Today is the one year anniversary of the beginning of this new life of chronic illness for me. It has been–not going to sugarcoat it–pretty awful on a whole learning to adapt to the way my body works now. I’m not used to the gears on this new model; I think it sticks in first.
I might owe you a blog post of some sort. It’s seriously coming. If you look at ATTI on a regular basis you will notice that I’ve been posting with more and more consistency. I have a lot of making up to do and I like to do things the right way, so a job well done takes time. I have a nice list of books read but to be really honest my body is as bipolar as my mind these days and it flits back and forth between feeling good. I may have read your book and a bunch of others on a reading bout and it has gotten lost in a list of read titles on Goodreads, I might need a reminder from some of you. Please feel free to pinch me on the ass and remind me that I have your book. I like it when I get a little goose on the caboose and it will put you at the front of the line.
If you are an Indie Word Slinger do not lose faith in me. Slinger has always been a huge commitment and I’m still trying to rise to the top with this fibromyalgia bullcrap. I did one for A.J. Bennett a few months ago and it tanked me. I have every intention of picking up Word Slinger when I can figure out a way to adapt this into a better format. For the time being I am going to stop avoiding all of you like you’re disappointed parents and figure if we can find something less rocket science to do until my body Fraggles stop having angry sex with the alien parasites from Hell.
If you don’t know what the picture is about or what the post is for I will have a short story time. I deserve this, I have been strong through a hard year and I deserve an anniversary celebration.
Last year David and I went to Los Angeles on November 8th and I got to see my favorite Kpop band, Infinite. Yay! The next two days we hung out with friends at a gaming convention in Anaheim for a MMoG we used to play. Blizzcon is hugeous and I have severe social anxiety. Entering a convention center with nearly 30,000 people was beyond (is there a word bigger than ‘beyond’) traumatizing and coming home was more so… my mind and body closed the fuck down. I stopped leaving the house by myself; today, a year later, I still have never left the house by myself. So yes, it was emotionally scarring. The stress of it was hard on my mental state and my moods bounced all over. This is what I thought caused the weeklong migraine I got at Christmas that landed me in Urgent Care where I got shot up with the good stuff. That migraine though was the gateway symptom of my horrible future with fibromyalgia.
Through December to June I had a number of diagnoses tossed at me and then thrown away before finally I ended up at a rheumatologist who gave me the diagnosis of fibro. I call it miscellaneous drawer disease, it’s when they don’t know what is wrong with you but they can’t deny it’s something. I have seen 9 different doctors since January. That isn’t including the technicians or PA’s–those are doctors. Not including my psychiatrist and psychologist, 9 doctors, and I still have to make an appointment to see a pain management specialist. I also need to see a nutritionist soon because this new chronic awesomeness has made it that I am either allergic or intolerant of a lot of foods. Still my latest blood work showed my triglycerides are dangerously high, think Hercules instead of Joe Shmo high. It would be great if I could just, you know cut out the carbs, right? I don’t eat meat, don’t eat dairy, don’t eat sugar, don’t eat gluten, don’t eat fried foods, don’t eat processed foods. We cook everything in olive oil not vegetable, seed or nut oils. I don’t eat an over abundances of starches. I don’t even eat anything that is fun anymore. I took my blood work covering the last 4 years to my psychiatrist so he could see if there could be any connection to my meds, but nope. My body is just a madhouse and it likes to fuck with doctors. And me. It likes to fuck with me. It’s like domestic violence with my body functions.
So my ride has been wild but I’m happy because being bipolar it could be so much worse. It would be easy to let this get to me mentally and then I would have to deal with mental and body Fraggles together. I’ve made it a point to keep as positive as possible and keep it brief when I do fall apart and give myself only a few hours of feeling sorry for myself. Being sick is a great excuse to lose my shit, but it would still just be an excuse; being bipolar is a responsibility like taking care of a child–just that child is my crazy! If I let it run around and scream and shit on the floor or wipe it’s boogies on strangers people will bail on me. I need people and like them–just not in my house. =)
Tomorrow is the first day of my second year of being chronically awesome. If I owe you, please contact me and refresh my mind. Reconnect and we will revise if a million years has passed. I sometimes lose days because I’m constantly playing make up. If you send me something time sensitive and you don’t see it or I don’t react, call me on it! I beg you to make sure I treat you right. I lose days. I lose them the way other people lose keys. Help me, help you. I could always give more.
Thank you for standing by me this past year.
Ms. Ali <4