Sadness

Hey all.

Once again, it’s been a while since I posted. It’s been an interesting month, and I don’t even really know where to begin. Chronologically is best, I guess.

I started out writing this post talking about visiting my best friend in Chicago and taking a millinery class. But I’m just too tired and sad to finish it. Maybe I’ll elaborate later, because they were both really good times, but something else has dominated my mind and I feel like I can’t write about anything else. And I think I have to write about this, because it’s the only way for me to get it out. I’ll write and cry about it once, and then I’ll be done.

I spent the week learning hat-making. It was grueling but fun, it kept me busy the whole day and it left me exhausted at night. That was perfect, because it kept my mind off of what was going on during the week and why I chose to take that particular class in the first place. This past week was the week-long camp that I’ve done for five years, and the camp I was supposed to take over directing (see Moving On for some background). I purposely chose to take the hat-making class because I meant that I wouldn’t be home during camp, and wouldn’t have to, every day, drive past the church where it’s held and be reminded that that’s not a part of my life anymore.

It’s done. It’s over. I don’t know how to feel. I had kind of blocked it from my mind at the beginning of the week, and was just focusing on making these really difficult hats. But then Wednesday came and, as I sat in the dorm room in the evening, I suddenly wondered what was happening at camp at that moment. Dinner would have been over, so would they be doing the talent show, like they normally did on Wednesdays? Or would they maybe be watching a movie? Or doing something else entirely? It hit me at that moment that I had no idea. I had no idea what they were doing, because I wasn’t part of the camp anymore. I wasn’t directing, I wasn’t even volunteering there. I had absolutely not a clue what the schedule was, or who was there, or what things were new or different from previous years. And, more importantly, I wasn’t there for the campers that counted on me to be there. I had let them down. There was no way I could have gone after everything that had happened, but I still felt like I had failed them. They had no idea what all had happened, and I know several were probably asking where I was, but I had still let them down. I wonder how the new directors handled them asking about me, if they did.

I came home yesterday to an empty house (except for, you know, six cats and a rabbit). My parents are in San Francisco for the weekend for their anniversary, so I have today and tomorrow to pull myself together. I was okay during the day today because I kept myself busy — I organized all my bookmaking supplies, and then promptly messed them up again as I made a few small books. I engrossed myself in many episodes of Doctor Who. I played Candy Crush. But now I’m tired of Doctor Who for the moment, I have no more lives in Candy Crush, and I have no inspiration for books. I’m just sitting here, thinking, which is bad.

It’s all finally catching up with me. I just feel so sad, so tired, so unwilling to do anything. I just want to lay here, staring at the television and watching the Zimmerman trial coverage without taking anything in. I don’t want to clean up dinner, I don’t want to put away my book supplies, I don’t even want to read. I just want to be miserable.

I’m so glad everyone is gone for the weekend. I gives me time to grieve by myself, without having to try and be falsely happy or endure my parents trying to understand what’s wrong and how I feel. They don’t know. They think they do, but they don’t. Camp meant everything to me, and it was the thing that I looked forward to every year. I made countless friends there, friends that are so much more true and loyal than most friends you find in the normal world. I had my thoughts and opinions completely turned on their heads. I became comfortable working with people that most others cringe from and avoid. The whole experience has helped me grow into the person I am now, and has shaped my life and morals and goals since then. And now it’s all gone.

I’m still angry because I feel like I was purposely cut out, but I’m mostly just sad. It was a bad situation for everyone, including the new directors and the old, but I feel like it could have been handled better so that it didn’t come to this. And the worst part is that I have absolutely no idea why I was forced out. I tried to get answers and was evaded every time. I don’t understand — from the first time I was asked to join leadership, it was never ambiguous that I was supposed to take over. And then camp came last year and suddenly I wasn’t. And since then I have heard nothing from the directors, and was basically ignored despite earlier assurances that I would still be heavily involved. I wasn’t even asked to help plan and put together the reunion for the camp that I helped plan. They basically just dropped me, and not knowing why is the absolute worst part.

I do have theories, and none of them are reassuring. Was I kicked out because I was an atheist? Was it just because they didn’t want me personally to lead? Was it something I did or did not do? I honestly feel like I don’t care what the reasoning is — I just want and deserve to know. I don’t care how uncomfortable it would be for those in charge to tell me. They should have the balls to lay it out and tell me the truth, not dance around it and never provide answers and hope that I don’t notice.

I don’t know. I just feel like this huge part of my life has been ripped away. I had planned on being part of this camp until its end, and now that plan is no more, and not by my choice. I’m not sad that any of the past five years has happened, because they made me the person I am today. I just wish it had ended differently, less harshly.

