a myth. Wanna know how we're not shaping reality? Stand on the shore and try to hold back the tide.

Moreover, you can always decide to turn your attitude around. Again, that can change our perception of reality, where we're more apt to notice good things, and shrug off or ignore the bad. But that doesn't keep the bad from happening! People still get sick (which is the majority of people, not the minority), accidents still happen (just ask the E.R.), and we still get things wrong. Wanting it really bad doesn't make it a reality. Just ask anyone who's won the Silver.

We're not powerless. We do have some control over what we notice. We can focus our thoughts to see the big picture, and not let the little things bother us. There are ways to bolster our emotional resilience, and learn how to bounce back from things faster. But "things" still happen. There are still mean and bad people in the world, willing to do others harm. We can't buy the snake oil that says the bad things happened to me because I was thinking bad thoughts. That's BULL$H!+, plain and simple. And it's guilt you neither deserve nor need!!! Go ahead and think what you like. It's not some boogeyman that's going to come up and bite you. You may have a "sixth sense" of things and have the thought before the event happens, but that's just noticing that this time, your thoughts lined up with how events turned out. Statistically, that's going to happen from time to time. It's completely normal. (Or you may actually be spooky. YMMV.)

If I'm having a bad day, a lot of times I can turn that around. Here are the steps.

1. Take a deep breath


2. Decide to start the day over. Everything bad that happened to you is now "yesterday."


3. Imagine the feeling of having started your day, and it was wonderful.


4. Moving forward from that imaginary place of having a good day.


5. Allow the day to unfold in a more positive way, because of your new happy attitude. ("Problem? That's no problem... This is all manageable.")

It's not magic. It's psychology! It's what Twelve Step programs call an attitude of gratitude, and point you to page 417 (what used to be page 449), of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous. But the story behind that was towards the end of his life, when his health was failing and chronic pain creeped in, Dr. Paul O had difficulty maintaining his attitude, and ended up bitter again. But I can't blame him! Unmanaged chronic pain is a devil, and losing your health is something to be mourned! We folk with chronic illness just have more time to get used to it. We learn early that loss of health is the natural state of things, and we learn to make peace with it.

But "The Secret"? Malarkey. Don't believe the hype, and don't punish yourself for things you're not doing. You're not manifesting badness into your life. That's just life. Bad things happen. Good things happen. Some things, that we at first think is bad, we can then become very grateful for, once new evidence emerges. "For there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." -- Shakespeare (Hamlet) Free yourself from this idea that you make bad things happen to you. Forgive yourself. Take responsibility for your actions, and let the rest go. You didn't think this to happen to yourself. No one does.

[/rant]

* We actually cannot perceive reality as it is. For one, we don't have the proper nerve receptors in our eyes to be able to see the wavelength of light, called Ultra Violet. Bugs and birds can see that wavelength. We can't. We're all color-blind, in a sense. Our view of reality is very limited. It's enough for us to do wonderful things, but the fact remains: it's still limited. Reality, and our perception of reality, are two very different things; our perception of reality always falls short.

p.s. We do understand how electricity works. It's how we're able to build computers.

[THP] What's My Mountain?

Sometimes, it's really difficult to have direction in life. Should I take this job? Should I sign up for that project? Should I go back to school? It's difficult to know what's going to make us happy. Additionally, our brains are particularly bad at truly anticipating how something is going to affect us. We will predict that a bad event will feel much worse than it ends up being. We're equally poor at determining what will actually make us happy. And that's because only about 10% of my outside life correlates to my happiness. The other 90% is generated internally. Great! Now how do I generate it?

I believe the answer is revealed in a commencement speech given by Neil Gaiman. In it, he talks about never having a career, just having a list of everything he ever wanted to do with his life: write a novel, make a motion picture, make a comic book. He set those dreams up as his "Mountain" and then he made his decisions base on whether or not those decisions would take him closer, or farther away from, the Mountain. He got his first job as a journalist, because that allowed him to ask questions. He could get his answers on how to get further along towards his Mountain that way.



We all have a Mountain in us. It doesn't matter if the idea is big, that's what a Mountain is supposed to be! It's got to be something we can see from far away, large enough that it can attract and hold our attention, even if other things appear on the horizon. A Mountain is something that, after days of trudging a hard path, we can still look up and see that we're heading in the right direction.

That's why it has to be your Mountain, and not anyone else's. If the goal is to build our happiness, then it can't be someone else's Mountain. That makes them happy, not us.

Find Your Mountain
Take out a sheet of paper and make a list of everything you wanted to do with your life. It doesn't matter if it's impossible, put it down anyway. Impossible doesn't matter. The Dream is what's important. We first need to identify what those dreams are, then we can worry about possible or impossible. So close your eyes if you have to and think back to when you were a child, and everything you wanted, even if it's something as fantastic as meeting Spiderman. Just put it down. Did you want to walk on the face of the moon? Be a race car driver? Create your own neighborhood? Breathe underwater? Make video games? What ever came to you in a dream that you thought would be neat? What do you get your hair on fire about? Write it all down. Those are the stones that make up your mountain.

Not Sure? Hampered by Disability?
Don't worry. If you're unsure, or if nothing quite grabs you enough, that's okay. It may be that you have correctly surmised that you don't have anything you're (yet) passionate enough about. That's okay! I stumbled upon what I was looking for. I just followed what seemed like a good idea until then. And surprisingly, all my choices along the way, even though I didn't' realize it at the time, have played their part.

If disability stops you then try to come at the issue from a different angle. Perhaps there's a way to be involved in a new way that accommodates your needs. This isn't always possible, or sometimes it hurts too much to be involved in activities we used to love in a limited capacity. That's understandable and natural. In that case as well, it's probably just a matter of time. You need to explore as much as is possible, and draw from that new things that move you.

New technologies that empower the individual are being designed all the time. Things will become available that weren't before. You'll have new experiences, think new thoughts. Each day, a new beginning.

If you know a direction, excellent. Go there. If not, look inside for who you are, look outside for what you like, and live to experience new things you haven't tried before. It will come to you. You can relax.

