save your sanity for later

beating like a heart, i'm going to walk through every door i can start

saveyoursanity — Mon, 27 Dec 2021 05:45:52 GMT

In my last session with my therapist, he told me he's not going to bother getting IFS credentials, and I said, why?
and he said, well, I don't expect to have more than ten years to use them in,
and I said, what?! well, I mean, how old are you, wait, you don't have to answer that if you don't want to, which is the way I usually ask impertinent questions

so then my therapist, who is a genial older man that I get along with quite well but whose advice I have been assuming is coming from someone my parents' age or so, says, amused: "eighty-five"!

Wow. Okay so yes, I live in the land of long-lived hippies who are 80 and look like they're 60 (my landlords) and or are 55 and look like they're 40 (my swim-'biddy')——but genuinely dude is in way better shape than my parents or Trav's. Wow.

Anyway he's been encouraging me to bring in other media to getting out my memorikes besides typing them out and he thinks my lack of artistic practice is perfect fodder for comics and before I was like "nahhhh"——

BUT NOW I TAKE HIM WAY MORE SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS. Because he is hella old! Like, I realized I was trying harder to follow his advice and of course every observation I make has to be followed by analysis

——BECAUSE I'M FUCKING AUTISTIC (always have been) (hello echolalia)——

and LITERALLY my train of thought went like this: I think I value his opinion more because he's like, that old, and is still doing so well when he's actually seen some shit.

Then my train of thought kept going.

I know too many idiots my parents age who *think* they've seen shit but actually just made it go to shit, but yeah, maybe I just like grandparents better, who knows——omg do i trust him more because he's closer to death

so then I texted panda and long story short my comic will be the adventures of Grim Reaper and Plague Doc and here's the inspo which I already owned, they are squishables, you are welcome:

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

The future is mine just the same (where the wind blows, round and round in circles)

saveyoursanity — Thu, 16 Dec 2021 23:34:36 GMT

therapy Yesterday. We walk there. Teyla and I both leave the house/neighborhood on Wednesdays, and then I don't have to leave again until next Wednesday if I don't want to. Usually I don't.

Quarantine and being sick has reactivated my agoraphobia big time. I sense so deeply that I need to be left alone?? It's probably not healthy I admit. Right now I'm so thin-skinned giving an awkward compliment makes me feel like—my default is to say god, you screw-up—hey, so just stop existing, stage right!

My therapist called me special, said I don't say this to everyone. I really believe you've got so many gifts. I told him I want to believe it, I just—don't. I stay adrift in a sea of "perpetual uncertainty, discontent and torture."

He said of course it's not logical, you were conditioned to insecurity your whole life.

... what the fuck I'd never thought about it like that. I mean yes, learned helplessness, but I'd never thought of it as insecurity on demand.

I know like—zooming out, the reason I got treated like that was all about control, and the inability of my emotionally immature system of care to treat difference with respect and sensitivity instead of criticism, alienation and harassment. I know they had to shut me up and I've known it all along, but that doesn't change the "conditioned uncertainty" of every layer I revealed.

Doc says the keys to recovery are "Repetition. Determination." Yesterday, listening to me rant, he thoughtfully added "Patience."

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

if you try the best you can, if you try the best you can, if you try the best you can

saveyoursanity — Sat, 13 Nov 2021 20:00:01 GMT

First thoughts upon listening to KID A MNESIA:

It does not surprise me that Radiohead's preferred edits make Thom's singing even less intelligible.

This came out 20 years ago???? Oh yeah, I remember taking my birthday money to the mall to get it. Cool.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

passing thoughts

saveyoursanity — Sat, 30 Oct 2021 02:59:38 GMT

Adulthood is different than I expected—— a lot more conversations revolving around buttholes than anticipated.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

freewrite 15 min, or until i get distracted

saveyoursanity — Mon, 02 Aug 2021 18:00:18 GMT

more freewriting
more talking before I've finished my coffee, insert eyeroll here

so they did this ... wait let me back up and refresh everybody's memory since I've become this incredibly sporadic journaler instead of my somewhat sporadic nature before moving to California——

side note: people who don't live in the western USA often don't realize that California is basically two, possibly three to four separate states. There's one part that would really like to get back to their populist, small town 'republican-esque*' roots

(* Republican politicians are motivated only by greed and sociopathy to increase divisiveness but citizen Republicans do occasionally believe they have different motives
whether or not that ends up being true I will leave as an Exercise for you, Dear Reader)

ANYWAY, in California you have, as soshesays, north to south, Log Fog and Smog.