So I’m just going to chill tonight and wallow in my misery. I’m going to get it all out now so that when everyone gets home, I can lock it all away and pretend to be happy until it’s far enough away that I can try to move on. Maybe that’ll be soon, maybe that’ll take a while. This next week might be bad because pictures might be put up, so I’ll be forced to see what all they did and be reminded that I wasn’t there. I’ll have to see who served as companions for my campers of the past few years, and wish that I had been in their place instead. But hopefully I’ll be able to move on again soon and learn something from all of this. Sorry for the pity party over here, but I needed to get all this out somewhere. Any words of encouragement or advice are always welcome.

Updates!

Alright, time for some updates ^^

Went back to my sports medicine doctor and back to PT this week. My physical therapist gave me a few more exercises to add into my routine (which, this time, I will make routine), specifically to work on stretching my psoas. My iliopsoas on my left side were super, super tight and tender. He tried to do some releases on them, and it was horrible. About the worst pain I’ve been through in sports med or PT so far (well, maybe tied with the trochanter/hip pain…), and now I have bruises and terrible tenderness, even a few days later. But hopefully the new exercises will help some.

I got to talk with my sports med doctor about my x-ray results. She said she’s not really that concerned about the degeneration of the symphysis pubis, since I’m not experiencing pain symptoms with that. But it is arthritis, and probably caused by the abnormal pelvic mechanics I’ve had for, well, my whole life, I guess. I’m just not sure what the implications of it are since I already have degeneration so young. But, I guess we’ll see.

With the hips, she basically told me what I’ve already figured out from research. Retroversion is where the acetabulum is rotated back, so the femur sits and moves in the socket abnormally. It also puts me at much higher risk for impingement and wearing down of the labrum. She doesn’t know how far back it’s rotated, nor how bad it really is, but both she and my physical therapist recommended me seeing a hip specialist. So I have an appointment with a really good one near home, but I can’t get in until September. Boo. But he’s a great doctor, and my symptoms aren’t terrible, so that’s not too bad. And, if something changes and they do get bad before then, I have the name and number of another doctor who I could probably get in to see much earlier. So I have a lot of options.

Basically, what I’ve been told will happen when I see this doctor, is that I might have to get 3D CT scans (which look freaking awesome) so that he can get the most accurate picture of what’s going on inside my hips. Then I have a few options, probably. Injections, which I already know make me flare up worse for a while and then don’t do terribly much, or an arthroscopic surgery to see what’s going on and what can be done.

I really don’t like the idea of surgery, but if helps or can fix something, that would be great. I suppose it would be better to do something now, when I’m younger and heal better, than to wait until I’m older and something more serious happens. I’ll have the time before I start grad school, but I don’t know if I would be able to fit both hips in in that time. I don’t know, we’ll just have to see what the hip specialist says in September.

Other news: I’m totally done with my roommates. I moved all of my stuff into my room (which was literally everything in the apartment), and the younger roommate is paying for the couch, as well as for some other stuff her cat destroyed during her time there. I took the electric bill out of my name, forcing them to pick it up and pay for it all themselves. I’m just glad that this roommate nightmare is over. Here’s to hoping that I’m done with roommates forever (minus possibly my BFF for grad school) XP

I also took my bookmaking class last week. Holy crap. My new favorite thing. I got all of my tools (bone folders, awls, micro spatula, waxed linen, knives!) and awesome paper and binder’s board and such, and am now making my own books! Currently working on a bound book of all of the cards that I got from my high school graduation! And I’ve been making really tiny books to put musings and such in, as well as mini books for fortune cookie fortunes! :’D I’m thinking about opening an Etsy shop or something — I’d love to start selling them and doing custom books, but I just don’t even know where to start! No matter what, though, I love making them, and will keep it up!

Forgetting

Today I forgot how to make a paper crane.

That might sound like no big deal, but it’s actually a huge deal. When I was in elementary school, we did a fundraiser based on the book Sadako and the 1000 Paper Cranes. We had a big session in the gym the day it was announced, where every one of us learned how to make an origami crane. We made more than the thousand that was our goal, and they hung all over the school, in a ranbow of colors.

I can’t remember what we were fundraising for anymore, or what our prize was for reaching our goal of 1000 paper cranes, but ever since then, I’ve always made paper cranes when I get bored. I make them out of napkin wrappers in restaurants, scraps of notebook paper in class, wrappers from candies. The steps to making a crane have been ingrained in my memory for 16 years; I can pretty much make a crane with my eyes closed and completely preoccupied with something else.