I don't have enough money...
Contrary to popular belief, it's not the next big thing that's going to launch you. It's like that old nursery tale about the tortoise and the hare. Slow and steady wins the race. Japanese Kaisen says “Don’t write a book, write a page…” You might not have enough money for the big plan, but you might have just enough to get a small project started that would allow you to showcase, demo, or even kick-start the next phase.

I don't have enough education...
First, find out if what you want to do requires an education. If it does, figure out if it's a formal education you need, or if certificates and exams are more the industry standard. Remember that where you graduate from doesn't always have to be where you started. Figure out where you want to be, and work your map backwards from there, until you're able to connect it to where you are now.

I don't have the spoons...
See if you can delay gratification, and just work on a slower time table. If you symptoms are managed, these things are possible, if we're able to not worry about when it gets done, jsut thatit gets done. We will have to reassure ourselves, however, that jsut because things are slow, doesn't mean they're forever stopped. It just takes a little more patience to see progress.

I don't have enough symptom/pain control...
Then don't worry about a Mountain right now. You're in Epic Battle! You've got other things to contend with. If you're able to do things with your Mountain, great! If not... no sweat! You've got other, higher priorities. Once your symptoms become managed, then you can look at really setting a course again. Notice I didn't say cured.... I said managed. Scientific studies have shown that if symptoms are managed, a chronic illness has little to no negative impact on a person's happiness. In fact, it can even be a benefit. However, if the symptoms are not managed, it can be a living hell that's taking all your concentration to deal with.

Don't worry. Your Mountain will wait for you. It will not abandon you. And you might be surprised at how far you're carried forward despite your limitations, once you get some breathing room and a chance to check over your shoulder. There's the constant feeling that you're missing out on life with an unmanaged chronic illness (sometimes even with managed ones). That's natural. That's because we long to do, when we have not been able to do. But that's like summeritis in the last few weeks of school, then a month into summer break, yelling, "I'm bored!" You know all too well what you're missing out on. So use now to make those lists of all the things you want to do, so that once things are managed, you can pounce on those dreams like a tabby on catnip! Or, if it's too much pain to think about it, just relax and know that time changes things. Opportunities arise from the strangest corners...

What are some of your suggestions, or tales of your experience, in looking for your Mountain?

Previously in this series: Building New Habits, Breaking Old Ones

[THP] 20 Minutes of Happy Memories...

As part of my phase in to This Happiness Project, This week, I'm starting the exercise of blogging for 20 minutes on a positive experience, past or present. The idea is that by activating those neural pathways, I will strengthen my ability to recall happy things, even in times of stress and sadness. I'm going to be trying this for 2 months (along with my usual MTLA posts). What's two months to try out a theory, right? The scary thing is, I'm actually really, really bad at this!

Let me just try to start by listing times that I know I've been happy, rather than pulling up specific occurrences. I've been happy: dancing, painting, figuring things out, coming up with a delicious turn of phrase, learning, spending time with my friends debating or enjoying the outdoors, learning about new people... My life has not been a lot of that until recently. I've had ten years of my life not being that. Let me shake off the cobwebs here!

I had a great night Monday night. I went out with a friend with drinks where we were able to share some deep, meaningful conversation, have some great laughs at our own expense, and marvel at the wonder of the Universe. I always love conversations like that, and I'd like to think I'm spoiled by the number I've been able to have in my life. It's conversations like that, that renew my charge forward. I got a great line too: "I don't know whether to thank you, or smack you, for being so right." What can I say? I recognize my kind...

We completely lost track of time. That's how good the conversation was. It was supposed to be drinks to beat rush hour and it turned into, "I needed to be home in bed a half hour ago!" We noticed it got dark, and then kinda forgot about it, until: Oops! Still, he's got a new book for me to read, and it's one whose principles seem to actually work... and it's an ebook no less... Pretty spectacular. I enjoyed my energy drinks, he had his Guinness, I ordered some steak and fries. We talked about the behavior of people and positive attitude training, and how hard it is! Oy, this is a lot of work. But when you see it pay off so quickly, it's like ...man! Give me more of that!

If I miss a day, I know from past experience that the best thing to do is don't think two things about it, but apply yourself next the next day. New habits are difficult, and this is about progress, not perfection. This is about happiness, not getting things right. This is about enjoying this and not beating myself up, but going, "Yup. Happens to the best of us. Keep going. It will become habit soon enough." Everything has a learning curve, even if the instructions are understood. If we do everything right, all we're doing is going through the motions. It's only in recovery that we learn how this stuff is really done.

I had to start my 20 minutes over because I became a Negative Noodlehead two days running. I was ready for a fight, a struggle. I wasn't ready to relax and remember happiness. But I've started over until I was able to think of something, even if it was just Monday, and get some positive experience down on paper. Yes, I am coming out of a dark time. There were moments of brightness in it, but the daily pain would steal the enjoyment away, much like a screaming child can make an otherwise enjoyable plane flight a living hell. (My sympathies to parents who travel!)

I had happiness before then, but that's trying to remember a time before I got sick, and all I end up doing is seeing the sickness pop up in my memory, so I'm going to try for more recent times when the illness was there, but managed. That's only been a few months, but I've been able to go camping since then and even rode a dirt bike! I can tell about that next time. My 20 minutes are past up!

[THP] Building New Habits & Breaking Old Ones

Part of a Facebook Event called The Happiness Project (not to be confused by the book of the same name... no relation)

Going into this event, it may be useful to know some of the concepts for building new habits and breaking old ones. Some of these are ideas from the book, but nothing here is content from the book, unless specifically mentioned. One Path of Least Resistance is (or what Shawn calls, "The 20-Second Rule"). Shawn uses this guideline to help build new habits, and break old ones. Take "20 seconds" (or more... the more the better) away from any task you want encourage yourself to do and add "20 seconds" to any task you want to keep yourself from doing.

