Remembering

I left you all at a strange place almost a year ago. Saying I was headed off to Cleveland and leaving everything on the line. And I did.

There were so many things I wanted to write about. The experience that I was left with was incredible and disheartening at the same time. And so I held off. Because most times that I wanted to write were fueled by depression. Severe depression.

I ignored it for a long, long time, thinking it was just a change in the weather or a bad day. But deep down I knew it wasn't. It was me. It was everything that has happened in these last 4 years finally catching up to me and my psyche just couldn't hold up anymore. So it broke down at a change in the breeze or a drop in hormones.

I should've known that when I felt so anxious about my problems that I couldn't even acknowledge that they existed that things were bad. But I just kept plunging into new things and occupying myself until a time came where I was just sitting at home a lot because work didn't need me that week and I had quit volunteering because of work.

So as I sat at home and a chill hit me and I burst into sobs for seemingly no reason, I knew something really was wrong and that I had to start seeing a psychologist again and do something about my antidepressant. Because at the moment there seemed to be no "anti" qualities about it.

So I started seeing the same psychologist my brother sees and as I told her everything that was going on, I found myself doing the same thing I always do: making my problems seem small and non problematic. I only cried once. But seeing her concern by the end at how my highs were lowering and my lows were getting lower, she told me to consult my neurologist about a change in dosage.

Nothing has kicked in yet, but I am having a moment of clarity.

Going to Cleveland, despite what everyone says, was a success in my eyes. Hell, even despite what I say sometimes. And it was a success not because I left cured, but because I didn't quit. It was an intensive 3 week program that I had to drop my entire life in Pennsylvania to do. And it was hard. Really hard. And there were times when I questioned why I had even thought it was a good idea.

And then I would see the others in that next moment. The others who were just like me. Just trying to make it through their 3 weeks of Hell too. And we found consolation in each other, not the doctors. We carried each other through rough weeks and celebrated good ones. We waved happy and hopeful goodbyes to the graduates of each week that passed. We gave grave consolation to those just starting and told them how they really needed to just make it through Week 1.

It is a time in my life I will never forget. Those are people I will always remember. Their smiles and their tears. Their warm embraces and laughter we all shared. The knowledge I will pass on forever and hold in my heart.

Cleveland was an experience that I would never do again. But presented with the option in another life? It is most certainly an opportunity that I would embrace with the same vigor that I did in this one. Hope given is a rare thing. I strive to impart it on others throughout my journey as I did in Ohio.

Brevity

So I'm going to Cleveland. OHIO.

IT"S SNOWING THERE.

I should be excited.

But to be honest I'm terrified beyond a doubt.

This wasn't the year I envisioned. But to be honest, this wasn't the past three years I had envisioned either.

And yet I wouldn't give it up. I couldn't. Too much good is intertwined with the bad that sometimes it's hard to differentiate. Sometimes all I look back and see is goodness. Sometimes all I can see is hardship.

But right now all I see is the frightening path that lies ahead. The great unknown that is a three week program of getting better or learning  how to fake it. In a town miles and miles from home, family and friends.

I've always been one to take the plunge first, but for the first time in my life, I'm hesitating. Have I just gained common sense or is this something in me that's begun to think I really will be like this forever? Neither will help me.

Whether I'm ready or not, the ground is about to drop out, so I need to find a parachute and find it fast.

When you have mice and ants

To some people, this is the ultimate demise. Two pests in one house and very few chances of getting them out anytime soon. But fear not! I have formulated a list of how to calmly evaluation the situation.

STEP ONE: Rejoice!
You have always wanted guests in your home! You love to entertain!  Now you have thousands of friends to encompany you on your daily journeys, such as to the shower or making dinner, or eating lunch! Where's the party at? YOUR HOUUUSSSEEE!!

STEP TWO: Panic!
This is too many guests! They are beginning to overrun you and eat all of your things, including your chocolate and sugar. Bitches be crazy. This is not good not not not good. They're also beginning to scare you. Showing up in the middle of the night, just running around blindly, like it's a game! This is awful. This is the opposite of what was supposed to happen. OHHH NOOOOOOO!!