Or at least, I used to be able to. I’m taking a paper batik and bookmaking class for studio art credits for graduate school. Today I finished my book early and was bored, so I picked up a square of bright magenta paper and started the first steps to making a crane. Fold diagonally in half, fold again the other way. Fold in half to make a rectangle and fold the other way. Push all of the corners up to form a point, the flatten to form a square. Then…

I totally blanked out. I had no idea what to do next. I sat there and stared at the square of paper, turning it this way and that, trying to figure out what the next step was. I pushed the flaps in and out, without any idea of how to fold the paper to make the wings and legs. It took me about a minute of playing around before it finally kind of came back to me. I was incredibly relieved, but also upset.

I wasn’t this upset after leaving my car keys in the freezer, nor was I this upset when I forgot how to roll down my car windows. Troubled, yes, but upset, no. Those were just little things that didn’t really matter (or at least the car keys were, but forgetting how to roll down the window was pretty bad). But this — this is huge. I feel like I lost a part of myself that I’ve had for more than a decade and a half. When we go to restaurants and such, my family members always pass me their napkin wrappers for me to make cranes out of. It’s what they know me for, and what I do in my down time and for relaxation, or when I just have nothing else to do and there’s paper handy. And today I feel like that little part of me that I’m known for disappeared.

I don’t know what to do. I could go back to my doctor and ask to have my medication reduced again, but my pain levels would probably increase, and I don’t want to start next semester being in pain all the time. Or I could reduce and go on a pain medication, but that’s not something I really want right now — I’ve resisted going on pain meds so far, and don’t want to start now. I could also switch medications, but that would mean months of figuring out the dosage, if it even works. And then there are the side effects to contend with. Who knows what those might be? Medication is about balance, and I’m at a point now where I need to decide what’s important and what needs and wants outweigh the others. I was willing to deal with a bit of memory loss when it came to small things like where I left my keys, but this is much, much bigger than that. This is part of my identity.

I dunno. I should probably go back and see what she says. My next actual appointment isn’t until September (about the longest I’ve going without seeing her since she became my PCP), but I know I could get in within the week if I wanted to. She’ll probably blow me off and tell me what I’ve already said: “Medication is about finding balance between the pros and cons.” But is a little more pain control worth the continuing degeneration of my memory? I just don’t know. I need to think on this more before I make a decision.

Well that’s…unexpected

I finally got the hip x-ray results from the radiologist the other day, and it was kind of a shock. My doctor initially thought hip impingement, which ended up not quite being the case. I’m at risk for FAI, but that’s not the underlying cause of my hip problems.

I turns out that I have acetabular retroversion in both hips, and that this puts me at risk for FAI. This is a really difficult disorder to describe, as it’s pretty abstract. Basically the socket in the hip is supposed to be rotated towards the front, so that you would be looking into the opening were the head of the femur not there. With acetabular retroversion, the socket opening is turned so that it’s not in that forward-facing position; rather, it’s turned towards the back. Here are some x-ray images that depict normal hips versus those with acetabular retroversion:

Normal hips. The green line and arrow represent the lip of the front of the acetabulum. The yellow arrow and line represent the back lip.

Hips with acetabular retroversion. Again, the yellow represents the front and the green represents the back. In “A” you can see the characteristic figure eight pattern that identifies it. You can also see the rotation in figure “B,” where you can’t really see into the socket.

My x-rays also showed degeneration of the symphysis pubis. Not quite sure what that means, but it definitely doesn’t sound good. Looking it up, it looks like it’s usually associated with aging or postpartum women. Since I’m neither, it’s a bit more confusing. Another source said that abnormal pelvic mechanics can contribute degeneration, which I guess the AR would constitute as that…But I still don’t know what the implications of that are, or how it could be halted.

I’m honestly kind of worried at this point. My hip pain has only gotten worse over the past few weeks, to the point where it’s almost constant when I walk. And I’ve been getting groin pain, which I never did before. I was reading that when a person with AR starts to get hip pain, it’s a sign that the body can no longer deal with the abnormal pelvic mechanics. Again, I don’t know what the implications of this are, but I’m definitely worried. I don’t get to see my sports medicine doctor until the 18th, so I have some time to worry, but I’m hoping to start up PT again this week, so maybe he’ll be able to give me some answers.

I’ve also had other nonsense to deal with. Particularly: roommates. Good. Lord. Can I tell you just how excited I am to live by myself next semester? I never, ever, ever want to live with another roommate ever again, unless it’s my BFF in Chicago. First, I’ve got one roommate throwing an absolute fit because she doesn’t want to pay a third of the electriv bill, she wants to pay a quarter. One roommate moved out and isn’t coming back, so it makes sense to only split it three ways instead of four (since she’s literally using no energy), but this girl is all mad because she claims that she paid for her quarter when she barely lived there the first half of the year, and that she used like no energy (not true — she does laundry like every three to four days, so her portion of the bill is by FAR the largest). We finally settled it so that I would be paying the last two week bill by myself, and she would pay a third. Which really makes no sense and isn’t fair, but whatever. I don’t want o fight about it.