Time and time again in psychological studies, it comes up that one of our very base natures is to do what is easy, or to not do at all. This is as deep as biology, because to rest is to conserve energy, even on a molecular level. What it was for our ancestors, the cavemen, was we needed to rest to conserve limited energy for when we needed to do other things, like run from that cave bear. Activity was done largely in bursts. The same is true of other animals. Do you know how much your house cat sleeps?!? 16-20 hours a day. His wild counterparts aren't much different. We are all wired to mostly do nothing.

So the next time you find yourself sitting on the couch doing nothing, instead of out exercising when you know it makes you feel good... Or why you end up sitting home on the couch playing video games, even though it's far more rewarding to go out with friends, understand this---it's not because you're lazy. It's that you're extremely good at conserving energy. Problem is, this becomes an obstacle when trying to form new, healthier habits.

However, this "Path of Least Resistance" attitude can also be used to our advantage. For example, it's far easier in our minds to "Opt-in" (i.e., "option-in," meaning, the choice was made to include you in the option) rather than change our course of action. Organ Donor registries have discovered in recent rears that the mere phrasing of a question can mean the difference between less than 10% of people signing up to more than 90% of people signing up. That is,

"Would you like to be included in the organ donor registry?"
(Check yes to be included.)

versus

"Would you like to not be included in organ donor registry?"
(Check yes to be excluded.)

It's a big decision! So the easier choice is to not check the box at all. The first example got 10% of people to become organ donors. The second received 90% participation in the organ donor program. Just because it's easier to not make the decision. Do I? Don't I? Do I really need my organs when I'm gone? Do I want them to cut em up before they bury me? AHHHH! I don't know, I don't wanna think about this, now, and I've been here long enough! Huge difference in participation rates.

We can think about this when it comes to our daily lives and make new things easier to make a habit, and things we want to quit, more difficult to deal with. Shawn tells the funny story of sleeping in his work-out clothes, because it was more of a pain to change out of them that it was to just go with the flow and put on his running shoes and exercise for the day (exercising in the morning has particular benefits to the mind -- buy the book for details).

On the flip side, if there's a habit that you want to stop, make it more difficult to engage in that habit. Say you want to want to watch less TV. One way to accomplish this would be to remove the batteries from the remote controls and put them in a drawer. Even the small act of adding that much time to watching TV (first I have to find the batteries) can be dissuasive enough, especially if you've left a book you want to finish right by the remotes. That makes the path of least resistance reading a book, rather than watching TV.

---

In moving forward with your Three Good Things, try to make this exercise as easy as possible. If you're on Facebook, this is as easy as joining The Happiness Project Facebook Event (tagged here as "This Happiness Project"), and you'll get a daily reminder to post your Three Good Things (plus Blogging/Journaling reminders on Sun/Tue/Thu). If you're not a daily user of Facebook, or you would rather participate on paper, try leaving a notebook on your pillow so that your remember to write down your Three Good Things before bed. (You can use this trick for your Blogging/Journaling task, too!)

For your Meditation task, find some music you like that lasts for 5 minutes for the breathing exercise, and one that lasts 20 minutes for the positive visualization exercise. (Ah ha! Didn't know you could music, now, didya? Yes, this is perfectly legit, though music without lyrics is probably the least distracting. IMHO. YMMV.)

Right now (in the Facebook Event) we're discussing simple ways for people to do their Five Conscious Acts of Kindness. There are all sorts of great ideas!

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Next up... What's My Mountain?

Why I don't read other blogs... (Confession)

I've been thinking about it for a few days because it's been weighing heavily on my heart. Here I am, blogging away, getting all this support from you, and I have a difficult time turning around and reading what you---my fellow bloggers---have written. Oh, sometimes I'll rediscover Google Reader and go on a blog reading binge. But most of the time I don't keep up. And it's the same reason that healthy people have a difficult time talking to us: It hurts too much to know.

I want to be there for you, to help cheer you on, to lift your spirits up... I want to hear about how you're succeeding, because I want you to be successful in your life. I have trouble hearing about the struggle, pain, and heartache. I want to recognize and deal with that. I want to help. However, I want to keep my mind focused on the positive, and that's difficult to do when I'm reading stories about the negative.

And that's what's so difficult about talking to people with chronic illnesses! If we look at the illness, that's a lot of struggle, a lot of disappointment, a lot of heart-break, a lot to despair over... And for so many people where there's only treatment, never a cure... And for so many other people for whom the illness is just a fight to have it not kill you... I really don't want to hear about how an illness is overwhelming and swallowing up your life.

See, the problem is, I've been through that. When you tell the story of your pain, I feel your pain, I remember my pain. It all comes back in a horrible flood of traumatic memories. I can't handle that on a regular basis. It's too much. I have to be in a mood that feels like every problem is solvable, and I am mighty, before I have the strength to read other blogs. Otherwise, I could find myself awash in memories that then trigger me and leave me shuddering...

I want to hear about everything you're grateful for despite what's going on. I want to hear about how it's difficult, but that you're learning coping (or you're fighting to learn how to cope). I want to hear about how you're successful in dealing with your disease. I want to hear about the humor you've picked up along the way... I want to know about you---your hopes, your dreams, your inspirations. I want to know how your beating back the darkness.

I know about the darkness. I've traveled enough of its depths already. I don't want to know more. That's why I don't read other patient's blogs. It hurts.

Forgive me?

#NMAM Shakin' in my Boots

Todays' blogging question is: "What's your biggest Migraine related fear? How do you cope with it?" My biggest fear, easily, is that the migraines will come back with the same force and duration that disabled me in the first place. Even while on a steady diet of 60mg Oxycontin per day, I was still averaging an ER visit about once a month. Even after they implanted the Occipital Nerve Simulator, I was the only one in the study to use it past 8. The doctors were floored that I could tolerate it at max power of 20. I wished the machine had gone to 40, but that's reaching lethal levels.

When a migraine goes past 72 hours, I start to panic. That's how the last one started. It just started and would not stop. I could throw all the medication I wanted to at it, and it just went on, and on, and on. It varied in intensity. Some days were absolutely miserable, and those were the good days! Bad days were an epic hell that took every ounce of stubbornness and tenacity just to get through. If I can't get my migraine under control in less than 72 hours, I'm in real danger of falling into another epic cycle again.