STEP THREE: Destroy All Things!
Okay these mothers have gone far enough. Their invasion has become a personal testament to driving you crazy. It's time to bring out the big guns: traps and glue. They think they're going to get away with hoarding the candy in your closet and decimating your counters with just their presence. WRONGZO. And when the tails start dropping, you can feel a sense of accomplishment and pride. Especially as you watch the struggle between the tiny insect and the tacky, sugary sweet glue. Killed by your own vice.

Aaaaaand that's it. I hope this helped some of you. I hope your pest issues subside with the warm weather about us. This is Jess, signing off.

What You're Saying is So Wrong

Okay ladies and gents, let's set some stuff straight. I'm so sick and tired of hearing these things from people that don't know what they're talking about. If you aren't sure, keep your mouth shut, got it? Because you just don't know. And you'll never know, until it affects you. And it likely won't. And that's okay, because I would never wish this upon anyone. Not the people that say this or the worst people in the world.

#1: We don't sit at home and watch TV all day

We are in chronic pain. Meaning all the time. Meaning never stops. Meaning it's a good day when we can get in 1 TV show. Possibly a half hour. An hour on a really good day. Maybe two on some miraculous day. So stop assuming that because we're at home, that we do the shit you do when you are at home. We do not get "days off" we get days where our pain is so bad that we absolutely cannot tolerate leaving the house or maybe the bed. Stop being an assuming assbutt.

#2: You do not work harder than we do

I came back from a week and a half stretch of being ridden with pain and frustration at not living a normal life on time. Pulling myself out of bed was the hardest thing in the world. The punches in my brain screamed at me that today was not the day to do this. But I didn't care. I missed my friends and the regularity of a schedule and having things to do. This day happened to be a few days before a big break. Winter break to be exact. Upon making it (proud as a new mother on her child's first successful day of school) to my first class without dying, I joined in the hype. I got shit done and socialized my ass off. And that's when someone said it. I made the "mistake" of saying that I, too, was excited for the upcoming break. And this person has the nerve to look at me and go, "Why? You're never here anyway." Which meant, "Why? You don't deserve it as much as we all do." BULL SHIT. You do not work harder than I do. Just because you were able to get out of bed five days in a row as compared to my one, that does not mean you deserve anything more than I do. I won't say that I deserve this break more than you, because that would be pretentious. My break and your break will be 100% different. So calm down and put your pants back on.

#3: I still do the same work that you do, so don't tell me I cheated 

I remember sitting and talking with my friend (who is super awesome and understanding of my condition) when some girl was passing out papers saying who got honors and such. She stopped at our table and threw the paper at me while saying, "How do you get honors?" Struck by the strange question, I responded, "Um, you have to get a 91 or higher I think." She shook her head, "No, I mean how to you  get honors?" And then she glared at me, waiting for my response. Not used to being under pressure of this sort, I just kinda shrugged and squirmed in my seat. She left. Now I knew exactly how I had gotten my honors. I had been responsible and gone to every teacher in the beginning of the year and explained my condition to them and worked out how to get stuff sent home so I wouldn't be behind. Yes, I did get extensions, but that doesn't mean that I don't work just as hard, if not harder, than you to earn my 95s. I make up tests that I miss, I do the homework that is assigned and I take notes when I'm in class. I'm not gliding by. I'm climbing the same mountain you are, except my side has a bunch of missing rocks and I have to take breaks or I'll fall and possibly never get back up.

#4: Stop assuming I died

This is possibly one of the most hurtful things you can say to a person. "Where have you been? I thought you died!" NOT COOL. This is mostly because at many a given time, I felt like I was or I wanted to die. But those weren't options, so I slugged through the swamp and emerged what I'm told is victorious. I missed my friends, I broke down, I missed social events, I couldn't get out of bed without returning an hour later some days. So did I die? Yes, I did. I'm not regular. But just because you don't see me, don't assume I'm dead. If I were, you'd hear about it on the news. Seriously, it hurts. It's like you want me dead, because my return confuses you more and more every time you somehow see me after two months.

