More Than One Right Answer

I was asked the other day how I keep my faith (in a God of my understanding) when I've had so much happen to me. A friend was trying to play the "Have you tried" game with my migraines. I gave her a few tries & then I explained, in order to be considered a candidate for the experimental ONS device, it had to be show that I had vigorously tried every available option in 2007 and have it fail. I was among a handful of people arcoss the country allowed in. And that's when she asked me, how do I still have faith?"

It reminded me of a time when I must have been four, and the whole family was playing a game of I-Spy. We would get the color, and the first letter of the name of the object, and then we had to find the thing my parents had in mind. They had said, "Red, B!" And I had come up with "Red Ball," which was a piece of a toy I had, not the whole object, but I figured it was close enough. My answer surprised my parents, and they had to admit, yes, I was just as right even though I hadn't found their answer.

There are more right answers out in the world than are available to me. When I was a part of that study, it was one of those miracles of luck where all the right people are in the right place. Oh, that doesn't exclude one really bad apple from being in the mix, and in charge... But still personal miracles can happen despite even rotten folk.

There is so much more going on out there than any of us are aware of, good work by amazing people who are changing the world and even they can't know the true future impact of what they do. Even though I still struggle with disabling conditions, there is progress going on everywhere, progress in me that I cannot see yet, progress in the world around me that I haven't met yet.

The same is true for you. As long as you can hang in there in the best spirits possible, that gives you a chance to meet those opportunities. I know that sometimes my biggest foe is my own doubt, and that I have to have faith that whether or not I get better, that life on the whole can get better, giving me more encouragement to fight the good fight. There will still be times when I'm knocked down and question, but if I'm honest I question success too, so who am I to judge?

Dealing with chronic pain is soul-stealing, of that there is no doubt. Pain robs us of quality of life and robs us the ability to participate in Life. It's the latter which is the most damaging because participating in Life is what allows our souls to grow and overcome those stolen pieces. Even if we must suffer in a tortured body we cannot escape, the beauty and awe of life can be a balm against pain. Connecting with others and being part of a group can invigorate more than any elixer.

The longer I live, the more I see how limited even my imagination is. I may think there's only one right answer for my life, and I have to have that right answer or I'm doomed. Yet the more I see and discover over time, the more I find there are several right answers out there. More than I know. More than my doctors know. More than any of us know...

And in that space of the unknown lies all possibility for you and me. You can have faith in that.

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.

The difference between #acceptance & #approval

Back when I was convinced I was an alcoholic, (15 years sober until my doctor proved to me that I could do what Alcoholics Anonymous calls "controlled drinking", i.e., I really can "take it or leave it") I studied the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous like it was my Bible. I was dedicated, and I was going to do sobriety "right" (what ever that means! Lol). My edition of the big book is the 3rd, so my copy it's page 449, newer additions will be different. But it's a story by a doctor/pharmacist (yes, he was both!) and it has a really great passage on acceptance. It goes like this:

Page 449 (3rd edition...)

And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation – some fact of my life – unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God's world by mistake. Until I could accept my alcoholism, I could no stay sober; unless I accept life completely on life's terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and my attitudes.

When I first read that, I thought: D'oh! Busted.... That is *exactly* what is wrong with me and my life. and that's what originally brought me to choose sobriety, even though at the tender age of 19, I wasn't even legal to drink! I even went so far as to go through an out-patient (because I volunteered) sobriety program called Edgewood in St. Louis! But when my health problems started, it became very clear I couldn't say no to drugs anymore.

Now, A.A. Has a number of publications, and one of them is called Living Sober and in there is a story about an alcoholic who had to have surgery and was afraid of taking pain pills (like me). A.A. gave me an easy to follow rule: if you're in pain --- take the medication. If you're not in pain --- DON'T take the medication. Easy, right? Problem is.... Pain can become it's own disease and when pain goes chronic, using short-term pain killers is actually what you *don't* want to do...

But back to acceptance. In my many travels, I actually got to meet Dr. Paul O. before he died, and at the time I was dealing with migraines and I was being treated like a drug-seeker, even though I was open about my recovery, had a sponsor, was holding meetings, the works! I told him, I just can't do it.... I can't forgive these doctors for how they've treated me! How do I accept this? I'm being tortured by chronic pain!!!

That's when he said to me: "Acceptance is NOT Approval."

See, if I'm driving down the road, and the car in front of me slams on it's breaks, I may not Approve of them doing that.... But if I don't Accept that they've slammed on the brakes and act Accordingly, I'll end up in a wreck!!!

So it really is a choice, my attitude. But that doesn't mean I have to like the choice I'm given!!! I can accept my illness, but I don't have to try and Enjoy it! Lol

That's just nuts!

It's Official*! I Am No Longer Disabled!!!

Well, folks... I've done the impossible: I have left the the disability rolls! According to Social Security, "less than one-half of one percent of Social Security Disability Insurance (SSDI & SSI) beneficiaries" become 'non-disabled' —42 USC 1320b-19, Section 2(a)(8). Who da man? I'm da man! But this fact hides a difficult truth: my life is still far from normal.

I am amazingly happy, and I am amazingly grateful, but if I said I didn't mind that I'm still sick, that would be a lie. I do mind sometimes. It's difficult to live in the between. I'm caught between a world where healthy people are expected to be able to fulfill certain obligations. But I'm still not healthy, so I often fall short. Sometimes I feel like I've pulled off exactly what I set out to do, I have made this look awesome... but now people expect me to be awesome as well, and that... I'm not so good at. Heck, I struggle to do "normal people things," like stay on top of the laundry, keep up with my bills, etc. I can do work, and a little bit on the weekends, and that's it. I've learned the hard way that I have to include socializing in there to fulfill my psychological needs, otherwise, I end up feeling like I have no friends, crying on the couch with a blanket and a half-gallon of ice cream!

So I have to keep everything in a fine balance, and I have to obey strict, self-imposed rules, otherwise this whole delicate machinery of my life comes crashing down. I've set things up like a Rube Goldberg machine* in order to achieve what I have. The time I put into the doctors allows me access to the medication I need to control my pain, which allows me to work, which allows me to afford the medication. The medication side-effects require that I get 10-12 hours of sleep a night. Work requires that I be there at a certain time. Which means I have a set bedtime in order to get to work on time. That means I also can't blow my sleep schedule on the weekends, otherwise it's too difficult to get back on track for Monday. That limits what I'm allowed to do, and who I'm able to see, on top of the limitations placed on me by my disease.

My disease means that I don't wake up like normal people. Most people have cortisol kick in around 4am to help them start the waking process. My body doesn't do that because my cortisol comes from a pill. The way I wake up is with adrenalin, because my body has realized that I'm not producing cortisol, which means I better wake up, or I could die! So my fight or flight mechanism is what wakes me in the morning. In a friend of mine who has adrenal insufficiency, she wakes in fight mode. She's even woken up kicking and punching. Me, I wake up in a terrified panic. I can't even use an alarm clock, because that freaks me out so bad I would need a pill to calm down. So I wake up to the gentle sounds of talk radio instead, and skip the chill pill. And my disease also means that I must take my pills at a set time in the morning, so that I'm able to function properly for the rest of the day. It's all very complicated and intertwined.