Cliffnotes on the other issue, as it’s kind of a long story. My other roommate also brought back her demon cat, behind my and my other roommate’s back, after telling us she wasn’t bringing her back over the summer, and has been lying about it to us. I caught her red-handed with the cat the other day when I went down to pay my rent. The cat has already torn up the apartment and torn up my own personal leather couch. I tried to gently confront her about it all but she was really combative, so I walked away, as I did not want to fight. I then got a text from a friend with screenshots from her Twitter account, which she had made private and afterwards had an absolute freak out about me, calling me a “lunatic” and “psycho” and saying I was “stalking” her and that that was “disturbing” and “scary.” …What?! The girl is just really immature and childish. I wrote her a message addressing all this and explaining why I (and my other roommate) were upset, but I haven’t heard back from her yet. I actually had to e-mail it rather than send it over Facebook as I had planned, as she BLOCKED me over Facebook. Again…what?! Does she think this is going to make the situation better or solve anything? So anyway, I’m giving her a few days to respond, and if she refuses, I’m going to management and I am going to suggest they move her out. I have too much medical stuff to worry about right now to also have to be dealing with this. But maybe she will respond and we’ll get it all sorted out. Fingers crossed.

#feelingelderly

I don’t use Twitter — I think it’s stupid — but I feel like a hashtag is appropriate here for this post.

So it’s been more than a week now since I had my cortisone injections in my hips done. I thought I would feel better, but I’ve been feeling a lot worse. Before, I got pain in my hips (mostly left) after sitting for long periods of time, and some with activity. It was uncomfortable, but not horrible. Now, however, I’m getting a lot more pain in my hips while sitting, including groin pain on my left side. And it’s definitely worse the longer I stand and am active. And it’s interfering with my sleep. Last night was pretty horrible, and I had pain running all down my left leg. Miserable.

I still haven’t received the radiologist report about my hip x-rays, so I called my doctor’s office yesterday. They’re going to mail them to me, and she was able to briefly tell me the results over the phone. Yes, it’s hip impingement. I don’t know how bad, where, or what might be done about it, but hopefully I’ll know more when I get and review the results next week. I’ll probably also take them to my chiropractor for her to look at, since she might be able to help me figure out what the heck they mean. I just feel like, I’m only 22. I shouldn’t be having these problems that most older adults have, not at my age. I’m feeling pretty elderly today.

To make me more miserable health-wise, my mom and I were joking with my dad last night about how every allergy med makes him sleepy, even when they’re non-drowsy and have absolutely nothing in them that would make someone fall asleep. We’ve decided that it’s a psychological thing, and that even if we were to give him a placebo pill and tell him it was an allergy med, he would still fall asleep. For some reason, he thought we were calling him a hypochondriac. He laughed, and was like “I can’t believe that Jane, you of all people, are calling me a hypochondriac.” He said it jokingly, but it still really hurt.

I feel like this is how they think of me — that I’m always thinking I’m sick and looking for new problems for no reason. They just don’t get it. Fibromyalgia is a condition that has literally hundreds of symptoms associated with it, and a ridiculous amount of other diseases and syndromes associated with it as well. I’m always having to pay close attention to what’s going on in my body, and every day my pain is different and my symptoms manifest themselves in new ways. I just never know what it’s going to be like on a day-to-day basis. And it doesn’t help that there’s no actual test for fibro, so it’s all based on ruling out other conditions. All it takes is one single symptom to change my diagnosis to something else, for better or worse. I need to always be on the lookout and alert for any changes in my condition. Having someone say, even jokingly, that I’m a hypochondriac is incredibly hurtful, and makes me doubt myself. It makes me wonder if I am, and if it’s all actually in my head. It makes me feel ashamed and not want to get help for new symptoms and issues, and I know that that could be dangerous. But it doesn’t change that doubt and hesitancy.

I dunno. I was kind of down yesterday, between the pain and the hypochondriac issue. And my jaw has suddenly flared up on my left side again,and has been painful and clicking, which makes it difficult to eat or talk. And the stress of not knowing what could happen with my hip, and the threat of surgery hanging over me. It’s just not what I want to deal with at 22 at the beginning of what might be my last real summer. I wish I could just have a week where I didn’t have to worry about any of this, and could just be a normal 22 year old. Meh. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Oh hai thar

Oh hey guys, it’s been a while. The last few weeks have been insane — finishing classes and doing finals, finalizing my schedule for next year (finally done!) graduating, moving home…I’m pretty much exhausted. Thank goodness I’m done, though! Now to just find a job and work on some art projects this summer! It’s going to be so chill!

Oh wait, that’s not really true. Yes, I’m looking for a job, and yes I have a lot of projects to work on, but, as always, my poor health is rearing its ugly head, this time in a new way.