See, my 4.5 year migraine wasn't the first to last a long time. By my blogging estimates, I believe I had a migraine the previous year that lasted 5 weeks. Around the same time of year too. I worked through the pain. I was a one woman drain on Cafergot. I had run out the supply in Washington state. I had run out the supply in Oregon. I had run out the supply in Idaho and, according to my pharmacy, I was starting to clean out northern California, when my doctor finally switched me to a different medication.

I didn't think any of that was abnormal at the time. Now I know different. Now I can see the signs of the tiger hiding out in the darkness, waiting to strike. And when the signs become numerous, and continuous, I start to freak like a tiger is chasing me.

How do I cope with it? Responsible denial. I deny that which I can't fix, and just try and slog through it, unless the symptoms become urgent or chronic enough to warrant care. When that happens, I'll shut down internally and go into pure intellectual mode. I'm in shock, and I'm trying to cope anyway. The feelings are to big for me to manage, so I shut them all off. That way maybe I have a chance to think. Unfortunately, the amount of adrenaline in my system, usually causes racing thoughts. So these are the times when I write and blog. It helps me get my thoughts together, and not just spinning out of control on a hamster wheel.

And I'm starting to develop some faith. Not traditional faith, but a kind of faith nonetheless.

But most of all, I recognize that my fears of a massive migraine phase is perfectly reasonable given my experience. My fears of it happening again are part of my Medical PTSD. So I also do therapy and take head meds.

And I try to tell myself the boogeyman isn't real and living in my head...

"National Migraine Awareness Month is initiated by the National Headache Foundation. The Blogger's Challenge is initiated by www.FightingHeadacheDisorders.com."

#HAWMC - Book quote inspired post: I am a caveman

"[Your body] is an antique biological machine that evolved in response to a world that no longer exists." (The Time Paradox) Today's prompt is use a sentence from the nearest book as inspiration to write, free-form, for twenty minutes. (I cheated a little and went over on time, and didn't quite do free-form. But that's because I love this book, The Time Paradox, and I wanted to do it justice. It explains so much about how difficult it is for out little human minds to wrap around reality. My body's design hasn't really changed in the last 150,000 years. My environment, however, has changed drastically---largely due to our own efforts! My analog, caveman brain is in a digital, machine-driven world. Let the comedy begin.

For example, did you know that it's actually impossible to live in the present moment? That's simply true because our nervous systems lag behind what's actually going on. It takes time to see, hear, feel and process all those other wonderful senses---from 10 to 250 milliseconds, in fact. My organic brain is designed to anticipate, because that's the only way we can function in the world when we're always lagging behind. However, this is where everyone gets tripped up. What I anticipate is a story I've made up in my head, to try and predict the future, based on my past experiences. It's still a story. Reality is often painfully different. And if, say, I have an extremely traumatic past experience, that can cloud my judgement of the present moment, because I can now anticipate a terrible future that I didn't know existed before.

Further, I can become so wrapped up in avoiding that potential terrible future that I end up sabotaging myself in the present moment. In my anxiety and attempts to make sure that trauma never happens again, I can in fact create the very situation I'm trying to avoid. I anticipate that someone is going to be mad at me, so I get defensive. But then the person does get mad at me, but it's because I got defensive. They get confused because they don't think they've done anything to get me so worked up. And they're right! I'm jumping to conclusions and trying to anticipate moves. But in doing so, I force the situation to take a certain shape; a shape the other person may not want at all!

If I actually want to respond to the situation as it is, and not how I anticipate it to be, what I have to do is slow down, relax, and observe. My caveman brain is trained to look out for the tiger, find food, survive the elements, and maintain my place in my community/family group. I don't have to worry about predators like my caveman ancestor did. Finding food is as easy as going upstairs to my refrigerator. We don't just survive the elements anymore: we make fashion statements with our clothing. My community/family group is scattered across the country. Is it any wonder then, that I sometimes feel isolated, and adrift in a sea of strangers? Is it any wonder that I struggled a long time for a sense of purpose? Is it any wonder that I startle myself and see danger that isn't really there? No... But the awesome thing is when I change my perspective of a situation, I can change my response to that situation. Instead of making driving a competition with me and the other cars on the road, I can instead envision that we're all being carried on one big river, with different currents, and it doesn't matter if that guy gets in front of me. We're all part of the flow.

From an objective point of view, "bad" things are always going to happen in my life. I can't always avoid them. However, so far, I've been able to survive, despite it all. So I should give myself credit for being able to handle these situations as they arise, rather than always being on the defensive. I can do that with my doctors too. It's absolutely paramount that I treat each new doctor as new, and not a repeat of times past. Instead of anticipating for the bad experiences I've had, I can treat each doctor as a brand new opportunity for success. And by doing so, I'm being more fair to them, treating each doctor as an individual, rather than judging them as a group.

My caveman brain wants to make these associations to keep me safe from encountering the traumas of my past. But I'm a stranger to them. When I act defensive, I'm not giving my doctor a fair chance to do right by me. And I want to be as open and honest as possible. One, that helps them learn what's going on in my body more accurately. Two, it's the only way to build that all-important bond of trust. We may be all civilized and technologized, but human relationships still come down to primal rules that existed long before we built cities. Integrity still boils down to saying what you mean, and meaning what you say, backed up by proper action.

Like no other creature on this planet, we have changed our environment to better serve our needs. All animals change their environment to some extent, and a lot of animals do it with a purpose, just like us (building traps for prey, building shelter, nesting, etc.). But no other species has done it with such understanding of what we are going on about. We have taken the reigns of our fate as a species, and changed how we interact with the world. We live according to a clock, rather than the setting and rising of the sun. We are able to treat disease and strengthen fragile bodies that would not survive otherwise. But underneath it all, we're still just animals. We all have animal reactions, animal irrational behavior, and animal weaknesses. I have to remember that if I'm to successfully take responsibility for my life.