Rube Goldberg Machine
I was still so proud to make that phone call to Social Security. I was also terrified, because this has been my life for the past decade, and I've gotten accustom to many things, but also very proud. I still shake my head sometimes in disbelief. I've done it. It is possible. I've put my life back together again. I'm walking among the working, and I'm one of them. I pay taxes, instead of being on the government doll. I'm a contributing member of society again! I have made my crippling disease manageable. Wow!

So my message to you is, keep trying. If you have to stop and stand back and re-evaluate some things, that's okay. I've taken a year off from my medical struggles to rest and recuperate. Sometimes that's what we need to then charge back in there with all our might. But keep trying: the impossible is possible. It make take years and a strange, wandering route, but you can get there. I did. I'm living proof (pun intended).

Less than one-half of one percent (<0.5%)... but I did it!
Shiny!!!!

[*Update: Nope, didn't make it.]

Everything happens

I have heard the phrase: "Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God's world by mistake." I've long since lost the urge to punch people in the face for things like that. Usually I smile and nod, knowing that they don't know what they're talking about. Additionally, I know the guy who wrote that suffered horribly at the end of his life and felt very much like a mistake had been made... many mistakes, great and small. But I've figured something out in the past couple of days. It's not that everything happens for a reason. It's just that everything happens. Period.

Reason and meaning is what we bring to life. Gravity doesn't exist so my feet can touch the ground. Gravity was there, and I developed in it's effects. When things happen in our life beyond our control, we didn't put those things in to play. They're beyond our control! By their very definition we couldn't have brought those things into play. These larger effects that we live in, like chronic illness, have nothing to do with any reason. It just is. Any reason and meaning is what I bring to it.

Early on in my disease, I figured out that the pain wasn't punishment. Because I could do everything right, and my head would hurt. I could do all the "wrong" things, and my head would hurt. Intensity, manner of onset, aura, sensory sensitivities... all that was completely random. It was a migraine that just didn't quit. So I knew, after about 6 months, that it wasn't anything I was doing wrong. It just was. And if it just was, then it couldn't be my fault, and I didn't have to feel bad about it.

Yeah, this is not the life I wanted, worked for, dreamed of, etc. etc. But it's some person's dream. There's someone out there, who's got it worse than me, who is wishing they could be me. I've been looking at this whole thing all wrong. Yes, things have been taken from me: reasonable expectations have been taken from me. I had the reasonable expectation of being a mom. Nope. I had the reasonable expectation that I could live a narcotic-free lifestyle. Nope. I had the reasonable expectation I could live where ever I could afford to live. Nope. And I could go on...

The point is, the bar has be raised. I can live nothing short of an extraordinary life. It's impossible at this point. Hell, the fact that I'm alive is a miracle several times over. Most people I know would have to get into to some pretty extreme activities to be able to risk their lives every day. Me? I just have to wake up in the morning. I give death the bird each day that I take my pills like I'm supposed to (barring any sudden accidents, of course).

And somewhere, I heard a voice say, "Good, lord, woman, do you know how stubborn you are? The only way that we could get you to give up on these dreams was if we ripped them from you completely. Otherwise you would have found a way around it! So we had to resort to drastic measures, or otherwise you wouldn't be available for what's coming next..."

"So, if you're frightened of dying and... you're holding on, you'll see devils tearing your life away. But if you've made your peace, then the devils are really angels, freeing you from the earth." -Jacob's Ladder

If I want this life to have the fulfillment that I knew I could get from my reasonable expectations, then it's gonna have to be big, because those were big dreams of mine. It's going to take a lot to fill that void. I don't know what I'm going to be yet, because I'm just learning what this new life is capable of, within my limitations. And that's going to take a lot of time.

To put it another way, right now, I'm only 10 years old. My new body and my new life is only 10 years in the making. I had no idea what I wanted to be when I was ten! I knew what some of my desires were, some of the things I like and don't like. But I hadn't experimented enough, or explored my desires enough to even know what I wanted to do with my life. That took damn near twenty years to figure out!

I remember when it came close to time to graduating from college, I freaked out because I had no idea what to do after that. I had no idea where to go with my life. I even went to a professional counselor, because my panic over my future was starting with my ability to accomplish it in the present. It took years for me to figure out the dreams that have now been taken from me. And I had no limitations at the time!

This time, I'm trying to come up with the same big dreams, only now on "expert level." The only way I'm going to be able to accomplish that is by looking at what was taken from me, and changing my perception of it, so that the loss is in fact an opportunity.

I can't be a mother and know the joys of making a life and raising it in this world. But what opportunities do I gain because I don't have children? My "adopted nieces" are wonderful. But just like my illness, having those girls places limitations on my friend's life. She make take them in stride because it's all worth it...

So what if I looked at the limitations of my sickness and decided "it's all worth it"? What if I did that ahead of time, even though I don't know what that worth is yet? It's easy to see the worth in a child's life and to write off the personal costs and limitations. You know when you have children that the goal is to raise them so that they can then go on to live their own lives. That's even biologically driven. The outcome, hopefully, is your loving adult children. The outcome of my illness that makes all this suffering worth it... that outcome is a mystery.

Right now, I don't know what I want to even start to explore that mystery. But that's okay. This "second-hand life" is only 10. I didn't really start knowing what I wanted until I was around 15, and even that took a lot of experimenting and slogging through experiences I didn't like. I need to go out and find new things, explore, find new loves, new excitements, new spice to my life. I need to give it time.

Everything happens. If I want to bring reason to that, I've got to find a way to make it all worthwhile. My original dream would have made the stings and arrows all worthwhile. But that's the easy answer. What's harder to know is how to make it all worthwhile without that. I have to try...

The easiest way for me to forgive all that's happened to me, the way that I let go of the bitterness of not having the reasonable life I wanted, is by assuming I have been "called" to a more difficult life, but one that will ultimately be filled with glory that surpasses anything I could have hoped for. I have to assume that I don't get reasonable because, beyond my understanding, my talents would have been wasted if I had gone that route. And the voice was right... if there had been even the slimmest chance of me getting the life I wanted, it would have been mine.

So maybe a little faith in the Universe is a good idea... We'll see, right?

"What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others." ~Pericles

If you seek a teacher, one will appear

I have recently made the discovery of a true gem in Denver, and that is, a minister I can believe in. He's highly intelligent, has been deeply wounded in the past and has recovered from it. He has amazing spiritual strength paired with a wisdom and humility rarely seen. I am in awe.

He answered my question: "How to you deal with being cast out of paradise?" His answer was: "How can you bring paradise to other places except by leaving it?" I was dumbfounded. And I'm rarely caught speechless.

So I put to him my question of how to get out of bitterness. His answer was, "How do we know our good is supposed to reach this generation? How many people were never recognized until centuries after their death? Do you think Harriet Tubman would believe there are statues of her all over the place? Not on your life. The point isn't what happens now. The point is what happens in a scope we may never have the ability to comprehend, it's so grand. But why should that stop you from trying? How else is it going to get out there if you don't put it there?

I challenged back that, sure, I kept trying. But I didn't do it with hope in my heart or any sort of grace. It was raw stubbornness that kept me going and now that I've reached success it's come too late. It's like the scene from The Last Unicorn:

MOLLY GRUE: (gasps) No. Can it truly be? Where have you been? Where have you been? (yells) Damn you, where have you been!?

UNICORN: I am here now.

