FAQ: Are You Okay? Why Are You Crying?

This frequently asked question is something I hear a lot. Like A LOT! I figured I would make a post on it and get it all off my chest for today.

Are you okay?

I will be fine. I am tough. I have been through a lot in my life. If I can survive that, I can survive anything. I always have good days. Just some of those days have moments.

I was going to put a meme here. But they are all so depressing! Holy crap! The quotes for this one are morbid.

Why are you crying?

Because I need to. It’s how I stay strong.

Because I am thinking about my hopeless future. Not trying to sound like Dotchi Downer… but I am being honest here. My future plans are bleak. I am planning on becoming homeless and living in my van. I am actually quite excited about this. Every one else, not so much.

Everyone else wants me to think positive and plan on living in a house or a mobile home or something… riiiiiight, cuz money grows on trees, guys! I kind of need to have a steady income to plan for a future doesn’t include me living in a van.

poor meme   Google Search

I mean, I can plan to live in a house all I want. As soon as I don’t have an income and can’t pay rent/mortgage, I will be evicted and will be homeless. Instead of going through all that, I will happily plan to live in my van.

I cry because I just need to feel it for a moment and get it out of my system so I can keep going every day. I mean, I can only pretend that everything is fine for so long.

I cry because I am in pain. Not just sometimes. All the time. Every minute of every day. It doesn’t go away. Ever. While I can hold back the tears most of the time, there are days when the pain is a little too much to handle any more.

pain meme funny   Google Search

I can’t live my life always high. I need to have hours each day where I can function normally and get things done. But I pay for it in severe pain. Even crocheting sends me into tears.

pain advice meme   Google Search

I have heard it all too.

“Exercise will help.” I can do light exercise. Beyond that, I would just hurt myself to the point I can’t move for days without bursting into tears from the pain.

“You should move to somewhere you can get a job.” I have applied for jobs all over the place for the last four years. Every week I search for jobs I can do. I send out applications. I send out resumes. Moving is not going to help me get a job when no one will hire me.

ND hahaha

“You should do something from home.” I am trying that. But I am finding that any crafts I make at home, I cannot sell for a price that will help me pay the bills. Here is an example: On a GOOD week, I can make four bags a week. In person, no one wants to pay over $25.

That’s $100 a week, IF I could continue making that many a week, I never had bad weeks, and I am able to sell every single bag I make. That covers rent. What am I supposed to do for electric? Internet (to sell some online for a little more)? And every medical bill that I simply can’t pay?

“You should apply for disability.” Been there. Done that. Have you actually tried that? No wonder so many people are homeless with disabilities. I paid into the system for years and I get NOTHING!

There are plenty of people I know who need it and do get it. But I also know people who cannot work and can’t get it. I have watched people become homeless in the process… which is where I am heading… because it’s impossible to get disability. And don’t get me started on the judge in my case!

And every other comment I keep hearing doesn’t really help either. You know what helps? Chocolate. And coffee. Or Chocolate coffee. I could live off those. Or, you know, hire me!

In case you want to hire me, here is what I can do/ cannot do:

This is not the complete list. I have to end the post eventually.

  • I can lift between 8 and 10 pounds… on a good day. Sometimes I can lift 12 pounds. It just depends on how many days I have to recover.
  • I can stand for about 30 minutes. Sometimes. Not always. But I am cool with bar stools also. And I have Lidoderm patches that help.
  • I can sit upright for about 20-30 minutes. Most of the time. Then I have to lay down for a while to calm the pain.
  • I can type. I don’t know my typing speed but most everyone I know is impressed with it. So it’s probably faster than normal.
  • I love blogging! I would blog more but I have been focusing on making things to sell and practicing other computer skills that might help me.
  • I love making memes! I use them because they make me smile and it’s easier than walking around looking for a good picture or searching through the billions of pictures I have on my computer for the right one.
  • I love photography! My camera is dying a slow death so I haven’t been taking a lot of pictures lately. But I LOVE photos!
  • I can crop, re-size, airbrush, and do other edits to photos. I am still learning some of the cooler things.

I can’t really do much most days. If I crochet, I can’t do anything else or it’s just too much.

job hunt meme   Google Search

I am better at computer work than I am at anything else if I have to be quite honest.

If you don’t hire me…

If you can’t hire me, that’s okay… I wouldn’t hire me for most jobs either. BUT, if you do hire me, I am going to throw myself into the work and do it as well as I can and try to do the best I can!