Travis, Sasha, and I all live (mostly) in Fog, although tbh Log extends down here too——

okay where was I, catching everybody up on Erika's weird health shenanigans——

I THOUGHT OF A NEW METAPHOR btw.

My body is a old house with lots of curb appeal and basic structural soundness while still having a desperate need of a internal refresh of its systems as many of the amenities one would expect are broken—for example, temperature regulation is subpar and systems tend to break——however, as the remodel continues we notice there are lots of fun surprises like gorgeous old tiles!

However, the owners for the last 30/35 years did not take care of the property, mostly due to bad practices that were intergenerationally passed down. New management is now in place but change is slow and incremental as endangered species of Erika's Sanity nest on this property.——

more writing tomorrow, perhaps actually about my health. Will finish at this totally not a stopping point because today is a beach day.

Here, have a picture of Dog and some Amaryllis, locally called 'naked ladies':

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

'morning' pages freewrite

saveyoursanity — Sun, 01 Aug 2021 23:48:54 GMT

My therapist wants me to like myself and I am SO FRUSTRATED because I don't even know her——I mean.

The problem with the geographic cure is that sometimes, it works.

It's worked enough. I cemented a new lifestyle. I'm going to be in this neighborhood for eons I LOVE WHERE I LIVE, DAMNIT. i DON'T CARE IF IT'S DUSTY and LOUD. i AM A FREE WOMAN WITH A CAR. and probably a payment plan for a e-bike soon!

I just don't want to work this hard on myself anymore. I don't want to engage this much. I don't want to have to do more than I started doing before—before I moved. Paying attention to my needs at this level is FUCKING HARD ENOUGH.

but there's only so much life to live. There's only so much time. I have to get better because stagnation is death—— HAHA NO PRESSURE.

ON THE TOPIC OF MYSELF:

Most people with a mental health diagnosis are not as ill as I am.

Most people with my mental health diagnoses are not as ill as I am.

Until I engaged in social movements like disability rights, psychiatric survivorship, and general anarchic rabble rousing, I didn't realize how much of my time I spent propagating the myths of abled, allistic neurotypicals.

Until I read widely about misogynoir and interrogated my own beliefs on racism, I didn't realize that I'm nicer to people when they're darker— because I'm reminded of family.

I think of myself as a woman of color but how much color really fluctuates depending on the amount of sunlight I get, and this has dramatically changed how people react to me.

I'm always saddened when I recognize internalized bias because like, programming ugh bad but also is this useful? Or have I been hurting people without noticing it? Sometimes it's both, like me being generally mistrustful of white men despite many of them being nice to me.

People must sense how closely I interrogate myself just in case blind faith to authority were to suddenly crop up. No wonder cops hate me.

When people question me on whether I will change for the better, I question whether they know me.

Do I really not know myself??? or do I just ... I don't know. What the hell is knowing myself? Listening to myself? ugh. Boring! I already am the way I'm going to think! Of course I find my arguments convincing!

I didn't grow up giving family the benefit of the doubt and now that I have good people in my life, it rightfully pains them to be considered 'worse' than I would question the motives of a stranger.

I'm probably an Enneagram type 4. I'm a MBTI INFJ. I'm a Scorpio sun sign, with Scorpio rising and a Cancer moon.

I have a huge fucking inner world and frankly I GET TIRED OF IT. Talking about it with other people feels like the only way I get relief.

Sometimes I selfishly just want other people to really hear me. I think I want to listen to myself, and know myself, but reflexively I'm disgusted, so probably I just want to know me and not be ASHAMED, and then it won't matter as much when people have their own lives which don't revolve around me.

It's easy for me to let my hygiene slip because I don't think of myself as deserving higher standards. my depression manifests as being the piece of shit the universe revolves around.

these motherfuckers want me to REJUVENATE and REGENERATE and no one will tell me how because EXISTENCE is the practice

ffffffffffs DOGEN. you ZEN DICKHEAD this is why no one likes u u too real

i'm going to get in the fucking tub!@ and figure it out for myself! BECAUSE i'm an adult and i don't need ANY of you fuckers*

because i probably already have the book and just haven't read it because i'm tired of having shit pointed out to me about myself that's wrong, i can do that myself! but you can't make me! HA

okay yeah that's enough for now

* (distinct and different from you,
reader, whom I adore with all my heart)

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

Hated myself when she wasn't around (uncomfortable, uncomfortable)

saveyoursanity — Mon, 19 Jul 2021 23:40:32 GMT

Time seems to go faster as I age. Honestly, very confusing, as I'm not any smarter. In fact, I have transitioned to a more embodied & corporal state of existence, rather than the purely intellectual "brain in a jar" I erroneously & narcissistically prided myself on prizing previously.