MOLLY GRUE: (laughs bitterly) Oh? And where were you twenty years ago, ten years ago? Where were you when I was new? When I was one of those innocent, young maidens you always come to? How dare you, how dare you come to me now, when I am this? (She begins crying. The unicorn puts her head in Molly's lap, and she caresses it.)

SCHMENDRICK: Can you really see her? Do you really know what she is?

MOLLY GRUE: If you had been waiting to see a unicorn as long as I have...

SCHMENDRICK: She's the last unicorn in the world.

MOLLY GRUE: It would be the last unicorn in the world that came to Molly Grue. (She sniffs.) It's all right. I forgive you.

Why did success come now, when it's too late to fulfill any dreams I had? And he said, "Where are my limitless resources to fulfill the dreams I have? It's not about fulfilling our dreams the way we want to, it's trying to figure out how to fulfill them in a world that's based on limited supply---what good can we still accomplish anyway?"

And I knew he was right. I was robbed. There's no doubting that. I was sorely treated and greviously wounded in a way that will haunt me the rest of my life. But my capacity to love and to show love has in no way been diminished. My ability to teach and to help others and spread goodness in the world has not been diminished. And I may never know the true extent of my impact on the world, but no one really gets to know that.

"So given the choice of living in regret of the death of your dreams, and making the best of what's left to the greatest possible good, wouldn't you want to try for the latter?"

Yes... Yes I do.

Alright 2013... My loins are girded; my head's held high. Bring it!

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!

What Do I Stand For?

I was sitting with my (former) roommate Mike last night, having drinks, and lamenting my current existential crisis. I knew that I had to figure out my direction in life, what it's all for, before I dove back into work again... because once work hits, I won't have time or energy to even ask these questions to myself. It will be work and managing my health to work, and what's this all for again?! I needed to figure out now, during this break in my contract, what I stand for and what I want out of life. I needed some guiding star, otherwise, what's the point? So Mike told me the story of two women stuck by tragedy...

Both had lost their children to violence: one to a gang shooting, and the other to a hate crime. Both women were obviously devastated by their loss. Neither he nor I could imagine the pain that either of these women suffered. And one woman, justifiably so, was left broken and shattered by the experience. She hasn't recovered yet, and no one blames her, because of her experience. But the other woman used her grief to fuel a not profit organization that turned into the NOH8 (No Hate) campaign. She took her pain and turned it into something amazing for others.

It's not difficult for me to answer the question in that song: "What do I stand for?" That's easy. I stand for the rights of the disenfranchised---those struck by chronic invisible illness, who are disabled by their disease, who can't advocate for themselves because they are too busy trying to manage their own illness, and the havoc it brings. I want to shine a light in the darkness to say, "Hang in there... You don't have to walk this alone. I know what you're going through, I've been there myself. Whatever you're going through---no matter how helpless and hopeless you feel---you still have value to me. You're amazing for what you're trying to survive. Give yourself props!"

What I don't know how to do is work towards that goal and work at the same time. I know what I need to do to get my message out there, but that takes a lot of work... work that doesn't pay. So I need to find a way that I can work for what I stand for, and still keep a roof over my head and medication in my system. THAT is what is totally daunting to me. Trying to figure out how to survive in the meantime... oh, that's big.

But I do have something to stand for, and it's about time I got back to it. I'm not like other people, walking around, wondering what their life is about. I know very much what my life is about. I know very much my purpose. Most people aren't that lucky. I found out that my best friend from college died day before yesterday, and it shook me. He was only a few years older than me. We never know how much time we have on this planet. Time for me to stand up.

Reflections on My Trial Work Period

There are three main things I learned with my trial work period: 1) I cannot work 9-5. I cannot be that strict. My body is to fragile and demanding (especially at inconvenient times). 2) The computer industry mostly doesn't care if you can't work 9-5, as long as you can get your work done. My job isn't shift-work. It's project-based work. 9-5 isn't even a realistic business model for my job. 3) I've still got what it takes to do a great job. The love my work. They want me to come back. They're trying to figure out how to bring me back even now, just a few days a week. But I'm torn.

My main concern is that I'm still very fragile. If I work, the rest of the time has to be spent managing symptoms and spoons. Yes, I can do it, but that's all that I'm able to do. I'm 100% work oriented, and that will make you go nuts really, really fast. We have to be able to "take off the uniform" and "leave work at work." But I don't have time for that. I have to sleep enough to have the energy I need to work. That means everything, including taking care of the house, doesn't happen until the weekends. There's not much time left over for rest and relaxation. I'm lucky that my brother is living here and taking care of most of the chores. I'm sure this place would be a wreck otherwise. I'm not sure I can survive full-time work yet.

I could try to work part-time, but then comes the issue of money. Can I afford my medical care, rent, food, medication, and all that, if I'm only working part time? What are my monthly expenditures, and can I afford only part-time work? The last time I did the math, it didn't add up well. Either I work full time and I'm just barely able to make ends meet (not accounting for debt), or I stay on welfare. There's no in-between. I'd lose my benefits and not make enough money to cover the short-fall.

Then there's everyone here, and everyone that I've helped through the years. If I do go back to work, it would mean I wouldn't have time for you or this. And I love doing this. I love shining a light in the darkness and letting people know: "Hey---you're not alone. Hang in there. Make this look awesome!" I don't want to abandon everyone, and I would have to, if I went back to full-time work.

I have much to think about... your thoughts are welcomed.

I'm Working Again!!

Bust out the fanfare and call a parade, I'm working again!! Now, it's not an absolute sure thing. I could collapse under the stress and discover that it's not possible... but right now... oh, things look good! I'm able to control my pain through my medication. No one at work is any the wiser that I have this much going on with me... I got my first paycheck this week. A PAYCHECK!!! It was only a few months ago I was dreaming of having my symptoms managed enough so that I could work, and now... holy cow!!

I didn't think this was possible. I didn't think they had the drugs out there that could take care of my pain and not demolish my mind. They do! I didn't think there was a way to control my nausea without putting me to sleep. There is! I didn't think we could get my migraines to a point where I could work through them. We have! I didn't think there was medication for the neuropathy so that I could be reliable enough to write all day. So far, so good...

I'm pacing myself. I'm taking things slowly and not rushing. I'm being cautious with my body and getting plenty of sleep. Right now all I can do is work and sleep during the weekdays. But that's okay. I get SO much of my life back. I don't have anyone else I need to be awake for during the week, so what does it matter? And as my tolerance for activity builds, who knows??

We still have to battle my autoimmune disease. I need to save up so that I can make it through 4 months of treatment. But holy cow, now I have a way to do that!! I've got 9 months... nine months of training wheels, where I still get my SSDI in case this all suddenly falls apart on me again. I think I'm able to keep my Medicare longer, but who knows with this whole Obamacare...

And I realized today that for the past year, I've been able to shower standing up, and only when I was with migraine or the stomach flu did I resort to sitting in the tub! That's HUGE!! That was things started getting scary for me when I originally got sick---I would get too dizzy in the shower and would risk passing out if I tried to stand. It's been over a decade, and I'm now able to shower like a normal person again!!!

*LOL* Oh, but there is a mountain of debt awaiting me. I'm pretty sure it's about the same price as a house (the whole house, not just the down payment). That is daunting. But thankfully, I have a lawyer in the family who might be able to help me restructure my debt. Oooof... that's a huge problem of success: cleaning up the wreckage of my past!