But if you aren’t going to hire me… Don’t tell me how to live my life either. I don’t need antidepressants. That’s just another bill I can’t afford. I don’t need to move because I already applied elsewhere. No one is hiring me.

If you aren’t going to hire me, please tell me so I can cry and move on to something else. Making me wait and figure it out myself is a waste of my time.

waste my time quotes   Google Search

If I am crying, I am firmly planted in reality that day. Sometimes I just need to face the cold, harsh reality of shitty life so I can go back to hoping and searching for a way to survive. Sometimes I just need to feel the pain so I can be optimistic again.

I am allowed to cry without being shot in the ass with a tranquilizer dart. Their called emotions. They are totally normal. I don’t need people telling me what to do, I need coffee, a bag of chocolate, a date with Netflix, and a good cry. It gives me a mental vacation. Sometimes, that is all I really need.

Some days, I need to relieve the emotional pain so I can live every day with the physical pain and still force myself to smile. You can add that to my list of talents.

fake a smile quotes   Google Search




Identity Theft

As if I needed more stress in my life…

My lawyer for disability called me to talk to me about my disability hearing. At this point, I am just trying to prepare myself for another denial because I can’t even get my hopes off the ground. I am seriously getting depressed from the Cabinet Peaks Debacle and no income. I actually started crying more and more. I just can’t help it. And pills won’t help because pills don’t pay my bills or give me a future. I can’t even afford pills! Because I have no money!

Yup Im Poor T_T by hakunamatata   Meme Center

SO, when she called, I was expecting a chat about my conditions, or my hearing, or something. We did get started on that. But before that, she asked about my $7000 income from 2013/2014 from Playa Builders Inc in Culver City, CA. I drew a blank because I didn’t have income in 2013/2014 and I’ve never worked at/for/with Playa Builders Inc. She then looked a little more and she said that it was different name, not mine. Mike Segura. I don’t know anyone named Mike Segura.

Now I get to spend the next weekend having an anxiety attack and filling out reports and going to the police station because… meh, like I have anything better to do!

This year has had it ups… not many of them… but damn are the downs getting obnoxious! Can I have something NICE happen now? Like, I dunno… can I meet a nice boyfriend/girlfriend or something or win the lottery? I am very good with finances! I can stretch that winnings out to the rest of my life and donate to charity too!

WHY? Why me? 

Britney bad year

I fucking hate Cabinet Peaks Medical Center

Okay, so I was poking around the patient portal from our hospital when I noticed a current condition that I didn’t know I have. Somatoform Disorder. I research it and find out it is a mental illness where your psychological problems cause physical symptoms. They are totally real though. I look up the symptoms and criteria and you have to have ALL of these to meet the criteria.

– You have a long history of symptoms that start before the age of 30. (Mmmmm, had health issues but nothing horrendous and everything was linked to something. Then I hit 33 and WOAH! But still all linked to something.)

– You have 4 (male) or 6 (female) symptoms that cannot be explained by another general medical condition. (Right now, I can think of one. Just one. Wait, maybe 2 but that is probably a Fibromyalgia thing)

– One sexual or reproductive issue besides pain. (None. I cant think of any sexual issue that I have. Unless they are counting the hysterectomy.)

– One pseudo-neurological symptom. (Uhm, no to this too. Can’t think of anything.)

– After appropriate investigation, a known general medical condition or direct effects of a substance cannot explain the multiple symptoms. OR When a related medical condition is present, the physical complaints are in excess of what would be expected. (So I was thinking maybe the second part? Because all but one symptom… maybe 2?… is linked to a medical condition.)

So… I am thinking, geez this really doesn’t sound like me. Maybe this is a mistake. But being a big girl, I decided to ask my psychologist just to make sure. I told her what I found and where I found it and asked if I have somatoform disorder. If I do, I want to meet it head on and deal with it. Not that I would be thrilled to have a mental illness, but it is treatable. She said no. In the 2 and a half to 3 years she has been seeing me, she never suspected any form of somatoform disorder. (Mine was 300.82 for the code). We discussed and figured it was a mistype. An oops. No biggy. We would get it taken off.

To start, I called the hospital and explained that I was never diagnosed with this and I either wanted it off my chart or I wanted to know where it came from. I get a call the next day. It linked back from my ER visit from hell. Actually, they said that it was in my chart from Dr N* (ER doc, worthless doc really – the one I filed a complaint against) on 24 March this year and states “present on admission MB”. It was also on my chart from MB (concussion doc) on 4 April this year. And in my chart from Dr K* (my neurologist for seizures) on whatever day I say her.