Visualizing a Future You

One of the biggest problems I've had in dealing with my chronic illness and its limitations, is seeing myself as someone I can admire. There were certain preconceived notions I had of where I would be at 38, and my vision was no where near where I actually ended up. Some things I dreamed of---having children from my own body---are impossible for me. It's really easy to look at my life and see how much I've lost. But that kind of thinking gets me nowhere: it's focusing on the negative rather than the positive. If you don't like where you are now, picture a future you that you can live with, and aim for that. Then current circumstances are only temporary hurdles on the road to a greater destination. The easiest way to do that is to visualize who I am to be in the future.

When I do this visualization process, I first think of how I want to feel. This woman that I am to become... how does she feel inside? More confidant? Calmer? Happier? More content? More patient? A little more cynical? More outgoing, more reserved, or a little of both? I make sure that the qualities of this future me are qualities I can live with. If she's not happy, I throw that visualization away and find a new one. There's no use imagining a future me that's miserable. This is supposed to be an exercise about where I want to go with my life. Aiming for unhappiness is not that! And our visualization process is exactly that: Aiming ourselves towards a better, future us.

After I get the feelings down, then it's usually easy to picture what she looks like: longer hair (because I'm growing mine out), a few more lines and grey hairs (but I don't mind), quick to laugh, but mostly quieter than I am now; more watchful. I picture her in more business attire. Somehow she's figured out how to get some income going again and I've got new suits to show for it. I don't know how she's done it, but don't have to know all the details! That's part of the fun... Figuring out how to make this stuff true!

Once I can picture her, I can start listing off the reasons why she is the woman who she is. I know what she does for a living gives her a great sense of purpose. I can see that life has been difficult during the last 10 years, and I don't know what she's been through, but that the trials have made her stronger. I see her working in her new chosen field, and being recognized for her efforts. I see her smiling at the praise, but with humility because she knows the journey was that of a thousand steps. She's been able to make new connections in life and new friends with this line of work. I see her in a convention hall as part of the event organization staff, the applause leaking in from the dining hall, for whomever is speaker at the dinner that evening. When I picture it, the event is important enough to be a cloth-napkin affair, and that thought makes me smile.

I imagine her in her off-time, too. She's enjoying hobbies that I like, but didn't bother with before, because I was too busy doing more physical things that are now out of my reach. She's physically active (so that I aim away from being a couch potato), but in a more disciplined, mature way. Her exercise is Tai Chi in the quiet hours around sunrise, not dancing at the clubs to ear-splitting music until 2am. She's quieter than I ever dreamed of being, because it's never something I wanted, more it was thrust upon me by my disease. But I can picture it a sophisticated quiet, rather than quiet from boredom or humdrum. There is plenty of excitement to be had on the intellectual level that doesn't require zooming about physically as well. There are plenty of adventures of the mind that don't require extreme sports for their thrills.

When I do this visualization process, and I'm able to come up with a future me that excites me, then I really have something to live for: myself! Whenever I start to feel discouraged, I can sit and think about her, my future self, and think about what I need to do to get me there. I make sure to never visualize myself as healthier. That's dangerous---it's a set-up for disappointment should something bad happen. Instead, I make sure I visualize her as broken as I am now, if not moreso. But, to keep myself from despairing over that fact, I envision her as fully capable of handling whatever it is she has going on. That starts me thinking along the lines of problem-solving rather than just problem-despairing. I look at her life (which is not an impossible goal) and wonder, "Okay, now how did she get there?" When that happens, I start thinking about options and opportunities, rather then obstacles.

What's amazing to me is when I have a future I can look forward to living, I start automatically doing a lot of self-care activities. One big things I notice is that I'm a lot better about taking care of things that have no real pay-off now, but will have huge pay-off in the long run. My teeth are especially easier to take care of: I want my future me to have good teeth she can enjoy (I don't picture dentures for my future me), so I feel a real incentive to be responsible now. I also get a lot better with my money: I'm able to say to myself, "No, we can't make that impulse buy, even though we want to. We've got plans, and those come first." It's easier to make small sacrifices now, even though my self-pity/inner child wants the quick emotional fix of a right-now purchase (even for something as small as a box of Tic Tacs). When I know I'm working towards a goal, it becomes easier for me to defer gratification. Yes, I want the Tic Tacs now. But that satisfaction will fade quicker than the orange, sugary, candy after-taste. If we want real, lasting satisfaction, let's go for this bigger, long-term goal, instead... Self-talk like this helps me enhance my patience with my desires-of-the-moment, and choose actions that are more beneficial overall.

Try it for yourself, and see what happens! 1) Picture a future you that you like and admire, who successfully lives with your disease. What do they look like? How are they different from you now? 2) Imagine what it feels like to be that person. What does it feel like when they laugh? What do they feel like when they've see a long, lost friend? How do they feel physically when they run across something that melts their heart? 3) Visualize them moving through their life. What do you see them doing? What do they do in their off-time? Given your current limitations, what have they figured out to do to get past them or make peace with them? 4) Ask yourself, is this someone I want to become? If not, revisualize your future self until you can answer: Yes. 5) Figure out how to get from here to there.

Good luck, and happy daydreaming!!

There is no Over, only Through

For the folks who aren’t chronically ill, think of every time you’ve been injured or severely sick. Perhaps a broken bone or pneumonia landed you in the hospital once. There were doctors and medications and instructions. You did everything they asked, all the while upset that you had to deal with this (rightly so) and wondering, “When, oh, when does it get to be OVER?!” Imagine that time. Remember being stuck in it, and all the things you couldn’t do, all the help you had to ask for, how much of an inconvenience it all was, how people had to be patient with you…

Now imagine all that, but knowing that it’s never going to be “over.” It’s never going to get better. That your body will only get worse given time. Those crutches are staying. Those medications are part of your life now. The doctors and staff at the ER will know more about your life than your hairdresser. You’ll actually hear those terms enough times to know how to pronounce them. People will stop being patient and wonder why you haven’t learned to live with it yet, even though the symptoms feel as fresh as day one, every time. Vomiting always feels like vomiting. Kidney stones always feel like kidney stones. What we do get better at, in the long run, is getting angry at it.