But now I get to clean up the wreckage of my past! Now I can start to be a responsible citizen again! I need to pace myself in this area too, because trying to do too much too fast can leave me broke. I need to be responsible with my finances, of course. However, now I'm not making a wreck anymore. (So far... training wheels, and we'll see...) I'm a really real adult again! I don't need help. I can accept it if its offered, but I don't need it anymore. I can take care of myself!

At the beginning of this disability I was in so much pain I didn't know how I was going to survive, let alone get back to where I was. There were several times where I almost didn't! That was scary... I was lost, deep in the wilderness of chronic illness. Am I out of the woods? Maybe... signs are pointing to yes...

HURRAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you everyone for your prayers and support during this time. I'm still nervous about my ability to do this, but I know how proud everyone is of me, and for that... bless you. I've felt so worthless and miserable for so long. It's tears of joy now when I choke up. You believe in me, and that means so much. THANK YOU!!

Myth Mugshot Contest -- Medical PTSD

The only real way to combat myths, misconceptions, & stigma is by raising awareness and sharing what is real: facts, stats, info, and narratives. This is exactly where Health Activists excel and align. No matter what your condition or health focus may be - you are dedicated to filling in the information gaps where stigma. That's why we've created the Myth Mugshot Contest.

So often, patients and caregivers are labeled (or at least feel labeled) by their health. Symptoms, diagnosis, treatment, and other things that go along with having (and fighting for) a health cause can open us up to judgment from others. But, at the end of the day, no one can label you - only you know yourself and what you're going through. Only you know which myths are myths and which misconceptions are outdated, off, or just plain wrong. But instead of dwelling on these labels we so often hear - we're doing something about it.

Let's play off of that idea by sharing what is real, true, and correct - and labeling ourselves with that instead.

This week we'll be sharing Myth Mugshots - where members of the WEGO Health team share one thing we think is true, important, and will affirm Health Activists and patients. Then, next week, we hope you'll do the same. Share a picture of yourself holding up a piece of paper that tells your truth. Think of a common myth, misconception, or discouraging thought and reclaim it by writing down something true or a fact about you, your health condition, health community, healthcare, or patients in general.

Now - share your photo! Add it to our Facebook wall and have your friends/followers "Like" it. The photo will the most "Likes" will get a feature on our blog, a highlight on our FB page, a feature in our June Newsletter, and a WEGO Health T-shirt (here's what they look like).

Looking forward to your Mugshots and seeing your mugs as well as your truths. Feel free to invite your community members to make one as well. We'll post our team Mugshots this week so you get the idea - and then you can start posting your pics next Monday, May 21st and having your friends "like" it. We'll pick the winner on May 28th.

I've written about Medical PTSD before. It's something that is very common among people with chronic illnesses. Too often, we are doubted, and our very ability to judge reality is called into question. We know from psychological studies done on other at-risk groups, that disbelief of our situation, of our struggle, caused depression, shame, and low self-worth. We become unable to view ourselves as in control of our lives:

"Our results show that perceptions of unfair treatment, like other chronic stressors, are psychologically burdensome... Many... suffer emotionally because they are unable to view themselves as efficacious and competent actors when treated with suspicion and confronted with dehumanizing interactions." Keith VM et al (2009). DOI 10.1007/s11199-009-9706-5

The easiest thing for a doctor to do is not treat. The shortest sentence in the English language is: "No."

When I'm not believed by a doctor, it's almost an instant panic attack. See, I sat alone, for years, in excruciating chronic pain. No one had to treat me. No one did treat me. And when my pain finally was treated, with an electronic device, I was the only one in the study to use it at maximum strength. My migraines could still shoot past what the device could do. I floored doctors with my ability to act as if nothing was going on, as they turned the juice up to 20 milliamps of current, direct to my Occipital nerves. They could make me go back there again, simply by saying, "No."

Doctors are the gatekeepers to treatments, advanced medications, and nearly all methods of symptom management. They mean the difference between living life, and enduring torture. Plain and simple. Is there any wonder, then, that chronic illness patients are walking around, traumatized?

One of the therapy methods for treating PTSD, is re-establishing the patient with a sense of safety in their own body. Chronic illness patients don't get that safety. It's our own bodies we need to be saved from! To quote a pretty hard-core rap song, by Rage Against the Machine, "There'll be no shelter here --- the front line is everywhere."

And other things have happened. Things I still have trouble writing about. I was hurt. I told him to stop, and he didn't. No one else in the room stopped him, either. My screams were heard three floors down, in the pharmacy. They almost needed pliers to remove the needle from my skull, he dug into the bone so deep. No, it wasn't sexual rape. But it was a violation of my body, all the same. It's perfectly normal to be a bit bent out of shape around doctors after that. Other people have stories like this, and worse.

I tried for years to ignore just how badly I was traumatized. But it came out in my behavior. It come out in an overwhelming sense of doom, that would leave me paralyzed and speechless. It would come out when small things when wrong, and I'd freak out like the world was ending (because, for me, it had been close to true too many times). I would assume I was inadequate to meet the challenges of the situation, and navigate them safely, because too often in the past, this was correct. It wasn't until my brother pulled me aside, and identified it as PTSD, like his military PTSD, that I realized what was going on.

Even still, it wasn't until my health was on the line (again) and I absolutely had to go back to the doctors, that I sought out treatment for my PTSD. I tried to do it on my own at first. I made it through the doctors appointment. I was polite and did everything right. Then I lost my $#!+ in the parking lot, after returning to my car. I broke down in near-hyperventilating tears. Nothing in the doctor's visit had gone wrong! But I was still inconsolably freaked out. I knew then, I had to get therapy before I started trying to do this again.

Things have gotten much better since then. I'm on medication, (or what I like to call #headmeds) which has helped significantly. I'm on a long-acting anxiety medication, and I have short-acting anxiety pills for breakthrough panic episodes (now fewer than 3/month!). I have my symptoms managed, and my success with doctors over the past year is not small feat (including withstanding an awful situation at the University of Colorado). Talk therapy, including EMDR, had a lot to do with that success. The doctors and counselors over at Boulder Mental Health Partners have done a wonderful job. (And it sure does help that they don't have stuffy medical offices and don't wear lab coats!)

I will have this the rest of my life, no doubt. But as I get older, those wounds will heal. I can still be triggered, but as time goes on, those triggers should fade. There is always the possibility of future trauma, but that's true of any human activity. I will face the situation as best I can, and worry about picking up the pieces after. I don't have to try to anticipate every possible bad thing that might happen. I'm capable enough to be able to think things through in the moment. And if I'm overwhelmed? I can always return to therapy.

PTSD is very real. And you don't have to have been in the military, to suffer from it.

Mental Health Month Blog Party! Recognizing Good Mental Health

I know I said I was going to to a Twitter & Tumblr Roundup today, but I completely forgot that today was a scheduled blog party (#mhbogday) for the American Psychological Association! Their challenge: How can you help people recognize the importance of good mental health, overcome stigma, and seek out professional mental health services when needed? Well, first off, I think that mental health is something we shouldn't just consider when it's needed. Mental health is like physical health. We all participate in mental health exercises, we just take most of them for granted. We can enhance our mental health with training and guidance from professionals, no matter what condition we're in. And most people have a "non-serious" form of a mental health issue, and manage it successfully all their lives. There is nothing about mental health that we need to be ashamed about.

