It's 10:00PM...Do you know where my brain is?

If you do, please catch it and give it to me in a box.  If you tell me where it is, I'll either forget or wonder why the funny-looking jello tastes strange.

So, the last 2 days have been, well......educational.  I've learned that when sleep-deprived, you won't realize Excedrin relieves a migrane.  I've also learned that when sleep-deprived, the very thought of leaving the house will give you one.  Oh, and don't ever think you can actually do programming between sleep attempts.  What on earth was I thinking???

Short answer....What's thinking?  The last week has been an interesting one.  I've come to the brink of insanity and come back.  I've decided psychological warfare is possibly the most sadistic thing anyone ever thought of.  Oh!  And I will never ever ever ever ever use blogging or writing software without a spell-checker (between Blogger and Firefox, I'm covered!)

You learn a whole new definition of your limits when you suffer from insomnia.  When you suffer from dizzy spells and migraines at the same time limits stop existing. Frankly, I'm surprised I have the cognitive capability to write this (mind you, still using spell check on words like "using".  Why it suggested "Husein" is still a mystery.)  What was I talking about again?

Oh yeah!  Insomnia.  It sucks.  Don't ever get it.  As it stands I've tried 2 over-the-counter medications (different ingredients, of course) 3 prescriptions (one of which was prescribed yesterday) and I still have nothing to put me to sleep.  So I'm waiting on a call from the after-hours advice nurse.  I'm really hoping she tells me to go to urgent care and get drugged up......

See, thinking back now, the shot of Toridol I got at the doctor's office was probably what gave me my best bit of sleep in weeks.  I think they'll object to me going in for a shot in the rear nightly so I can sleep, but at this point I won't object.

All I want for Christmas is sleep.  I wonder if Santa administers drugs???

Fatigue: Suckage of the Soul

Yeah, that's as close to a decent title as I can get in this state.  Suckage is hereby an actual word.

I have been so exhausted the last couple days.  I expected immense fatigue after picking Grandma up at the airport.  Day trips are usually quite painful and exhausting, despite the enjoyment of it.  Oddly enough, though, the next couple days were uneventful.  I can't say I was exhausted as much as maybe lethargic.  Just didn't feel up to doing anything, really.

Now the weekend was a total switch.  I've been up probably a total of 10 hours this weekend.  Now I'm fixing to go back to bed.  My sleep schedule is whacked, but I have this need to sleep this off.  How many more 18+ hour sleep nights I'll need before I feel better, who knows?  This is why I can't work for anyone but Dad right now.

It sucks to be undependable.  But for now this is what I have to deal with.  Right now, I just need to take care of myself.  So, yeah, if you can't get ahold of me, I'm probably asleep.  Fear not.  I'll see the missed message when I wake up.  Whether you're awake when I see it, I can't know.

For now, I'm just REALLY glad I got a new mattress.  I'm spending more time with it than anything right now.

Off to spend more time with it. Laters!

Messages in a Bottle

This post is going to be a bit more personal than most.  But I'm hoping someone can benefit from my experience.

I have struggled with depression since I was 13.  A series of knee surgeries and the loss of a friend left me alone and unable to keep up with people my age. As time went on, new friends came and went, but lingering, unsolved pain and depression remained.  I always felt like I stood out from my peers.  I felt so different and felt people judged me for having pains they couldn't see. But I always thought after high school, things would be better.  The truth is, however, that there's not much from that time that I can remember as positive.  Up until the time I was 20, most of my life had been one crapstorm after another.

I tried to find enjoyment, and picked up a card game I really enjoyed.  My brothers also liked it, so at one point, I would take them with me every Friday to a local book store for a tournament.  And then, one day, I ran into Brian, an old friend of mine from high school.  He worked security there, and was on his rounds with his partner and friend, Chris.

I had no idea how that would change my life.  Brian told me how he attended a bible study with Chris every week and invited me to come.  Now that blew my mind.  The Brian I knew had struggled to find his way, and to hear him now inviting me to a bible study, well, I had to see what it was that would have him inviting people to it.

I'd always been a Christian, and I'd attended bible studies in the past.  I never stayed with one as long as this though.  I met the most wonderful people there.  These people grew to become my best friends.  We laughed, cried, and prayed together.

As I grew more comfortable with my new friends, I started leading worship.  I had always loved to sing, and they allowed me to use that for God's glory.  I found peace every week in this.

The year I turned 21 had been especially hard.  I sunk deeper into the depression I thought I had gotten over.  That was the year my bible study planned to go Christmas caroling.  When I declined to go, my friends knew there was a problem and confronted me.