I went back to my sports med doctor for a follow up on the snapping hip. The good news is that the physical therapy (which I did rather sparingly, shame on me) really cut down on the snapping, clicking, and instability. It barely happens at all now. The bad news is that, even though the popping has stopped, my hip pain has gone up. Which is weird, because I didn’t really have much hip pain before all this, and now I do. Or maybe I just never really paid attention to it, since I’m dealing with pain in various places on a daily basis for year. But whatever the reason, whether it’s worse or I’m noticing it more, I decided I should probably bring it up with my doctor. She was concerned by that, and ordered x-rays. She also poked around my hips and they were SUPER sensitive around the trochanters. I was pretty much jumping and flinching with even the slightest pressure. And so that’s how it was decided that I would get cortisone shots in each hips. Yay me. I’m just glad she wasn’t in on the day my appointment was originally scheduled for, and that we had to move it back two days, because all of this would have made my birthday pretty crappy.

So we did the hip x-rays and she administered the shots (not fun). Afterwards, she went to look at the scans before the radiologist examined them. She told me that it looks like I have hip impingement, which I had never heard of. Basically it means that there’s too much friction in the hip, due to growths on the femoral head or the edge of the socket. It really increases the risk of arthritis and the need for hip replacement later in life (but earlier than average). It’s usually treated with PT, injections, and rest (all of which actually don’t really do anything except pain relief), but surgery (arthroscopy) is often needed. The surgery is minimally invasive, but still requires like six weeks on crutches and about four months to heal fully.

Hip impingement — the two types of growth.

Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Seriously, though. I’m only (barely) 22. I should not be having hip problems at my age. And I really don’t want to have surgery again — my lap wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t fun. And hip surgery would be far, far worse. I mean, I guess I actually would have time, because I’m taking one semester and then I would have January — August for whatever. I was hoping to travel and work before graduate school, but if I absolutely had to have surgery, that would be a good time to do it. It would just be really not fun.

Ugh. Here I was thinking, “Hey, things haven’t been too bad health-wise lately. Fibro’s decently under control, my hip’s not popping anymore, I’m going to work on getting fitter this summer…what could go wrong?” and then bam, the universe was like “No.” How rude.

Still waiting for the radiologist report, though. That should hopefully come in the mail today. I guess I’ll wait and see what it says and then try to figure out what to do. Fingers crossed that my doctor read it wrong and that my hips or normal, or that the impingement is mild and surgery wouldn’t be needed now. Bright side, though: I’m pretty much covered for furniture for my apartment. I’ve got a table, five chairs, and a couch. I just need to touch up the stain on the chairs and redo the seats with new fabric and they should be looking pretty good! I’ll post a DIY post and pictures at some point!

Losing yourself

So I volunteer with a program that goes to nursing homes and does art therapy sessions with elders with dementia. Yesterday night was our big, end-of-the-year art show. As a student leader, I do no have a partner that I meet with every week. Rather, I help lead and facilitate the weekly sessions. Because of this, and the fact that I’ve only been involved for a year, I haven’t known any of the elders over a very long period of time. I seriously love each and every one of them, but I haven’t been around long enough to see the changes that the disease has been forcing on them.

Last night I was helping direct pairs of students and elders, and helping people get in and out of the elevators and find their partners. My nursing home was one of the very last to arrive, and they had to make two trips in the bus to get everyone there. In the second bus, there was a woman who I didn’t have on my list. One of the women from the nursing home told me that her name was Jean, and that she’s been active in the program in previous years, but has gone downhill recently and had to stop coming. Because she wasn’t a regular, she didn’t have a partner. She was the last to come up the elevator to the show, so I offered to sit with her and take her around to see the art.

Jean was really struggling. She spent most of the show half asleep, and the other part of the time she seemed to be in the throes of hallucinations. She would reach out a carefully rearrange things on the table, then act like she was kitting or sewing, or picking things up off the table to set in her lap. She did not talk beyond a few incoherent mumbles and did not respond to my talking to her.

After a brief ceremony where the volunteers and elders were recognized, I took Jean around in her wheelchair to see the art, including a piece of her own. Again, no reacting and continued hallucinations. I kept talking, though, and showed her pieces some of her friends had made. As we were going around, I had a woman come up to me. She was ecstatic to see Jean, and really excited that I was helping her around. She thought I was her partner. I told her that I was actually a leader, and was just filling in. This woman started telling me about Jean. Jean before the disease took its tole.

Jean loved to tell stories. She would sit there during art sessions and talk her partner’s ear off, telling them about her day, about her past and family, about something funny another resident had done, or telling them a story that she had made up on the spot. She had a definite way with words. And her art was amazing. She was very detailed and illustrative, drawing figures rather than abstract shapes. She loved the art sessions, both for the people she got to see and the pieces that she made.