Like physical exercise, most people get their mental health from regular daily activities. We engage in routines and rituals that help calm us with their familiarity. We do our morning routine before work, we check off each item in our routine as we complete it, we head into our day knowing we have started off on the right foot by doing all we're supposed to do. This process is so unconscious that we don't even notice it. But when our morning routine is upset, when there's some emergency that interrupts us, boy can we tell in our mental state! Things feel discombobulated, we feel out-of-sorts. Our day moves forward, but we're a little on edge, because our morning mental routine was thrown. We become aware of how important this habit is to our mental health.

Similarly, rituals like birthdays or going to worship, also help us feel a sense of normalcy and a connection to the flow of life. We take these things for granted when it comes to our mental health, when we engage in them successfully. But we notice how much they help our mental state the moment we can't participate. Being too sick to enjoy a birthday, or missing mass that we regularly attend, can upset us deeply. This makes absolute perfect sense! We look forward to these activities! Marking milestones helps ground us in a sense of accomplishment; they remind us of the BIG picture. Rituals like worship and holidays bring tradition and the past into the present; again, they remind us of the bigger picture. These things comfort and console us. When they're present, they help our mental health. When they're missing, we feel it.

As with physical exercise, we can add mental health exercises to our lives to help bolster our overall mental health. Professionals can help by teaching us new techniques and giving us new tools that we can then use in our every-day lives. It doesn't matter what shape we come into walking through the door, they can help improve our mental health. At the very least, validation from the professionals that we're doing well is benefit enough! But what is true of most people (myself absolutely included), is that we've grown up the best we can, but we've picked up a few issues along the way. We may have gotten them early (like childhood), or we may have gotten them through just trying to survive life (medical trauma, Katrina, 9/11, death in the family, victim of a crime). There is no such thing as "battle hardening." Eventually, life gets to everyone. There is no shame in this. And mental health professionals can help us mend the areas of our life where we are wounded in the soul.

Mental health issues can be no big deal, like a fear of spiders. That's not to diminish anyone's fear of spiders! But a fear of spiders can be managed by avoiding them as much as possible, not watching films that use spiders as a theme, having your house or apartment spayed with a chemical barrier, etc. A "serious mental health illness" is a legal term (from the Department of Mental Health and Substance Abuse Services is in the link above), and basically means severe impairment. This affects less than 5% of the population. Most people who use mental health services, like people who use physical health services, do it for a condition that is manageable. Yes, flares can happen that upset the regular flow, but on the whole, the symptoms do not interrupt life. Non-serious mental health illness is just like chronic physical illness. Most people have it, and you'd never know it unless they told you. It is nothing to be ashamed about.

Me personally? I've mentioned here that I have PTSD from my medical experiences. I can have panic attacks trying to see a doctor. It's nothing personal: I don't like doctors. I've been treated horrifically, and I've nearly died twice: once from an adrenal crisis when my blood pressure bottomed out, and second, from a MRSA infection following my surgery. It would be abnormal to go through those situations, and not have it affect your mental health. So, yeah... I'm a little nuts. I'll own that completely.

I also have very rapid-cycling hypomania and depression as a regular function of my migraines. That's what happens when your body dumps its supply of serotonin from the brain and blood. The only thing I can do is hold on to the best of my ability until it passes. I have symptoms like a visual aura, and ways to watch my behavior, that let me know when these moods are coming on. I have tools I've learned, and management techniques I've picked up (never go shopping when in hypomania---everything looks like a good idea!) to keep me safe. I'm on a long-term SSRI medication (#headmed) that works well enough, but it certainly doesn't do a complete job. Hopefully Big Pharma and science will come up with some better answers, soon. Until then, I manage well enough, and things have gotten much better since I got pain control.

We are making amazing technological advancements in our understanding of the brain, and how it functions. From this, we are learning more about all ranges of mental illness, from the mild to the severe. Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, whether you were born with it (and therefore had no choice in the matter) or picked it up along the way (like a bad flu or a broken bone). It's not a sign of weakness. It's a sign of survival. It's the wide range of normal, human behavior. Our mental health is like our physical health---and we should take good care of ourselves! This includes check-ups with a doctor (even if it is just to tell us we're doing fine). We can raise awareness, and take away some of the #stigma, so that people who need help, aren't afraid to get it. Be proud of your mental health! We all have scars...

#HAWMC - Day 25 - Third Person

Think of a memory you have – and write to recreate it. But, inside of going into it as yourself, go into the story as a narrator. Describe your memory using the third person as if you were a character in the story instead of the one telling it. As you write, use as many sensory images (sights, sounds, textures, etc) as you can. Don’t use “I” or “me” unless you include dialogue in your memory.

The familiar strains of a beautiful song ran through her head. "Oooohhh sometimes... I get a good feeling. Yeah." The cool night air played against her sun-burn skin. "I get a feeling that I never, never, never, never had before, oh, no. I get a good feeling, yeah. The song had been running through her head for a while now. She had noticed her mood was improving greatly, and this worried her. Promises of better days ahead and hope for a brighter tomorrow was often something that left her disappointed when the darkness remained. Hope wasn't a guarantee. Nothing in life was, but death. But even those morbid thoughts couldn't shake her mind from the obvious truth: she felt better.

It had taken a lot of work to get her there. She was on four different medications for pain, two for the chronic nausea, and three to keep her alive. She was also on a head med, because tough times are difficult to go through, and the quick thought entered into her head, "What if I could come off of that too?" But then she quickly corrected herself, "No! Don't think that! Mustn't think that! No getting hopes up! Hopes hurt..." And she pushed the thought from her head before she could day-dream about it. If that day came to pass, it would come to pass. Anticipating it didn't help.

"Oooohhh sometimes... I get a good feeling. Yeah." The combination of drugs was working, and it wasn't a combination of drugs that was going to affect her thinking. Hallelujah! This was better thank what she had hoped for in terms of pain care. Her case had been so difficult for so long, forcing pain doctor after pain doctor to tell her, "I'm sorry, we have nothing left for you..." But an old medication that had stopped working had started working again at a lower dose, and a breakthrough in her diagnosis had led to the discovery of two other pain medications she could use. Now all of this in combination had her blasting through limitations she used to have before and waking up the next day not much worse off than the day before. It was almost like being healthy. "I get a feeling that I never, never, never, never had before, oh, no. I get a good feeling, yeah.

Granted, it had only been a week of activity on the new medications, but what a week! Every day was used for activities. That was unheard of. She was traveling and not falling apart at her destination---a ten-year first. If she could keep stringing together days like this, she'd be a force of nature! Physical therapy had already been going well for a month, but now she could tell her therapists to really push it---she had endurance again. "Oooohhh sometimes... I get a good feeling. Yeah." It had been a long, hard climb, but things were finally looking... (what was the word she was looking for?) ... manageable.

She'd known that she hadn't looked sick for a long time, but now she was beginning to feel it consistently... reliably... even under very taxing conditions. Things were starting to look somewhat normal again."I get a feeling that I never, never, never, never had before, oh, no. I get a good feeling, yeah. She'd been working at home at a steady pace and was starting to trust her ability to manage her symptoms so that they were completely invisible. She was starting to be able to behave like a really, real adult again. That's what was helping her mood the most: being able to be responsible towards herself and other people again.