I was thinking WTH? 1) Why did no one tell me of this diagnosis? That is unethical. 2) My ER visit from hell is just getting worse and the ER doc is OBVIOUSLY retaliating against me. (I know it sounds paranoid)

So I start pulling records. I find it in Dr K notes. She mentions that it is in my rehab notes (form MB). She now states that I don’t have seizures from epilepsy because of this new development. So we went from “You have seizures. I used your details and the EEG to get this diagnosis” to “We need to test further.” What?

I look at MB notes and find the diagnosis but no mention of how he got to it or where it came from. He talks about how I deliberately messed up on my SCAT testing too. I cried a little. I was trying so hard. I thought I was improving. I could just cry. Anywhoodles, so I call J* at the office and she asks him where he got that from and he said old records. What old records?

So I go back to CPMC and ask to pull anything they have from March 24 (since that is where it links to). They have nothing. I wasn’t seen there on the 24th. But they did have something from 22 and 23. So I take them. Then it dawns on me, I wasn’t in the ER on the 24th, or the hospital, nor did I have an appointment in that hospital. I had an appointment with my psychologist so I wasn’t even down in that area. And I am still trying to figure out when MB was “present on admission” because when I was actually seen, it was late at night in L-town and he wasn’t here. Only Dr N, who doesn’t know how to treat seizures.

This week I am going to figure out what they are seeing from March 24th. I have a case manager on this too. No one can figure out where it came from. It’s now in my records at NWCHC but is noted that it came from MB.

I tell you what. They are begging for a lawsuit. In the least, someone is getting the state called on them. I am so livid. How do doctors get away with this?

At least now I understand why my care took a weird turn after that ER visit. The doctors were rude, snide, short, and dismissed anything I said. And then when I went to the GI doc, he was just … bizarre. At least with pulling all my records, I can clearly see that they OBVIOUSLY do not listen to me. Half the stuff they put down is wrong. Like saying such and such happened when I was pregnant 15 years ago. My youngest son is almost 17. I wasn’t pregnant 15 years old.

All this links back to a trip to the ER at Cabinet Peaks Medical Center. I tell you what, if you don’t want a doctor to retaliate against you, avoid this place at all costs. Cabinet Peaks, if you are reading this, fix your shit.

GAWD! I need new doctors! At least my regular doctor and my psychologist are good.

Neurologist Appointment and Medical Marijuana

Not looking forward to the next week and a half. Went to my neurologist yesterday. I am not really impressed this time. Never had a doctor roll her eyes at my son while he was talking to her. And she seemed short and rude with us. Just Cabinet Peaks bullshit trickling down to my other doctors? Or maybe she had a bad day?

I mentioned not wanting to be on man-made medications because they cause me so many negative side effects. She got real snotty and said “Everything has side effects, even herbs.” When I explained that I don’t have side effects to herbs though, she shot back “But everything has side effects. You can look up side effects of marijuana and get a list of side effects.” She was a real bitch.

Let’s see… Here is a review of the meds.

I was always so nauseous from the pain that I had to take Zofran. I couldn’t eat because I hurt so bad and nauseousness was too much that I had no appetite. The doc gave me Zofran for 3 times a day but medicaid will only pay for 15 pills. I couldn’t get the rest filled. So I got to pick which meal I wanted to eat every other day. And I could only eat a little bit or I would throw up.

Cyclobenzaprine: On it because my muscles were always so tense that I hurt like crazy. I walked like a 70 year old. The joints in my body did not want to bend correctly (hence, the walker) and my muscles BURNED like they were on fire ALL. THE. TIME. Cyclobenzaprine made me sleep. I thought it helped loosen my muscles and I slept so much on it that I felt like I got sleep. I was on this so long it stopped doing anything except making me sleep.

Clonidine (for anxiety): I slept. A LOT. I also had diarrhea of the mouth. If a thought popped into my head, it fell out my mouth. I turned into a bitch too. I would be fine one minute and then just snap at everyone the next minute (and again, I am SO SORRY). I felt drugged. My heart would race randomly and flutter toward the end. I still have palpitations sometimes.