#5: Don't make jokes about my condition

Don't tell me I'm faking. Don't tell me it's something I'm eating. Don't tell me it's because I need to lose weight. You are not a doctor. I have seen over ten doctors. You don't know anything about what is happening to me. Do not diagnose me. Stop trying to fix me. I just want your company. And when you aren't trying to fix me, you are joking about my condition. The above four topics, particularly 2 and 3 were instances in which I'm angry about now and can joke about now, but at the time of occurrence, killed me. Made me want to cry. Because people are mean and don't understand how hard it is for me to live with a professional kickboxer inside my head who is constantly training for some big event. You don't know what you're talking about. You are hurting my feelings. Stop being a jerk.

#6: DON'T EVER TELL ME IT'S BECAUSE OF THE MEDICINE I'M ON

I once had a friend who I was very close with and who I had a lot in common with. We bonded quickly and hung out a lot. We really shared some deep stuff. Upon being friends for a month, she proceeded to tell me that my headaches were probably because I was taking too much medicine and if I stopped maybe they would go away. And she said it so much that one day I decided, "Screw medicine! I'm not taking this shit anymore! I hate the way it makes me feel." So one night, I didn't take my medicine. And my mom came in and looked at me and told me she wasn't leaving until I took my medicine. We stood there for two hours, arguing back and forth. And tears were dropped, mean things were said and confidences cracked in half. (My mom is a pharmacist btw. Meaning she knows her shit more than a 16 year old high school student) And in the end I did take it, but by then I was broken. I didn't trust anything. I hated everything. All because of this one person, who got in my head. Safe to say that in the end (which is now) we aren't friends anymore.

And finally:
#7: Do not tell me to not freak out because there are other people who have it worse

I am aware that I do not have cancer. I am aware that there is a five year old child that does. And guess what, we share the same boat. Granted, their side of the boat has holes and they are sinking. But I'm sinking too. We are both drowning. The difference is that kid has a diagnosis. And that kid has treatments. And that kid, has answers. That kid has definity. I am just floating in this ocean of uncertainty. Will something show up on my MRI some day? Will I ever find out what exactly is wrong with me, how to treat it and if I can pass it to my kids? Will there ever be answers. I get it, that kid has it worse, because they are a child and they do not have good success rates. And they have to go through chemo and stuff. I feel for them. But them having it worse, does not make my pain any less real. We both hurt. We both have lives that suck. In the end, it's not who has it worse, it's that neither of us has a cure. Our boat is still sinking.

Wild Ride

So life happened. And it's going to keep happening so I need to stop getting so freak out when it happens.

It's dramatic and unfortunate sometimes yes, but that's just how it goes.

Everybody feels pain. I'm not the only one. It feels like that sometimes. But it's not the truth. And I know it.

Well This Wasn't Supposed To Happen At All

So this, for lack of better wording, sucks. Reader, this is absolute ass.

Yeah, you just read that. It's ass.

I live on hope.  I couldn't dream to live without it. Yet I find my self compellingly thriving to exist in a world where it is nonexistent. Because where I am right now, is off the grids. It's long past happiness and just shy of torture. It's limbo.

I am living in Limbo. The world of existentially nothing, where you are neither lost or found. Where you are what you are deep down. And no one can save you. And I find myself falling deeper and deeper into this pit of despair.

Hell, I don't even think Limbo wants me anymore. I'm actually clinging to it for dear life.

Because I gave up everything. I was forced to give up everything.

Has someone ever offered you a chance? A chance to change it all and redefine who you are and what you live for?

My doctor offered me a chance for survival. I was falling at a slow state, but the matter was that I was still falling. I had fooled myself into believing that I was upright. That things were better. There was change on the horizon.

So I snatched that opportunity with as much gusto as the moment could summon. To be better? To get my pain free moment? Even for only a few seconds of relief, I would not let that pass. But I should have.

I switched my toxin. The toxin that had saved me, but not cured me. I tossed it away like a piece of driftwood that was wet. And I stumbled toward the shores of a new hope.

But my new hope was fake. It was a shattered storm before I even took a breath. And I should have guessed that from the pain. From the vertigo. From the shadows flitting across and attacking my vision. But I didn't. And I let it go. And I embraced the new. And it knocked me right back to the beginning.

The ground is cold and my feet are wet, trying desperately to grip the pavement. To feel something solid, something I could count on and hold onto.

But it's all gone. And I'm just stuck in the pits. Curled up and ready to throw the towel in again. And maybe this time I will.

Because I'm so tired. And I may just quit. Because two and a half years was enough for me.