Yeah, that was a good feeling...

#HAWMC - I learned it the hard way...

"It's not the mistakes we make that matters.
It's out recovery from them that counts."
-Deng Xiaoping

Some of the beliefs we hold play a significant role in our lives today because we learned them the hard way. According to human nature, we will make mistakes throughout our lifetime. However, more important than the mistake itself is what we do when we realize we have stumbled. Sometimes, it is tough to address our slip-ups and move ahead. But it’s necessary in life. So for today’s prompt – what’s a lesson you learned the hard way?

I tell ya... some days it seems like I've learned everything the hard way. I never was someone to take anyone's advice---I wanted to sum up a situation myself and come to my own conclusions, thank you very much. I wasn't going to let anyone do my thinking for me. Of course this has led to many a situation where I walked away, more than a little embarrassed, going, "Oh... that's why they say that's a bad idea. Right! Totally got that now." But I still wouldn't trade a lot of my first-hand knowledge. There's learning you get from experience, that no amount of advice can teach.

Question is, is it worth the cost of learning it? The toothpaste can't be put back into the tube, once it's squeezed out. Some things cannot be undone. Some things cannot be unlearnt. There are always consequences, seen and unseen. There are quite a few things where I think... "Ooo... I really didn't need to make that mistake. Yie." But, ya know... it's the recovery from it that counts. Everyone makes mistakes. That's what makes us human. Machines are about perfect. I am not supposed to be a machine. Mistakes are going to happen. A lot. Little ones and big ones. So what? They're not important. What's important is to keep striving despite them.

I've learned the hard way how to read the signs of my symptoms, and how to manage those symptoms. There was no other way to learn but the hard way. They don't give classes on how to successfully manage a chronic illness. No one majors in "how to be sick." These were very personal life-lessons I had to learn on my own. No one else lives in my body but me. How do you teach a feeling? Yet it's in learning those feelings that I can predict what I need so that my disease-caused mistakes are fewer and farther between. I think after my work of 10 years, I'm starting to finally get a handle on how to manage this new, strange machinery, that is my messed-up body. We'll see.

Time will tell.

#HAWMC - Writer's choice! - Seattle trip update

I met with my new/old neuroendocrinologist, Dr. Broyles, yesterday in her downtown office. New, because I'm establishing care with her as a new patient. Old, because I was her patient from 2005 to 2008. It was wonderful. She even reminded me that one of my MRIs had shown inflammation in my pituitary stalk, and that this was further evidence of my diagnosis of Autoimmune Hypophysitis (lymphocytic hypophysitis). She hadn't heard of the studies about the cure that I was talking about, but she was excited and was going to read up on it. She also had a drug she was working with, that they don't even have studies out for yet! This trip was well worth it!

She took one look at my results from Colorado University, and was appalled: "And they tried to tell you this was a normal response?" She even had a follow up question: "Do you know what the strength of the injection was? Were they using..." and then it turned into scientific jargon I don't remember. But Colorado University didn't even mention there were two possible injection types. You'd think if they wanted to prove all my previous doctors were quacks, they'd at least cover their behinds. I'm going to have a long conversation with their hospital administration when I get home.

So the plan is, she's going to look over the studies, pull up all my old information (some of which is in archive) and give my case a good, thorough looking-at. She's going to contact the folks who ran the studies to see what levels of the medications they used, and see if it's a protocol we want to try. We both know that the protocol is really risky---we'd basically be pushing my immune system as close to off as we can get it for 16 weeks. That's a big deal. It will be like when cancer patients can't be around anyone so they don't catch accidently catch a cold and die. I will have to be super, super careful. And high-dose steroids means around 100mg/day. YUCK! I will be starving all the time, my skin will hate me, and oh, my poor emotions! It will be hell.

But if the studies hold out... if this shows that it really can reset my body and eliminate all traces of the disease... Sixteen weeks is nothing. It takes forty weeks to make a baby. I will do what needs to be done. She took a bit of blood to see where my renin levels are at, check my thyroid and other basic things. Things move forward from here.

Oh! So exciting!!!



[Other posts on my Seattle Trip]

[The back-story in chronological order:]
Trying to get an appointment in Denver
My discovery of the paper on the possible cure
Got an appointment!
CU Neuroendocrinologist not looking so good
Looking worse now...
And still worse...
But wait? A glimmer of hope?
Nope... no such luck...
Maybe if I switch doctors in-house? No....

How to be happy being broken...

There is no way to insulate ourselves from mistakes. You can memorize everything, you can graduate magna cum laude, and get more degrees than a thermometer... You will still make mistakes. No one is immune. There is no vaccination. There is no pill to make you perfect. Stand up, and know that you are enough anyway. There is no formula for a perfect life. In fact, did you know that there are two types of happiness?! (You do, but you probably weren't even aware of it.) And most of how we go about happiness is all wrong. We go for happiness-in-the-moment, when we should be going for happiness-in-the-memory.

What's amazing (they've measured this), is that my happiness-in-the-moment can be greater, but it's my happiness-in-the-memory that is more important to my overall sense of well-being. That is, I can go through a terrible experience, but if I'm able to remember it in a positive way, it gives the whole experience a feeling of happiness. And it's this memory of happiness that is more important to how I rate my whole life as whether it's happy or not. Conversely, we can be happy for something in the moment, but if we don't remember it in a happy way, it can spoil the whole experience. We know this already. We have a phrases for it: "buyer's remorse." ... "the Honeymoon period" ... "it seemed like a good idea at the time." I can be absolutely thrilled in the moment, but if I remember it in a negative light, all that momentary joy is meaningless. And we can be enjoying and experience and having a grand old time, but if it's ruined at the last second, the whole experience gets ruined. We were happy for 99% of the event. But that 1%, because it was the last one percent, makes or breaks all of it.

Isn't it funny how our minds work? Here's the guy who did the science behind it:



There was a skiing trip that my family got to take one year where everything went wrong. Our plane was delayed by several hours so we didn't get on the ground until around midnight. We were all kids at the time, so we were exhausted. When we finally piled into the rental car, the first one wouldn't start. So we piled everything out, put it in the next rental car, only to discover once we'd left the lot (of course), that the gas gauge didn't work. Third rental car, and we're finally on our way, only to then go through so many other mistakes and injustices on the trip (the hot water heater in our unit self-destructed, the replacement unit they gave us the front door wouldn't close...) that it just got funny. It was so absurd, and so much went wrong that we ended up laughing about the whole thing by the end. It was something out of National Lampoon's Family Vacation. And even though it was the vacation from hell, we still laugh about it to this day. At the time we were miserable. We've been happy about it ever since.

I hold the power to be happy about all my memories, if I want. There are certainly some bad memories that should probably stay bad. Hot does still mean hot, and fire burns... But even if the experience was terrible, I don't have to remember the experience terribly. College was an awfully hard experience for me, constantly filled with stress, financial worry, poor health and near-constant performance anxiety. But I got through. And I can look back on that whole experience proudly, even if I was a wreck at the time. Same goes for my health experiences. They're awful to go through! But when I triumph on the other side, I can look back and be proud of myself for going through all that. I have very visible, bright, white scars on my face from battling MRSA (it nearly killed me). But I never hide those scars with make-up. You should know I went through battle. I'm proud I survived. The scars tell that tale.