Gabapentin: While it helped take the edge off the pain, still could not do anything. Made me sleep 2/3 of the time every day. Literally, I slept most of my days away. And I was still like I was before: I could not bend over to pick anything up. I could not cook. I had trouble dressing myself. I had trouble showering. I could not walk to the store or go anywhere without that damned walker unless I planned it right. And by that I mean, do not do anything at all the day before or that day. And that only worked if I wasn’t walking there. Can we say weight gain!? I am still trying to lose the weight. I gained 50 pounds! I can’t fit into my clothes anymore. When they increased the dose, I would take a dose, sleep until the next dose, take that dose, sleep until the next dose, etc. So they lowered it back down and tried other meds with it.

Then they added Keppra for me to try. I was apathetic. I did not care. I would have been suicidal but my give-a-damn had busted. If a truck ran me over, I just didn’t care. I didn’t want to throw myself in front of one though because that took effort. I just sat in my chair not caring. It very much reminded me of Wellbutrin. Nothing made me happy. There was no joy, no happiness, no love. I felt nothing. Just a huge gaping void in my chest where my heart used to be. I cared so little that I could not make myself call the doctor to let them know something was wrong. I did have a moment of clarity and vowed not to take it but it still took me a week to call the doctor because I still did not care.

Then they tried Lamictal. I asked about the “Lamictal rash” and everyone assured me that it was so rare that I did not have to worry about it. By day 3 (I think) my skin hurt so bad I could not be touched. It felt like I had a massive sunburn. I had a pretty rash and little itty bitty blisters across my back and mentally I was a wreck from the pain. It hurt so bad I wanted to die. (figuratively, but not suicidal)

Then they put me on Topamax, which my friends online lovingly called Dopamax. Hahaha. Wow! That was one bad acid trip. I locked myself in my apartment an could not make myself leave. I became paranoid and thought that everyone was cohorting against me. I felt like Alice in Wonderland. Things that were across the room looked like they were a mile away and anything with in arms reach looked like it was 2 inches from my face. At times I felt like my whole body filled my living room and I was HUGE and other times I felt like I was a tiny little kid sitting in a gigantic chamber. I got obsessed with doing everything in a certain way. I couldn’t turn off a light without a ritual that went with it. And I was terrified to call the doctor because I thought they would think I wasn’t trying. I look back now and I am horrified at how I was.

Enter medical marijuana (MMJ).

No more clonidine. I don’t need it. MMJ helps my anxiety just fine. Actually better than clonidine did.

No more Zofran. MMJ helps my nauseousness. It also helps my appetite so I am eating more than I did before.

No more Cyclobenzaprine. My muscles relaxed. They didn’t loosen, they relaxed. They aren’t tense anymore. I can bend again! I can touch the floor!

No more Gabapentin. MMJ helps with the pain. I do not need to keep taking something that just takes the edge off the pain because MMJ helps totally with the pain. No more searing joint pain, no more electric shock feeling running through my legs, no more extreme ripping pains in my back. It took my pain and made it almost gone. I’ll take a level 2 pain over level 7 pain pain ANY DAY!

I can move again. I can walk without my walker all the time. Not just when I am not dying in pain. I can stand up for a little bit. I can clean house for about 30 minutes at a time. I still can not lift a lot but I can still stand and clean! I can cook a small meal again! I am independent again!

Other good side effects:

My angioedema attacks are fewer. My allergies are calmer.

My joints don’t kill me. I still feel like my bones are grinding together in my lower back but the pain is so much less that it barely bothers me.

AND, something I do not talk about a lot, I can feel my crotch again. No more accidentally peeing myself because I can’t tell when I have to pee until it’s too late (as in, as it comes out). I can tell when I have to pee WAY before it’s critical. I stopped retaining urine. No catheters in FIVE MONTHS!

I can walk to the store and back WITHOUT planning and WITHOUT a walker. I am walking like a 39 year old again.

I feel happy again. I have joy and purpose in my life again. I got a sewing machine from my ex (Thank you Mendel) so I can make clothes and bags to sell. I spent the last week or so relearning the sewing machine, practicing stitches, and refreshing all my skills. I still have to sit down while working, but I CAN DO IT! I couldn’t do this before.

I don’t feel like I am going to freak out and cry on a daily basis. People come around again. And for the first time in YEARS, I actually WANT to go out and do things. I WANT to be around people again. You have no idea how great that feels.

For the first time in a long time, I WANT to listen to music. Noise doesn’t make me hurt. It’s not too much stimulation for me.