Now, Chris and his wife, Sarah, have this way of really getting to what is bothering you.  Pretty soon, I was spilling my guts.  Chris brought us out IBC Cream Sodas.  He told me to stop and just enjoy the cream soda.  I was to let go of all the crap that had happened and just enjoy it for the moment.  When I was finished, I felt a little better, but not enough to counter 8 years of heartache and hurt.  After a while, Chris told me to list 5 good things that had happened that week.  I can't tell you how hard that was.  I felt surrounded by so much bad stuff, finding something I couldn't complain about was hard.

As hard as it was, I eventually managed it.  Chris took the bottles and washed them out and came back with mine in hand.  As he dried it out, he gave me an assignment (he'd make a great teacher.  He loves giving out homework).  Every day, I was to think of just one good thing that had happened.  Just one thing I could be thankful for.  Once I found my one thing, I would write it down on a piece of paper and put it in the bottle.  When I had filled the bottle, we would share another bottle of cream soda.


Pretty soon, I found myself finding joy in the little things.  Even on the bad days, I could hear Chris's voice saying, "So what's one good thing?"  Every day, as I got off work, looking back over my day, I'd find my thoughts of "Oh my gosh, it's been such a crappy day!" change to "Yeah, but at least..."  The bottle of post-its in the cupholder in my car was a constant reminder.

When I finally filled it, we shared cream sodas again and looked over the last year.  On looking back, we realized that I had had only 2 breakdowns in that year, compared to dozens prior to that.  I cried tears of joy as I realized how far I had come. I realized I had shed more tears of joy this year than I had shed tears of sorrow or hurt.

Chris and Sarah told me that people noticed a difference in me and had told them so.  The end of that night, I left with my full bottle in hand as a reminder and a new one to fill up with more good things.

I still battle with my depression at times, but this exercise taught me to look at life differently.  There are times I try to talk myself out of doing something I want to do, but I look at the good, the fun I'll have.  If nothing else, this is another tool in my battle with my depression.

This Christmas is hopeful again. I see the good things again. My outlook has changed. My relationship with God and with others has improved. I am changing the parts of my life that need to change. I'm taking more pride in myself and more joy in my life. Life isn't just the waiting period for heaven, anymore. It's not something I'm forced to endure until I see my Maker. It's something to enjoy again.

My battle may never end.  This may be a fight I'm in for my whole life, but I look at it this way.  God works everything for the good of those that love Him, right?  Even the bad things that happened in my life had their purposes.  And perhaps someone can benefit from my story.

I hope by sharing this with you, it has blessed you in some way.  God Bless and Merry Christmas!

You Suck at Pessimism

Perusing some of my favorite web comics yielded this, today.  I guess I was a little surprised as XKCD is usually a techie, geeky, nerdy comic site.  But, as I've been spending days deciding what to write about, this was as good as anything for inspiration.

Like our protagonist here, I've found myself feeling scared about my illness.  I've run the gamut of emotions regarding my fibromyalgia.  When I was first diagnosed, there was an indescribable feeling of relief:  after years of trying to find out what was wrong and doctors just saying "lose weight", I had an answer.  I can remember before I was diagnosed, if I would have to leave someplace early because of my pain, I'd feel the need to explain it as "my knee is acting up" because that was the only answer I had ever had for my pain.  But truthfully, it wasn't usually my knee.  I'd go home in pain because of my neck or my back or something else.  But how could I say "I'm hurting too much from something and I have no idea why"?

So, having the answer lifted a huge weight off my shoulder.  Since then, I've experienced the highs and lows one would expect with a chronic illness.  The depression that's been around for about as long as my pain likes to rear its ugly head.  It's tough to fight off the feelings that I'm living with this for what will likely be several decades.  It's hard to shake the knowledge that as time goes by, my body will feel worse.  Worst is knowing that I disappoint people with what I can't do, no matter how much those people may understand.

The argument in the comic that it's all about having a good attitude is one that is easier said than done.  When you're looking at someone dealing with chronic pain, it's easy to say "Just have a positive outlook".  But when you're the one dealing with it, it's another thing altogether.  How do you have a positive outlook when you feel 40 years older than you are?  Where is the positive in losing your independence?

At some point, you come to the realization that the negative feelings never go away.  Until a cure is found, you will feel all the stages of grief again and again.  But, in my experience, usually at the end of all this you come to an even deeper realization of yourself.

You come out stronger, more sure of yourself.  You realize that you deal with this crappy disease and you're still alive.  You deal with the pain every day and yet still try to do as much of what you used to do as possible.  And in lots of ways, you end up better for your suffering.  You learn what and who is not worth your energy.  You return to the little things to keep busy.

And, although you have all the reason in the world to be great at it, you really suck at pessimism.