Our disease (literally dis-ease) is something we hate about our life. It’s like being shackled to a monster. We have to drag this ugly, demanding thing around with us every where we go! It’s never not there. We can sometimes forget for a little while (#epicwinning), but it always comes back. We hate it about our lives, and we hate it about ourselves. Even though the disease may be the responsible party, we, the person, have to take responsibility for it. “I’m sorry, I tripped over my disease. I’m sorry, my disease is throwing a tantrum. I’m sorry, my disease is a jerk and won’t let me come out to play…” Pretty soon, I feel like the jerk having to explain all the time…

But it’s really, really dangerous to look at my disease this way. Pretty soon, I’m hating me. And that’s the least constructive place I can be.

My neighbor is involved in mix martial arts and she has inspired me. She's a cute little thing and you never would guess she could kick your butt. I was looking at some of her videos from a recent tournament. How those ladies compete is not a natural way to move. Watching the competition videos with her she would point out her mistakes, "now if I was paying attention there, she wouldn't have gotten me into that lock...". After the tournament, she had mean bruises and a few nasty bumps on her head. But these injuries didn't make her a victim. They made her a bad-ass.

Pain and suffering isn't always a negative thing. If it is pain and suffering we have chosen to accept (as, say, a means to an end) then we're a lot less likely to feel tragic about it. It's part of the process, right? Just the price of admission... We all understand that good things generally have a price tag stuck on 'em in some way. Whether it's enduring hundreds of class-hours for a degree, or working your way up the ranks in the military, or meticulously watching your weight to look good for your 20th high school reunion, we understand pain is a part of life. So isn't it reasonable, then, to say that the pain and suffering of my disease is no different? Pain is pain. It's the same nervous system. It's the same brain activity. So why would the bumps and bruises I get from one activity could be seen as triumphant, and the bumps and bruises of another activity seen as evidence of loss? They get you the same funny looks at first... "What the hell happened to you?!"

I have a scar through my eyebrow from a freak croquet accident (a long story for another day). The doctor who stitched me up told me to tell everyone I was on a secret German fencing team, and to graduate, everyone must leave with a scar. This one is mine. A scar on a woman's face on its own could be something to really be ashamed of, but add the cool story and it becomes mysterious and romantic...

Part of the problem is the frustration. I used to be able to walk just fine, thank you very much. I could leave my car at home, walk 5 miles, go shopping, and walk home again... just because it was a nice day. Now I have to hope that a nice day outside coincides with a nice day inside my body so that I can enjoy the day! And I have to drive. And sitting for most of the time is mandatory. Bah!! That certainly takes the fun out!

I can compare my life now to the life I knew before I got sick, and it will fall short in a lot of ways. My dreams at night tease me with visions of a body that follows my commands, instead of commands me about... I can dwell on all of that and be miserable.

Or, I can envision that I am on a quest to earn my black-belt in illness arts... That the bumps and bruises are testimony to learning process and something to be honored by rather than ashamed of. Yes, I am dealing with a storm of invisible problems that makes it difficult for other people to have sympathy for me. But I don't look sick? Thank you! I was hoping it wasn't immediately obvious. Just because other people have difficulty recognizing my problems and accomplishments, does that mean I should devalue my efforts too? Absolutely not.

I may not be able to get over this. But I can find a way through despite it. I don't have to find the light at the end of the tunnel. I can BE the light instead.

When the cards are stacked against you... Reshuffle

I have heard people say time and time again that they don't know how I do it. "That is entirely too much for a person to handle!" I've had one say. And yet to me... I can't give it any credit. When I get taken over by these dire health moments, it's luck and instinct. It has nothing to do with me. I'm just holding on! I'm not clever or wonderful in these moments. I'm just a living organism desperate to keep living. I believe every one of you would do just as well, if not better, in my shoes. You'd get the job done, and probably with less whining and kibitzing! I honestly wish I could shut up about all of this and just live life, but I've been unable to do so. Instead I've turned it into a blog so I can fake that all my complaining is respectable. Funny thing is, I accidently found a way to make it successful. (Sometimes it seems the only way I find success is to trip over it.)

I started this blog because I was miserable. In my mind, I was a wretched thing like something out of a Dickens nightmare. I was huddled in the darkness, alone and doomed. Then the other part of my mind kicked in. This part of my mind was more like the Ghost of Christmas Present, gentle and joyful. She laid a hand on that wretched child's shoulder and said, "Now see here... You know you're not the only one going through this and you know you don't have it as bad as you could. If you want to learn how to do something yourself, try teaching it to someone else, remember? Now think... if you wanted to teach someone else how to get through this, how would you do it?" And like a dawn breaking, suddenly I wasn't in the darkness. I was in a lecture hall. I wasn't dressed in rags anymore, I was in a nice wool suit. And I also wasn't a child... I was an adult, standing tall.

The lecture hall I had in mind was very specific. It was the lecture halls I had when I was a science major at Saint Louis University. There, the seats slope downwards like in a theater, to accommodate class sizes of 300 students. But more importantly in my mind, I'd be lecturing from a point where the students look down at me. Yes, I'm the one lecturing. But I must always remember to present my teachings as a gift or an offering. Because in the end, it's not my lecture that's important. It's what the students can make from it that is.

Suddenly, everything I'd suffered was of value. These weren't just things I had to go through in my life. These were now things that I could use to help make someone else's life better. It wasn't just my loss. It was someone else's gain. And then too, my inability to shut up about it suddenly became a boon. It was no longer embarrassing that I was an unabashed exhibitionist, ready to share the details of my personal life with strangers. Now, I'm an activist, inspiring others to share their experience, strength and hope as well!

How the heck did that happen?

One thing I will give myself credit for is that I refuse to surrender. Sometimes, that's a terrible trait to have, especially when someone wants to be left alone! But like the title of this entry (given to me by my lovely cousin, Jeremy Diakonov-Curtis), I've decided to reshuffle the deck. The things that give me trouble I will use to make some good. The things I am terrible at, I will admit, so that others can know they're not alone. Like any human being, I have my weak moments. And like most people, I underestimate my own abilities and don't give myself enough credit.