It also has helped my seizures. I went from having them all the time to maybe 2 or 3 a week. I’ll take that!

I sleep about 8 hours a day now instead of 16-24 hours a day. Except for the occasional sleep attack which lasts a couple days now instead of weeks to a month.

I am a completely different person now.

Okay, I know you are wondering…. The negative side effects:

I get a bout of “the stupids” from time to time. Usually right after taking it. I have trouble following a conversation. I found that if I take ibuprofen with my dose, it helps block this effect. Finally, a use for ibuprofen where it works!

Yep, that is it. That’s the only negative side effect. Done with that list.

Back to the neurologist:

I am considering finding a new neurologist because she didn’t want to listen to me when I told her I don’t have side effects to MMJ. She also looked up Trileptal because Miles and I both said we were still confused as to why I needed it when MMJ was working. She looked and the other one said it was for my “headaches”. Funny, because he said I needed it since I was not on anything for seizures. O.o

But for now she took me off medical marijuana for a long term EEG (check in at noon, leave at 5 pm) which happens on the 28th.

Yesterday would have been a take day (since I take it every other day) but I skipped it since I saw the doctor before my take time.

Today, I woke up hurting and with a mild angioedema attack.

My waist down to the soles of my feet are feeling numb-ish again. I barely made it to the bathroom earlier. When I sit in on position for about 5 minutes, my legs start going numb. I can’t really feel my feet.

My joints are killing me. My muscles feel like I lifted 300 pound weights and keep tensing up. So I won’t be doing anything until after the 28th. The boys went and got my walker out of storage.

I can’t straighten my back again. I started shaking from the pain. I am almost in tears from the pain. How the hell did I do it before?

My chest hurts again. I feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest. I feel like I am on the verge of panicking and screaming, partly from the pain.

I feel like my bones are breaking. I have sharp shooting pains from my joints. I don’t even want to move.

It already hurts too bad to cook anything again and my steamer died so I am at the mercy of my kids cooking (which is tasty cooking but I hate asking them to make food). I have no appetite today and I am so nauseous I could puke so I am guessing this won’t be a huge issue. Back to barely eating.

This better be worth it. And hopefully the Neuro-doc will act more like the first two times I saw her because I was horribly unimpressed this appointment. We will see how this goes.

Overall pain level lately: 2-4 depending on the day.

Overall pain level today: FUCKING SEVEN!

You know what pisses me off?

Hunger. And thirst. And having to choose… Do I want to drink a little more today than I did yesterday and then still be hungry? Or do I want to eat something and know I won’t be able to drink the rest of the day?

You know what else pisses me off? Dehydration. And the feeling that if you could stand next to a lake, you would want to drink the whole thing, if you could. And hunger… although the gnawing pain of hunger is slowly starting to not bother me anymore. But the slow and steady dehydration is annoying me to no end.

You know what else pisses me off? Stupid doctors. Not the kind of doctor that makes an honest mistake but is really trying. But the doctor that just doesn’t seem to care.

That is what I have dealt with. I went to the Emergency Room last night because I couldn’t swallow anything anymore. Let me back up and explain something.

When I first burned my esophagus, I could get fluids down my throat. Not as much as before I burned it. I would drink whatever my body weight divided in half. So I weighed 203 pounds. I was drinking 120 ounces of fluid a day. I’m dyslexic… I also like to drink stuff.

After burning my esophagus, I was able to drink 80 ounces but couldn’t eat. I was okay with this, although I really wanted to drink more. Later, I was down to 70 ounces, then 60 ounces. Now, 1 week and 5 days later (or is it 4 days?) I am so thirsty I wish I could drink. The last few days I have been able to drink (in order of days) 30 ounces, 24 ounces, 28 ounces, 20 ounces. I am so thirsty and hungry right now!

Back to yesterday. I was so hungry that I figured I would find the slickest food and eat something. I made hard-boiled eggs because they were the slickest food I had at the moment. I managed to eat a few of those. After that, I swallowed a few sips of blueberry pom juice. And then, I couldn’t swallow anymore. I was taking teaspoon sized sips of water and juice. It got to where my mouth started to feel like cotton. I started taking a sip and just holding it in my mouth because my mouth was so dry it hurt.

I debated on going to the hospital. Since I can’t take my anti-anxiety medication (because I can’t swallow pills) I couldn’t get myself to go. I finally decided to go and go brave enough to actually leave the house. I figured, if nothing else, they would do the skin pinch test and give me a bag of fluids. Right? WRONG!