I could hardly believe it. I just couldn’t match up this description with the woman I was pushing around in her wheelchair. It was as if she was describing a completely different person. In a way, I guess she was. Alzheimer’s has taken away the person she was before, and has left this sleepy, unresponsive woman in her place. This was the first time really where the disease had been brought home to me, hearing stories about how she used to be and seeing how she is now. It made me so incredibly sad, especially when I thought of the fact that the person she was is probably almost gone for good. That woman who told stories and drew amazing pictures has disappeared forever. And that’s going to happen to all of my other amazing artists that I love, given enough time.

We finished going through the artwork and went downstairs to wait for the bus. She was still hallucinating, but seemed a bit more alert. She actually opened her eyes to look at me where I was sitting in front of her. She started to talk. I couldn’t understand almost anything she said, but I tried my hardest to respond appropriately and keep talking to her. She seemed happy to just have someone there listening and paying attention to her.

The bus finally came and I took her outside to board it. As the worker backed her until the wheelchair lift, I told her that I was really happy that she had kept me company during the evening, and looked forward to maybe seeing her at the next art session if she was feeling up to it. She looked right up at me and told me that she would like that. She then smiled, shook her head, and told me that I was a beautiful girl. I almost burst into tears right there. Here was a woman who was struggling to retain herself in the face of a devastating disease, and who was clearly losing that fight, and yet when she came back to herself for a brief time she still was incredibly kind and appreciative. Most people would have seen Jean and written her off as a vegetable, not worth their time. But with just a little attention, some kind words, and a listening ear, she returned enough to offer some kind words of her own. She just demonstrates to me that every single person is worth our time and effort, and that even the tiniest things can be regarded the greatest victories.

I was so glad I got to spend time with Jean, and I genuinely look forward to doing so in the future. Hopefully she’ll feel well enough to come to art therapy every now and then!

Is anyone else sweating to death? …No?

Oh my goodness, the weather. So it’s finally nice out. This past weekend was great — 60’s to high 70’s, breezy, clear. In short, amazing. And then the actual week started, with the temperature getting up to around 80. Okay, I would prefer the 70’s, but I’ll take anything over snow…And then the storms came, and with them: humidity.

The humidity. Holy crap. In the past year or two, I’ve thought that I might be more sensitive to humidity than most people, but it’s never been a huge problem. But now my medication has been reduced for my memory, and I’m becoming more aware of all sorts of symptoms. The symptom today is my sensitivity to temperature and humidity. I can tell you how humid it is before setting a foot outside. I will lay in bed all night sweating to death if the temperature is higher than about 65 and there’s any sort of humidity. I’m dreading this summer. I don’t know why I’m looking at schools out west — I would never survive it.

It’s really frustrating because my roommate just doesn’t get it. I talk about how miserable I was all night and she’s like “It was perfectly fine in here last night.” Well, for you it was. You don’t have a disorder that’s wreaking havoc on your body all the time. For someone like me with fibromyalgia, a single degree in temperature can be the difference between being comfortable and being miserable. A tiny bit of humidity can make trying to sleep a hell. (In general, I think my roommate might also just be very insensitive to a lot of different things — sounds, smells, temperature, sight etc. I’ll hear things that she never notices, and I’ll smell things she never will. Or, it could be that I’m way more sensitive to stuff like that because of the fibro. Or it could be both. It’s probably both. We’ve also been a bit rocky this week because she likes to be very neat, and I’m not so neat when there are a lot of things going on and I’m stressed out. I came back from class the other day with all of the stuff I had in the living room piled on the floor outside my door, even though it wasn’t that much, but it included my laptop and camera. I was pissed. I understand she likes to be neat, and I try to respect that, but she also needs to try to understand that I’m not a neat freak. The way for her to deal with needing things clean is to just ask me to put things away, not pile it up. It’s not like I would ignore her — I would do it because I would know it was bothering her. And I was about to clean that stuff up anyway because my parents are coming tomorrow. She just couldn’t wait. Ugh. Anyway, back to humidity…).

I really hate when I bring up an issue like this and get an incredulous, unbelieving look from her and others. They just don’t get it. Just because they’re unaffected by something, they can’t understand that for others that same something might be a huge issue. This has been a problem between my roommate and I for a while. She tends to time her laundry poorly, so she’ll be running the washer and dryer past midnight some nights. It doesn’t bother her at all. For me, it’s torture. I can’t sleep because of the sound of it. She just doesn’t get it, even when I explain it to her, and she still does it even though she knows it bothers me. Same with smells. There have been times where she’s made the most rancid-smelling salmon. I’m pretty much vomiting from the fishy smell, and she doesn’t smell anything at all. I’ve tried to ask her not to make such smelly things, but she just doesn’t understand. She can’t smell it, so she thinks I’m just throwing a fit over nothing.