It's difficult to be kind to myself in a world where I have trouble fitting in and keeping up. My random yelps of pain and discomfort are disturbing to people. That's not an unnatural response. And I feel guilty when I cause that discomfort in others. It would be as if I had picked my nose at the table. Not good! If you invite someone somewhere twenty times and it's "no" every time, pretty soon, you just stop inviting. It doesn't matter that the 21^st time would have been "yes." So I push myself to go out sometimes, when I know I shouldn't, because I want to keep getting invitations. It's these little, simple things that I fail at, that weigh so heavily on my soul.

Because from the outside, I know you can't tell the difference. I look fine. Stunning, even, sometimes. I don't look like there's all this going on in my life. There's no way to tell that I'm not just irresponsible and lazy. With other sick people, they know immediately. There are experiences that can't be explained, but you can tell by the way they talk and act that they've actually been there. There's a knowing. You can see the dark wisdom in their eyes. It's like a "you had to be there" conversation. Do you get the... And then the... Oh! And sometimes.... And have you ever?.. It's like meeting another member of a fan club, only it's a fandom that no one wants to be a part of!

This illness has made me into someone that I don't like, and that I have trouble admiring. I wanted to take a dream opportunity of being a live-in nanny for a friend of mine and her two wonderful daughters, and I just can't. I'm lucky for the time I can spend with them. I am in no way, that level of reliable, yet---to be able to care for children. It breaks my heart. I don't get to be the woman I want to be. I only get to be the woman I can be. I'm going to have to let what I want, go. I'm going to have to figure out how to be a woman I can be proud of, anyway. And like before, it's going to take seeing my situation in a new way.

So I've got to reshuffle. I've got to change things up to make things work. I can't judge my life now based on how I used to be able to live it. That's just not fair. But, in a way, I don't know that is fair. In a way, the only one who can determine whether I'm actually living up to my potential is me. And I'm not always good at being honest with myself.

That leaves me with only one answer.

FORGIVENESS

I'm going to have to allow myself a lot of mistakes. I'm going to have to eat crow, and worms, and bite some bullets. I'm just going to have to be okay with the fact that I suck sometimes. Sometimes you're an all-powerful wizard. Sometimes you're just a guy in a funny hat. But I've done this before, when I didn't even intend to. I've been able to turn my situation around and find the good in it, even with everything it threw at me. I stopped worrying about me, and started worrying about other people. Now that I've changed my focus, I'm not alone... Now, the fight isn't just about me... Now, I have the courage to stand up and lead the charge again...

Deal the cards. Let's play...

Faith in sickness and pain

When we talk about faith, it doesn't have to be about the divine. Regardless of what faith your are, or if you have no religious faith at all, a chronic illness can really test your beliefs. I'm on the fence as to whether there is a God, or gods, or whatever. But that doesn't mean that I have a lack of faith. Faith is still fundamental to human existence. I see faith as the absolute confidence that something is true, even if it hasn't come to be yet. Faith to me doesn't even have to be spiritual. It can be faith that the electricity will work (the bill is paid). All types of faiths get challenged in sickness and pain, and there are several ways to respond. I choose to respond in the way that best benefits the situation.

I have faith in humanity, and faith that people are basically good. Do I know that stranger is good? No... But I believe they are until they give me proof otherwise. If that stranger proves to be shifty, I have all sorts of countermeasures I can use to protect myself. However, when it comes to my faith in my friends, I get evidence that could be seen as "otherwise." Getting sick isolates me from other people and makes it difficult for people to want to visit me. We have a strange aversion to illness and injury as a species. I've seen it happen to myself, to friends of mine, and in other cultures. Sickness and injury, at a primal, subconscious level, are a sign of weakness and something to be avoided. Going really, really primal, it means that you're likely to be picked off by the wolves. Other people will stay away because of that, and not realize they're doing it for that reason. That can really test my faith that people are basically good. We would all like to think that if we got sick or ill, people would rally around us, tend to us, makes us better and bring us back into the fold. But generally, that's not how it happens. I know there is the urge in me, if I can get better/when I do get better, to just leave this all behind and never talk about it again. Go back to "normal" and leave this in the past. I doubt I'll do that (I know too much to forsake those I'd leave behind), but the urge is there. So in this case, my faith is convenient and sometimes contrary to evidence. I will lose faith in that stranger the moment they make a untoward movement. I will keep faith in my friends even with evidence to the contrary, because I prefer keeping my friends.

My faith can be faith that my body will be in similar condition tomorrow as it is today. It can be faith that the floor will be there when I put my foot down. It can be faith that what I'm feeling is real. All of this gets thrown on its head in sickness and injury. Where I think the floor is may not actually be where the floor is. What I'm feeling, whether physically or emotionally, may be a complete fabrication of my nervous system and have nothing to do with reality. And when I wake up in the morning, it may be in a condition that takes me completely by surprise. It's very difficult to wake up and immediately be able to tend to some dire bodily need. And by dire, I mean things like vomiting, severe pain, and what I affectionately call the "splodie butt." But I have faith that my body will work anyway, because it's useless to stay up worrying---which will make me sick---over the possibility that I might be sick. I have no faith in my feelings. I always doubt them and test them against reality. I have neuropathy and PTSD. I know my feelings and sensations are often wrong. I have faith that the floor will be there. I'm not always right, but I'm good at managing the fallout when I'm wrong, so I don't mind keeping that faith.

I have faith that time will eventually change things for the better. Does that mean I'll survive long enough to see that goodness? No... But I believe it could be right around the corner. That's good enough. However, when things start changing from bad to worse, this really comes under fire. At some point, everyone starts to wonder, "Just how long can this go on? What did I do to deserve this?" Limits are strained, broken, or downright obliterated. That can easily be seen as evidence that things are not going to get better soon enough. But I've got to hold on to that faith anyway because the alternative is worthless. I want to be someone who fights until I'm absolutely overwhelmed. I've been at that point where I was so sick I didn't know what was going on, and a team of doctors was fighting to keep me alive. I have sworn to myself that no one is going to be able to say I gave up easy. If my death is anything, I want it to be respectable. And I have faith that I can keep that promise to myself. Is that true? Who knows!? And it doesn't matter. The faith is what's important.