I went in and explained to the nurse what was wrong. The doctor came in and said there really isn’t much he can do for me. He did give me a GI cocktail. I choked it down. Literally. I choked and gagged on it. It felt like I was swallowing rocks… but at least I was swallowing, right. I waited for it to set in like they did the time before. I figured they would bring something in when it was time to drink, like the last time.

The doctor came in and asked if I drank anything and I said no. He asked why not. Seriously? I told him there was nothing to drink and figured they would bring something when they wanted me to drink. The asshole actually scolded me for not asking for a drink!

The nurse brought in some ice-cold water. And by ice-cold, I mean “felt like razor bladed rolling down my esophagus”. I took one sip. It felt like it sat at the top of my throat for a second and then SLOWLY slid down my esophagus. The doctor asked me to take another drink. I took another sip with the same results. He asked me to take another drink. I did, with the same results. And then they released me with the instructions to drink water. You couldn’t even tell I drank anything from the bottle, that’s how little I managed to swallow. No IV fluids. He said I didn’t LOOK dehydrated. No pinch test. That’s the first thing the Navy doctors always did if you said “I feel dehydrated”. Then they’d run blood work and give you fluids until they were happy with your hydration level.

Here, at Cabinet Peaks Medical Center, I’ll have to be close to death and they probably still won’t do shit for me.

I went home, thirsty as hell, and fell asleep. I woke up this morning thirsty as hell. I’ve managed to force 16 ounces of juice down my throat. It’s starting to close again so I know I will have a few more ounces before I can’t drink anymore. I am hoping to hit 24 ounces before I can’t take anything else.

I try to always be positive, smile through everything, joke and laugh… but this time, I am over the happiness part. I am miserably thirsty. I peed once today about 5 hours ago and I have no need to go for now… or anytime soon. I can pinch the skin on the back of my hand and it slowly goes down but stops while there is still a peak. Out of boredom, I made a mountain ridge across my hand this morning just to see if I could. I can.

But what pisses me off the most is the fact that I know if I need medical care, I am not going to get even the basic care here. And that worries me. Especially now.

They shouldn’t have built a new hospital. They should have built more helicopter pads and just flown people out of here to a hospital that cares just a little bit.

I’ll be a Youtuber!

I know this isn’t logical, I really do, but I decided to do what I always wanted to do… well, at least since YouTube has been around, and make YouTube videos to journal/vlog. I mean, I know I won’t get paid, but who cares… I want to try to do something fun. My therapist wants me to explore my worth, explore what I deserve… mmm, okay. So, I figured I would do that through video blogging. I mean, I will still be writing down my thoughts too, I’m not leaving the blogging world, I just want something fun to do, something to look forward to.

I did one test on my camera LOL, I was a bit too close. But if this works, you’ll be able to see the video. Warning: I have ADD and tend to change sentence/ subject mid-thought!

This way, I can update all my blogs in a fun way, still get beading done in the “real life” instead of spending too much time writing… at least in my head that is how it’s working… and I will be happy to get to explore the vlogging world a little.

I do have anxiety about this though. I have a lot of anxiety. 1) I don’t like the fact that I am missing a lot of my teeth (not my fault) 2)… no, that’s about it. Well, not really, I also have anxiety about people looking at me. I know, it’s a not a healthy thing to obsess over… that’s one of reasons I am in therapy. It makes me all nervous and anxiety ridden to think that someone, somewhere, that I don’t know LOOKED at me. Massive anxiety attack right there. I like to walk around imagining I am in an invisibility bubble. No really, that’s how I cope.

Like I said, I know that’s not healthy… but, then too, I am in therapy, okay?

I figure, if I do this, it will help with anxiety and being a hermit/shut-in, and I can have fun with it too. I’m going to practice editing a video today to cut out all the rambling bits that I tend to do when I am talking. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Real Quick though… I am trying to do an “introduction video” about myself. My friend, Jane, suggested I could do a bunch of questions people ask. I have a list of 11 questions so far. I will reorder them before I do the video.

  1. How many kids do you have?
  2. Why are you vlogging?
  3. What do you hope to gain by doing this?
  4. What are your fears about doing these videos online?
  5. Do you still not smoke? Like, show everyone your necklace!
  6. Do you drink?
  7. What is your favorite drink?
  8. What is your favorite thing to do? (I think he meant “hobbies”)
  9. Do you crochet or knit?
  10. Do you like to read? You should do a thingy where you share what book you are reading and how you like it and what’s happening so far in the book and stuff like that. (OH! I like this idea!)
  11. You should talk about your allergies on your blog. Tell people what it’s like to live with that many allergies. (okay)

So, if you could add to the list, what would you ask? What would you want to see in an introduction video about me?