I can even help write this story of happiness ahead of time. I can look at my life and imagine, "Now, when I look back on this time, what am I going to be grateful for?" Thinking of my life in those terms, I can set myself up for happiness in the future, and experience a taste of it now. For me, even though I'm desperately trying to get back to a "normal" life, I am going to look back on this time and be grateful for all the research I was able to do. I've had the opportunity to let my curiosity wander and chase after what it finds fascinating, and I have found some amazing things (including the video above). Since I now know the memory is more important than the experience, I can see my life for how I will remember it, and then the experience of it isn't so difficult. Right now, this moment can be broken all it wants, if I can remember it happily, that's what counts. I can be broken in many ways, but if I remember me happily, that's what matters.

How are you going to remember your today, tomorrow?

Responsibility and self esteem

Pushing the Limits, bronze sculpture by Gregory Reade

As I've slowly begun to strengthen, as a result of physical therapy, I've noticed my mood increase considerably. But it's not from the physical therapy, itself, per se. It's because I'm able to do the little things again. You might be amazed by these little things that make me so head-spinningly proud; they're very mundane. But they're things I can do that allow me to be more responsible towards myself. THAT is what's helping my mood. I'm able to do simple things that are a little more responsible, and each time I'm able to add a "good deed", my self-esteem grows.

I have enough energy to fix a meal and put the dishes away afterwards! I can also do a little spot cleaning, so that you'd never know something was cooked there. I can make meals from (relative) scratch. But for years I had to rely on microwave food because it hurt to stand that long. The bottom of my feet would catch on fire withing minutes. I even kept a chair by the microwave so I could rest. Now I can stand long enough to brown meat, make my sauce, finish the pasta and combine it all together. I don't have to rely on frozen food. That's HUGE, and probably a lot better for me nutritionally.

My car is clean. Before now, it was too much to ask me to bring the mail in with me when I left the car. It was too much to ask after being out and about. Whenever I was getting home, I was always near exhaustion or in pain. Maintaining a clean car doesn't fall high on the priority list. Open mail and magazines piled in the passenger and back seats. About a month ago, when it first started getting nice, I was able to clean out snow-drifts of paper. These days when I get home, I don't have all that pain. It's no problem to grab a few extra things on my way inside and maintain the cleanliness of my car. My hands aren't on fire or aching from the micro-vibrations in holding a steering wheel. Beauty!

Best of all, I'm pacing myself well enough that I haven't reaped enormous costs on the other side! Talk about being responsible! You mean I may actually have a handle on this bag o' bones? You mean maybe I've learned how to read these wacko, random symptoms well enough? Have I really learned how to recognize when I need to rest and when I can push it, so that I can make improvements to body? Wow. Wouldn't that be awesome? Sure, I could push my limits before, but there was always hell to pay on the other side. When we're in the grips of chronic illness, anything we do is robbing Peter to pay Paul, and Paul takes his interest in pain. But now, it seems that grip is loosening on me. Now I push a little, ease off when I notice the fatigue creeping in, I'm able to keep myself uninjured. It's sad that my body is such a dangerous place, but when was the world safe? Perhaps I'm learning to manage anyway, and these exercises will give we more wiggle room moving forward!

I do hope this trend continues. I hope it's not a fluke of the incredibly dry weather we've been having. I hope I'm actually getting better at these things. Because each time I'm able to do one of these little responsible things, a little voice chimes in my head, "Oh, look at what a good girl you're being! You're making a meal like a really-real adult!" or "Wow, look at that, girlfriend! You've kept your car clean for a month now! Fierce!" or as I got to tweet earlier: "#PhysicalTherapy went well today! I got to #levelup & I'm now doing more difficult exercises. Woot! #IamMighty Need a nap low. Lol" You know I'll be prancing like a peacock when I can actually hang my clothes up, rather than just moving them from the clean basket to the dirty basket!

And you may have noticed it, but I didn't talk about this improvement for a month. I didn't want to jinx it. There are so many failures---of drugs, of therapies, of professionals, of ourselves---that we encounter as the chronically ill, that it can be really difficult to believe in something. However, I must admit that my life has improved, maybe not dramatically, but certainly fundamentally. I've been able to do so many of the little things I usually just ignore, guiltily. Now that I can do them again, it's like a weight has lifted. I'm being responsible, things look better, order has been restored where there was once chaos.

Let there be more of this, please!

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!!

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...

When everything falls down, it's an opportunity to rebuild

Ishvari - the Hindu Goddess of Never Not Broken

This one is kind of long, bear with me... I've noticed a lot, with myself, with the people I've counseled, that we have a tendency to rush through solving uncomfortable problems. It's not just habit... We came to this process for a reason. It makes for a quick resolution so our lives don't have to be interrupted horribly. We tend to forget, however, what we're feeling in the first place. We simply say, "I'm feeling X. X is bad. I need to stop feeling X." Wham, bam, problem solved, right? Except that we've forgotten one key step (and I forget this all the time too...). We forget to check to see if the feelings are reasonable, if they're warranted, if it's not just the feeling we need to solve but that there's a larger problem going on. "I'm feeling pain. Pain is bad. I need to stop feeling pain." This can quickly turn into managing a symptom while a larger problem (the one causing the symptom) festers and grows into a crisis. This is true for both physical and emotional feelings.

The one where this stands out the most is fear. "I'm terrified. Terrified is bad. I need to stop feeling terrified." Sure. I agree. But let's also stop a minute, after the terror has been addressed, and look at what got us there in the first place. What caused the feelings of terror? It may be perfectly reasonable. They may not be constructive feelings right now, but we didn't get to this line of thinking because we were delusional. We got there because we've had bad experiences in the past, and this one is starting to look just like that one, and OH MY GOD GET ME OUTTA HERE!!! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!! This is usually diagnosed as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). They call it a disorder, which by their book is true. But that doesn't mean it's bad. We obviously survived that god-awful situation that made us twitchy. We did something right... Is that really a disorder or the voice of experience? So who am I to say that you're not exactly right that this situation looks like it's heading that way? But is that actually where it's heading? Are we sure?

If we drop a brick from a 60-story building, does it necessarily hit the ground? No. It may hit a balcony on the 32nd floor. Someone could stick their head out the window at just the wrong time. It could land on a truck driving past before it hits the ground. Just because the brick is falling, doesn't mean it hits the ground. Just because I know it could go hell-fire-fury bad, that doesn't mean it must go that way. And even though I see the possibility and the possibility terrifies me, I need to remember that I'm not going into this, without experience and wisdom. I'm a medical veteran. Some folks are actual veterans. We've been the dark places, have been broken to serve a horrible necessity, and come back to try to fit ourselves back into normal society, where people can't even imagine what we've seen. That's lonely. But you're not alone. You're elite.

Much of the problem I see is that we don't always recognize our successes. We take our successes for granted: why keep working on it if it worked? On to the next one. We remember the failures: if we're going to avoid it in the future, we've got to beat ourselves up right good so this never happens again.... That can easily lead to a lot of sleepless nights and poor self-esteem, quickly. Mommy clapped and cheered the first time we tied our shoes. We were so proud. Do we still clap and cheer each time successfully tie our shoes? No... we've got this one in the bag. We're an old hat at it. No need for praise, I know I'm a champion shoe-tier. It's when I'm not sure of my skills that I want the reassurance and the recognition.