Blah. I just need to live by myself. I’m at that point. I love my roommate to death, but especially with all of these unique fibro symptoms, it would be a lot easier if I just lived on my own and dealt with them on my own. That way I’m not inconveniencing anyone, and I can take care of myself. Just a few more weeks until graduation, then I get my own apartment in the fall! Thank goodness!

Blah, stress

I guess I haven’t written in a while. It’s been a super stressful week or two. The biggest source of stress: scheduling.

So I’m staying one semester past graduation to finish some art credits for art therapy graduate school requirements. My first hurdle was getting a time ticket to register, since the registration office had it down that I was graduation and that was that. That process took a week, but I finally got my ticket and the all-clear to schedule for another semester.

Next: figuring out what classes to take. That took a week or so. I kept creating a potential schedule, but then would remember something that I had to leave time open for, or some reason I couldn’t take a class. But I finally got it, and with time open to continue doing my volunteering. Check.

Then I had to figure out how to register for them, as I did not have the basic art pre-requirements for any of the courses. I got into the drawing class I’m in currently by permission of instructor after submitting a portfolio. I thought that’s what I would have to do again. I spent a week and a half trying to get the art department to respond to my e-mails and get me the answers I needed. I literally went down to the department office seven times to try to talk to the secretary to figure out what to do, and she was never here. 10:30? “Oh, she left for lunch.” 12:30? “Oh, she’s not back from lunch yet.” 3:00? “She went home early.” 8:00 am? “She’s not in yet.” 1:30? “She’s in a meeting.” This went on for a week, then finally someone told me to go to another guy who’s an adviser for the art department. Went to him and he told me that I needed to fill out force-add forms. Force-add forms? I didn’t have to do that last time…

So I went and got the forms and filled them out, including all the reasons I had to take the classes and why other class sections wouldn’t work. Turned them in and the secretary (who was actually there as soon as I had gotten an answer!) and she told me she would e-mail me with the decisions on whether or not I got into the courses within a week or two. That was last Friday. Went in on Thursday to check and see what the status was on the decisions, because I’m really anxious about getting into the courses I need. They’re not making decisions until APRIL 22ND, after everyone has already scheduled. So not a week or so — three weeks. I seriously almost burst into tears when she told me that.

Here’s the deal: I need these classes now, so that I can apply to graduate school on time. And I need all fifteen of those hours, or I’m behind. And I’ve already signed a lease to live in an apartment off campus for the next semester. So I’m here, no matter what. When I was first trying to figure out if I could stay another semester, the advising office made it sound like it would be easy and no big deal. If I had known that I would get this much push-back from the art department, and have this many difficulties trying to register and get into courses, I would have said “Screw it” and taken courses at a university close to home.

Blah. So I have to wait two more weeks to find out if I’ve gotten into those courses. The stress continues. At least my work load has decreased a bit — last week was my hell week, with presentations, research paper drafts due, and exams. Thank goodness all that’s done ^^ And yesterday my roommate and I took a roadtrip to the Cincinnati Museum Center to see the museums and the Dead Sea Scrolls. The museums were cool (especially the Children’s Museum! It made me wish I were still a kid!), and we went to Newport to get dinner before our time slot for the Dead Sea Scrolls. The scrolls were a huge disappointment, though. The exhibit wasn’t set up well, and there was no regulation for flow through it. We were in there for an hour and a half and we barely saw anything. We did see the actual scroll, so I guess mission accomplished, but I would have liked to see more. Oh well, everything else was fun ^^

Hopefully I’ll find out about my schedule soon and my stress level will greatly diminish! After that I should be cruising to graduation!

Equality for All

Okay. Recent events have made me want to tackle DOMA and Prop 8 in a post. I’m frustrated, and need to vent.

Last night a friend made a post about gay marriage. All day, my Facebook friends had been changing their profile pictures to the red and pink equal sign, in solidarity with those seeking equal rights for the gay community. Even many of those who didn’t change their picture were still posting other images in support of repealing Prop 8 and DOMA. It was really moving to see all of the support, and how the community was coming together to voice their want for change and equality. And then my friend posted.

The equal rights symbol everyone was posting.

Now, a bit of background on her. She’s always been the most religious out of my friends, but usually fairly quiet about it. But then she went to university (the same school as me) and joined a gospel group on campus. Since then, she’s become much more outspoken about and extreme in her views. She’s progressing religiously, but regressing on social issues and in the area of acceptance of others. She’s had posts claiming that others aren’t “true” Christian because their beliefs differ from hers (see Rant Time for that venting session). She’s been openly unaccepting of other belief systems, scoffing at them and just being generally belligerent. And her new friends from the gospel group are supporting and egging her on in this. I’m happy that she’s happy with her new friends, but I’m saddened to see how she’s changed over the past few years.