I am so Irritable!

I am not sure what is wrong with me but, I am really agitated the last few days. Everything is making me angry and it’s little stupid things too. It’s not just the big stuff. Yesterday I made a batch of brownies. I REALLY wanted some brownies! I miss my homemade brownies that I made when I lived in Tennessee. Those are made with wheat flour though. So I have tried new recipes now and then to find one that is just as good as mine.

Testing… and failure!

The batch came out of the oven and looked like melted chocolate lava. It was bubbly and liquid like with a crunchy island crust on the top. I waited about 2.4 seconds before trying it anyway. I blew on it. I ate a bite. Then I spit it out. It tasted horrible! I wanted GOOD brownies. These tasted just like box brownies (which I hate the taste of). So… everyone else loved them. But, I was so disappointed I could have cried. I wanted delicious, ooey gooey goodness filled brownies that melt in your mouth and make ice cream on top, covered in chocolate syrup, look  and taste like a little slice of heaven. I wanted brownies that make you want to orgasm in chocolate flavored deliciousness when you sink your teeth into it. I did NOT want brownies that tasted like they came out of a box. I was so sad and angry… it was actually probably a bit of an overreaction, to be quite honest. But I miss brownies!

You have no idea how hard it is to not eat food that you enjoyed and you miss.

I have a rule of not bringing food into my house. Everyone breaks it. And I do mean everyone. I don’t mind my roommate bringing in food because 1) she is careful and 2) she asks before she brings it in. But it irritates the core of my very being to sit and watch people eat. I have tried to do the whole mind-over-matter, telling myself that “they are eating poison”, finding an alternative that works just as well, and other things that do help. But there are some things you cannot replace. How do you replace Doritos? You don’t. And they make a mess. Days after they are eaten, I am still cleaning up orange, toxic powder from all over the living room furniture. I am not being dramatic. I am being serious. It leaves welts on my son’s skin.

I also don’t like it when people bring their sandwiches over. My roommate is the only person who is super careful about it. Other people bring their sandwiches here and when they leave, I am left cleaning up bread crumbs. My skin is currently peeling off my hand from this. Why do people not get this? Please stop bringing food into my house! How hard is this to understand?

Let’s Pretend with ALLERGIES! AKA If Your Life Sucked as Bad as Mine

Let me explain this a little better. Imagine that you are in a room with people. This room is in your house… we’ll pretend it’s in the living room. And every one of those people are going to sit in every seat in your living room, including your sacred chair. You know what I mean. That one chair that is your chair and your chair ONLY. That one that you paid a ton of money for because it stands you up, massages your back, and heats your back… yea, that chair. They are sitting in your chair.

Now, imagine your favorite food. That dish that, if you were a little hungry, you would gleefully devour in about 2 bites or less… plate, fork, spoon, and all. That dish that is your absolute FAVORITE dish of all time. That one that will never be the same if you change the ingredients. There is just no way in the world to replace this food. If you aren’t following me on this part, pretend it’s corn. Your favorite food is corn. Okay? And its powdery corn or something…

Now, imagine that you are hungry… just a little hungry. Not starving to death, just a little hungry. It’s right before dinner and food is cooking and you are looking forward to eating. Now imagine that each person broke out your favorite dish and all of them got a nice heaping serving of it and ate it in front of you while you got to eat… nothing. You get nothing. Okay okay! You can have a small cup of water with unflavored gelatin in it and maybe a smidgen of sugar. Now sit quietly and chew your sugar-water and quit complaining. Other people are happily eating your favorite dish. Quit being such a party pooper.

Wait… What?

Sounds harsh, right? You are thinking, “I wouldn’t do that to a friend!” and “How horrible!” or something like that. Well, the people I know just think “Meh, just cuz she can’t eat it, don’t mean I have to go hungry.” And then there is probably some of you who are thinking “just take a bite and take Benadryl!”