I don't want you to hear, "I'm sick! I'm sick! I'm sick!" all the time. I want you to hear, "I'm dealing with something new and scary that even my doctor, the professional, can't tell me about very well... I'm scouring the internet because no one can tell me what's going to happen to me, and everything I thought about the world has been turned upside-down!" But that's a mouthful, and it took me over a decade of research to realize that's what I've been trying to say this whole time!

And though it may be silly, I've taken to rewarding myself, like I was when I was a child, when I'm able to do things that I normally can't do because of my illness. I'll clap and cheer, by god. Yes, I was an old pro at that... under healthy body conditions. But now I'm going at this on the expert difficulty levels, so there's going to be a learning curve again. Things aren't going to come as easily. It's going to take more work for less payoff. In some cases, I'm going to have to come up with an entirely different game plan, test it out, and find what works by trial and error. So it's doubly important that I recognize what an achievement it is. It looks the same as the million other times I've done it, but the experience is not the same. Getting through it wisely is what makes me mighty.

Comparing me to a healthy person just isn't fair. To the healthy person! Sure my young friends can run around and hike and zip and play on the mountainside. But they crash for naps afterwards, while I paced myself and could enjoy the whole day. I'm also an expert at functioning when I feel like crap. Their first instinct is to fall out. Mine is, "yeah... what else is new?" So as they sleep, I'm able to have the place all to myself. It goes back to the old Einstein quote: "Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid."

Sure, based against most human activities, I'm no good at those. But put me in my element, and just watch me soar. I never lose my abilities to handle a crisis or keep going when it gets tough. They sleep most of the time, because "my element" are moments that don't come often, and thank goodness for that. I wouldn't want everyone living in my element. That's just too rough. If my being sick means someone else doesn't have to go through this, I'll take one for the team, no problem.

Too often I think we forget this big picture. We forget that it's reasonable to feel scared and abandoned and inconsolable and all that... Just because we'd rather not have those feelings doesn't mean they're always something to be avoided. Sometimes they're things we need to embrace as part of the process. They're important feelings, and they're uncomfortable so we'll take notice of them! But these bad feelings don't have to be the end of the story. They can be a simple chapter in a long book that ultimately ends up well.

All heroes go through hard times. But because we're the audience, it's easy to say, "Hang in there! you can do this! Success is right around the corner!!" But we're not in it. We're on the outside. It's a different story when we're trying to be the hero, and it all looks lost. It's easy to lose heart in the fight. Because some days it difficult to tell if we're in a tale or triumph, or a tale of tragedy.

It's okay to feel scared, hopeless, abandoned, etc. It might not be fun, but it doesn't mean eminent death (I hope!!). What we can do is slow down and take a look at the feelings. What started me feeling this way? Why am I anticipating that it's going to be like I'm imagining? Where's my evidence? Okay, which of those pieces of evidence are valid, and which are not? Which are pieces of evidence that could possibly mean more that one thing, that I need to watch and get more information on? What could possibly change to steer this situation in a new direction? Can I make adjustments to help the situation have a more positive outcome than the time that scared the bejeezus out of me? What are my options here?

What we may find is that we're absolutely right! We have been abandoned. It is a hopeless situation. We are scared out of our minds with good reason. But that doesn't have to stop us. So we've been abandoned. That doesn't make us unworthy or unlovable. So it's hopeless. That doesn't mean we don't give it our best shot anyway! So we're scared out of our minds. It's SCARY. You're having a human reaction. That's normal and okay. It's what you do with that, that counts.

The abandonment may have had nothing to do with us at all! Sometimes it happens, and it's sad. The one the you wanted with all your heart may have abandoned you, but they may not have been able to see a good thing when they had it. And if they can't appreciate you, why bother? The abandonment may have been a gift. Or the abandonment may be temporary: the other person needs their space because they're overwhelmed and they need to leave. Sure it hurts. Absolutely. But we keep ourselves. We can help that hurt go away. We can give to ourselves what we wanted them to give to us, and in that way we're able to get our needs met enough. Abandonment comes in all forms. Whatever the form, the answer is the same: Use that time to nurture ourselves so that we can be ready, whatever the future brings. Yes, we're lonely, but we can remind ourselves what we love about ourselves, and in that way remember why we're worth being kind towards.

We may find ourselves in a hopeless situation. There are plenty of medical mysteries that baffle doctors and end up as tragic tales of suffering and death. If you were sick with one of these diseases and not depressed, I would wonder what's wrong with you. It's normal to feel upset about being sick!! Good lord, you "normal" people have no idea how much you whine when you get sick. You think we whine? Dear lord... If I had a tape recorder, you'd sing a different tune! Lol. I see it in my Facebook news updates. The chronic illness folks only complain when it hits epic levels. Healthy people complain at the first sign of symptoms. "Sniffles and sore throat. Oh, man, I hope this is just seasonal and I'm not getting a cold." Compared to, "Had to go to the ER again last night. Thankfully it was only a 4 hour visit." It's two completely different worlds. You can't compare the two situations or even call them similar. So we shouldn't berate ourselves, on either side. Don't judge a fish on it's ability to climb a tree.

We may find ourselves inconsolable. That's okay too. There is something to be said for allowing ourselves a complete and total breakdown. Sometimes, we just hit our limit and have to stop and rest. When we do, all the emotions that we've been pushing aside because we've been trying to Get Stuff Done, come rushing to the surface. We break down. We feel weak and vulnerable. We may feel, because of all this, that we've failed or we're not up to the task. This isn't necessarily true. It may just be that we've hit our limit and need to rest. We need to take a break and concentrate on something else for a little while, because we're frustrated, feeling hopeless and trapped, and it's driving us crazy. None of that means we're weak or inadequate. No one can stand on the shore and hold back the tide. If you judge a fish be their ability to climb a tree... It means we're human animals and we just found our threshold! Like the govenor on a car engine, we can press the gas all we like... the car is not going to go faster. It's okay to allow ourselves time to stop, rest, think things over without pressure, and try again later. Life and love are marathons to be endured, not a race to be won.

Too often, I feel, we find ourselves in these situations where we're overwhelmed and trapped, where we've run into some life problem that no one could handle but we have to anyway... and we end up feeling miserable at ourselves. The situation was traumatic. So our brain holds on to it, ruminating and going over the scenarios again and again in an effort to try and keep us safe. It's obnoxious at best, and life-crippling at worst. We need to protect ourselves from that ever happening again!!! And because we felt couldn't protect ourselves, couldn't protect our friends and family, we end up feeling like we don't deserve to live. We feel like a failure as a human being. We feel like because we didn't feel brave, strong, or powerful, that we can't handle it it if happens again. This isn't true.

Just as bones can be set, mended, and made strong again, so can our sense of self. We will never again be the person we once were (neither are bones after they're broken), but that's okay. We made it through. That situation wasn't the end of us. And that situation may define us, but we get to choose the definition. Broken? Sure. I'm never not broken. But there's a Goddess of "Never not broken" and she seems pretty cool to me. She rides the back of a crocodile, and she is a warrior goddess. Like the line from the Modest Mouse song, Dashboard, "Oh, it should have been, could have been worse than it had even gone...". The things that I have been through should have ended me. But they didn't end all of me. This is an chance to create a new me that's more of what I like and less of what I don't like. When everything falls down, it's an opportunity to rebuild.