So, the post. She went on a mini rant about how she “might lose a lot of friends for this,” but she did not support gay marriage. She called marriage sacred, and claimed that it was only acceptable when it went through Jesus Christ, and that it is in fact not a civil right. She even claimed that we need to implement restrictive laws for marriage among straight people because they aren’t “doing it right” (or at least, that’s what I got out of her message). She ended with: “Am I projecting my faith and beliefs on you by saying no? I sure am. But so are you by saying yes. I am exercising my rights just as you are.” She also claimed that she was not brainwashed for her views.

I was pretty shocked by her post. Not because I didn’t think anyone believed the way she does, but because I couldn’t believe she believed it. In high school she was never against gay marriage — she was more of the camp of “I don’t really like it, it goes against what I believe, but if it makes you happy feel free.” She had gay friends, and she was sympathetic to their cause. She was always accepting of everyone. I’ve watched her views transformed from that over the years, to this adamant anti-equal rights mindset (and of course, this mindset overflows to other areas, such as with those of other religions and beliefs).

Immediately after she published her post, I got a text from one of my friends. She was also shocked. I think it was a bigger blow for her because she hasn’t really seen this transformation happened the past few years. She basically just saw the beginning and the end, with no middle morphing to warn her of her changing views. She was really upset, and wanted to comment on our friend’s post basically saying “Separation of church and state.”  I convinced her not to, as I didn’t think it would be productive, and would just cause problems.

This morning, I got another text from my best friend (as I knew I would — I was just surprised that it took her so long). She told me that she was saddened by our friend’s post, and I had to agree with her. That’s exactly how I felt, too — frustrated and disappointed, but mostly sad. “I just don’t understand how anyone can genuinely believe that allowing everyone to get married imposes my views on anyone else,” my BFF wrote, “No one’s forcing [our friend] to get marry a lesbian.”

As usual, she had pretty much summed up exactly what I was thinking (we have like a psychic connection or something — we pretty much have the exact same views, and agree on pretty much everything. We’re kind of the same person, and it’s kind of awesome). Here’s what really frustrates me. Your religious values are your religious values. Just because you believe something doesn’t mean that everyone else has to, too. When you try to make something illegal because of your personal religious beliefs, you are infringing on the rights of others, and shoving your beliefs down their throat. Making gay marriage illegal is not shoving our views down your throat. If we were trying to pass a law that forced everyone to engage in gay marriage, that would be shoving our beliefs down our throat. The middle ground here (as with many other social issues, such as abortion) is to let everyone do as they wish, not as you personally believe that they should. If you are offended by gay marriage and the gay lifestyle, you yourself are insecure in your own beliefs. Get over yourself — not everyone has to follow your personal, restrictive values. And your religion does not belong in our laws.

In addition, marriage is a civil rights issue. Marriage is a religious institution, but it is also a government and federal institution. The government is extending and restricting rights to some, based on these individual preferences. For me, I always have a rule: when someone’s talking about how “Gays shouldn’t be able to get married because it goes against my beliefs,” I always substitute another word for “gays.” That word can be “black,” “Jewish,” etc — any group that’s been repressed throughout history. So go ahead and insert it: “Blacks shouldn’t be able to get married because it goes against my beliefs.” See how ignorant you look? See how you are wrongly restricting someone’s rights? Why should sexual orientation be any different from skin color or religion? Sexual orientation, like race, is not a choice — why restrict rights because of something a person cannot control? Hell, why restrict them for something they can control? Your beliefs are your beliefs, not necessarily anyone else’s.

Sums it up perfectly.

I am 100% behind equal rights for gays. I have many gay friends who would love to be able to marry their partners. And not just enter a “civil union” — marry. Why call it something else? We’ve tried “separate but equal” before, and it didn’t work. I think our culture is slowly coming around it equality, and doing away with hate and prejudice, but we still have a long way to go. There have been baby steps so far, but repealing Prop 8 and DOMA wold be a massive leap. Once the laws change, attitudes follow. Don’t like it? No one is forcing you to marry someone of your same gender. Your beliefs are not universal, and you have no right to impose them on others through law. Get over yourself and stop worrying about others. Be happy and secure in your views, without feeling the need to force everyone else share them top.

Not really sure how to approach my friend. I’m thinking that I just won’t approach her at all. It’s not worth losing a friendship over. I think that we’re already drifting apart, but I don’t want to end it definitively. She knows that all of us will disagree with her, and she chose to put it out there. Whatever happens, happens, I guess. I’m just glad that I have other friends who are accepting of all people, regardless of what they believe and who they love.