If you try to sneak a bite, your skin will peel off, you will vomit for 30 minutes, your face will swell until duck lips look tiny in comparison. You will be covered in a burning, itching rash and you will poop out the liquid acid of death. Your gut will cramp so bad that you will wish you were dead, or at least giving birth so you have a reward in the end. You will have a few moments where you cannot breathe at all and your entire body hurts so bad, all the way to your bones, that tears run down your purple face as you violently shake and you will start to wonder if you are going to pass out or start gasping for air first… It’s not worth it.

AND while you are watching everyone else eat, you pray to whatever god you worship that they clean up well when they are done. If they don’t, you will be walking through your house with a little mine field all around you. Touched a chair without realizing that they touched it without washing their hands and rubbed a little corn juice on it and BAM!, your covered in a rash, your skin is peeling off, etc.

Now, just imagine yourself and your guests who come over and imagine everything you touch all day long. Think about your living room and what you touch when you are in it. Put powder on your hands and try going through your living room one day. Your hands touch all over the place. Now, that favorite chair of yours is suddenly a toxic threat. It’s covered in poison.

People don’t understand that being allergic to some things actually turns that thing into poison to you. If I were to sit down and eat Doritos, it would be like consuming poison. If I ate peanuts (and I did accidentally), I would be in the hospital. If I touch turkey, I go into fits where I am gasping for air and I can’t breathe! While all of my allergies are not this extreme, for the ones that are this extreme, is it too much to ask people to have a little respect? A little common courtesy?

Is It Too Much To Ask?

It’s not like I go into a restaurant and ask people not to eat their food in front of me. I don’t go to people’s houses and ask them to not eat in front of me. I am in my apartment. I am asking you to not contaminate my living space, my safety zone… my “bubble”, if you want to call it that. Is that too much to ask?

Total Freak Out Day

Today I am totally freaking out. It’s bad when I can’t even think straight. I am so stressed right now with no income. But, I am trying to focus enough to get stuff done. I finished a scarf for myself. I forgot to time myself to see how long it takes to make one. I have an appointment today for the tobacco seminar. I also have a coffee meet with a couple of ladies in town.

I am trying to stay calm but it just isn’t working. I am stressed to the max this week and I have no idea what I am going to do. I am trying to plan ahead but the only thing I can think of is homelessness. It’s a horrible day when homelessness is looking like a viable option again.

My doctor was talking about putting me on medication to help with depression. I don’t need pills. I need income. I don’t want to be medicated. I want an actual plan that will make my life better. Pills cost money anyway. How the hell am I supposed to afford medication when I can’t even afford my electric bill? This is insane.

Why Do I Let Him In My Head?

Just when I was starting to feel upbeat and optimistic, my ex called.

I was really feeling more positive about making items to sell, searching affiliate links for my blogging (but only ones I approve of! I am picky!), working on a book, and working on my children’s book series I came up with years ago. My oldest son strongly encouraged me to really throw myself into my writing and crafting. He made me feel so good about my talent. He might be biased, but he is honest too. He’ll tell you if he thinks something is a crap idea. He didn’t have pompoms and do a cheer either.

I was talking about blogging and explaining how upset I am that I can’t make money working on blogging like I had hoped. He nonchalantly said, “You should really get back into writing those kid’s names books. They are awesome and a pretty cool idea.” with an affirming nod.

Coming from my son who responded with “Huh. M’kay” with barely an emotion showing when the doctor announced he was running tests for cancer; this small head bobbing, raised eyebrows, and semi-smile with a look of slight enthusiasm, was the equivalent of a cheer-leading squad followed by a marching band when it comes to enthusiasm from him.

But then my ex called and started telling me about the companies that want to hire him, all his job interviews, and generally how wonderful he is. Then goes into his lecture of “You need to get a job. You need to find a way to make an income. You need to…” and I just feel like shit about myself. I mentioned writing the books and he’s all “well, you need something you can do and make money now.” and goes down a list of suggestions. Most of them I can’t do. I can’t answer phones, hearing problem! I am not the best editor or critique person. And on and on. so I told him I’d be making craft items to sell and he said I needed to think about serious ways of making money.

Well, gee! Sorry I am not a skilled professional like you are. Sorry I can’t do all the cool and awesome things you do. Sorry I don’t have recruiters beating down my door. What do you want from me? A miracle? It’s not happening.

And I know I shouldn’t let him get me down, but I do. And it’s depressing to just sit there and think about all my limitations. I am trying to focus on what I CAN do. Not what everyone else can do that I can’t.

Why do I allow him to do this to me? I need to focus on ME! Not what he thinks of me! My therapist would be proud!