Do I have faith in a benevolent spirit that has some concept of sin and holiness? I don't know that that's true. I do, however, have faith in mystery. Some things work out and we have no idea why. Some things don't work or work only sometimes and we don't know why. There are some things that only work when we're not looking at them and we don't know why. I have faith that there are bigger and stranger things out there than my little mind can comprehend. Could that include a benevolent spirit that has some concept of sin and holiness that is watching over me? Sure! But does it matter? If it matters to you that you go to Church/Synagogue/Mosque, then it matters to you and that's good enough. Me, some days the ritual of prayers helps. Other days, I think if there is such a Higher Power, we're going to go a few rounds before this is all over (so it's more comforting at such times to think such a being is impossible). Some days I think this is all there is. Some days, it's downright spooky. Here, my faith is complicated, complex, and I'm not even sure I understand it myself!

So faith can take many forms, it can wax and wane, and it can be clear as mud sometimes. It's still a human activity that we all engage in. It can be mundane or divine, metaphysical or physical, and everything in between. Injury and illness, pain and sickness, will test faith in a number of ways. We struggle to hold on. Sometimes, we find we have to let go. But I try to do so in ways that enhance the situation rather than make it worse. Sure, that means biting the bullet or dealing with upsets, but that's life, right? We pick ourselves up, have faith in a number of ways, and keep going. How's your faith today?

Why dwell on failure?

"I've set my teeth," is an old family saying meaning: to decide with amazing stubbornness. I may get knocked down. I may wail and despair for a moment or two. Then I set my teeth, figure out what's next, and get on with it. I refuse to spend my life feeling sorry for myself. It gets me nowhere. Yeah, it's bad. But I've gotten over that. It's old news. It was terrifying at first. Nowadays, the story is boring. I've told it a million times. Yes, I have a rare and complicated condition that makes living very tricky. But, I'm living aren't I? I can still contribute to the world in a meaningful way. I may accomplish that in a completely unorthodox way, but there is honor in being a trailblazer. This is certainly not what I thought I'd grow up to be. But what it has turned out to be, I'm making the best of.

We're taught in school that getting the right answer is the all important thing. The kid that fails is the dummy, the slacker, the good-for-nothing. There's a right way and a wrong way and the wrong way is to avoided at all costs. But that's not how the real world works. In the real world, often there isn't a right answer. In the real world, sometimes failure is the best thing that can happen. In real world stories, they all run essentially the same way: "I thought this one thing was going to happen, then something completely different happened, and it all turned out like this."

I thought I was going to have my career, get married, have kids, deal with the problems of parent teacher associations, deal with other soccer moms, get divorced, and figure out how to be an awesome single-parent household. Maybe getting remarried later down the line when the kids are older. That seemed probable to me. Getting disabled at such a young age as to be considered "Retired" by the Social Security Administration (and having the body of a retired person to match)... No... I never did think of that being in the cards. Who would?? I had dealt with a 3 year knee injury as a teen. I was no stranger to chronic health issues. But I figured every problem had a solution, right? No... there are still plenty of mysteries out there. We know oh, so very little.

These days, I've learned to linger on the failures just long enough to figure out what went wrong. I take responsibility for my part, but I don't beat myself up about it. Failure is usually memorable enough without additional self-abuse. I figure out the past, and move on. Sometimes I need a rest, so I can find a new approach for the future, and then go again. If I'm set on my goal, I try to exhaust all available avenues, and make new ones if I have to. Time will also present opportunities that didn't exist before. And I don't have to have faith that it will all work out, because that's not the point. The point is doing the best with what we've got.

As children, we have dreams. Then, as we learn, we see how our dreams were unrealistic, born of ignorance, and need some fine-tuning if we actually want to make them come true. This happens time and time again. We think one thing, then we test it against reality. The outcome may be a total surprise, or it may be what we expected. Most of the time, it's a mix of both. We take this new information, we think new thoughts, and then we test those against reality... and so on. The right answer isn't what's important. Knowing what to do when we get things wrong is.

However, we don't teach what to do when things go wrong in our schools. We say: study, memorize. If you're wrong, you're a failure and need to be held back until you can get it right. But in the real world, sometimes that's impossible. I mean, yes, you can study your little heart out and memorize all sorts of things. But sometimes, we're in an area where there's little study and we don't know what's right from what's wrong. Sometimes, we're in a situation where there is no right answer. And sometimes, the answer doesn't matter so long as it works.

I set down certain principles for myself: I must do my undertaking legally and honorably, because I like being able to sleep at night at look at myself in the eye in the mirror. After that? It doesn't really matter. It may take a long time. It may take multiple efforts. It may take an unorthodox route. (Can you imagine having your holistic doctor calling the ambulance to take you to the western hospital? That was my first clue...) But this isn't for a film crew. I'm not on a reality TV show. I'm just a gal living my life. That's messy sometimes. This isn't about perfect, so it's not about failure either. No one is handing out a report card at the end of my life.

What matters is, after my principles are met, am I okay with how I'm handling my life? Do I really need to be doing what I'm doing? Do I need to be doing it in the way I'm doing it? How does it matter to me? I'm the one who has to suffer the consequences, so these decisions are my responsibility. And yeah, I'm willing to bite the bullet that sometimes, I'm going to screw up, things are going to go wrong, or the unexpected will happen. That's life! There is no deserving or not deserving in there. It's only in story books that wizards appear to tell you you're the chosen one and here's your life's path. In the real world, most people make their life path by just setting off in a direction.

So if it's not about right and wrong answers, but results... And if it's also not about deserving or not deserving, but getting the job done... What is it I want of my life, that I think is attainable? Let's go for that. Is it going to be scary? Absolutely! Are there going to be hard times? Like we can't imagine. Are we going to encounter failure? For sure. But all journeys have these things. You'll have that on a job this size. Every great success has a heap of mistakes in its past. So why dwell on failure?