I contemplate youths so much more. Not as my old-ass friends, having babies and getting married and making substantial improvements to our rented spaces that can technically be reverted——anyway, youths! Cool people who may want my guidance! Like siblings but they haven't gotten tired of me yet.

My theory now is: Adults are as useless as I suspected because we've automated so many more biological functions. People who are younger have a flexibility to them most of my age-mates seem to lack. But after 25ish, 'forebrain' (societal consciousness?) comes fully online and we develop an inborn sense of consequences. Thus, we get boring because we're scared! We begin to contemplate our own mortality, and because our brains aren't stimulated by the act of being alive on its own per se, this kind of callus develops: controlling, insidious nature of ossification tempts adults: You know everything, calcify and survive. We get bored, then blasé, then betray who we swore we'd be.

( “Anyone who is not a republican at twenty casts doubt on the generosity of his soul; but he who, after thirty years, perseveres, casts doubt on the soundness of his mind.”)

My body does not wish to adult, ignored and abstracted and reliable. I-body demand my-Self's attention. My past needs acknowledgement, processing, not just that habitual defensiveness—oblivious shields on full and jokes fired everywhere.

My callus developed as a shield to hold the others away, but now it shields deprogramming their bullshit narrative from me, and holds panes of glass between me and who I want to connect with. Through windows, only. Could be sometimes flippancy is a gift, glib gab, but others I need a gobstopper—and to stop, and to listen.

I am scared and there is so much pain in being afraid.

Normally when I'm afraid, I charge like a bull, my private Pamplona, satisfaction demanded by my sharpest bits. Y'know, there are very few things or times in my life where I haven't just decided to go full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes, but—but here we are again, worried because this isn't a fight I want to pick if I don't absolutely have to.

I want to nurture myself. I am scared, I acknowledge. How was there pain in being afraid? The memories slip themselves back to my conscious mind from my body— here, this tension from being chastised about being sick, here this burning lung for the illness itself, here this ache and sadness and sour stomach.

Deep breaths, honey. The body-sheltered feelings and disengagement come at a cost—the effort & ability has to come from somewhere, nothing in life is free. I traded my ability to believe in magic and trust other people for holding back all the pain, and I'm here these few years later to say it's not worth it.

Feeling my feelings, I hate it. IT SUCKS. Fuck this shit!

Still. I'm finally old enough to know myself, and—well, I hate everything the first time I try.
How do I manage to go back for seconds? All this self-control had to be good for something.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

no, NO songs, only worry.

saveyoursanity — Fri, 07 May 2021 18:28:23 GMT

So as I stare down the barrel of a consultative exam for Social Security disability, I have not been able to stop thinking about what disability even is. I've tried my best to get to the lifestyle it seems like everyone else can do—not that it's not effort for them, they're just not ... completely shattered by it like I am????

I'm having a lot of "do I even qualify" thoughts, like "maybe everyone else around me can see i'm not disabled and so i'm just imagining it."

If my experience is that no matter how hard I try, I literally cannot sustain the work options available to me, due to (a partial list off the top of my head of the worst problems)
* severe and somewhat unpredictable yet regular mental/emotional breakdowns which come with uncontrollable crying, occasional screaming and flailing ('meltdowns'?)
* inability to communicate respectfully with authority figures, especially when there's an expectation of punishment
* dissociation from, y'know, this reality to the point where I regularly don't remember what day it is
* incredible exhaustion from tasks most people consider 'normal' (i.e. going to the grocery store, talking to strangers, an 8 hour shift)

BUT so many people who know me in an acquaintance sort of way think I totally can handle this stuff——

is it possible that I'm actually not ill and it's just that I'm... ______________ (I don't know what that blank is, maybe malingering? enjoying not 'having' to work? or giving up too soon?)

I'm so in my own head about this I would really welcome some outside input.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

saveyoursanity — Thu, 04 Feb 2021 21:54:29 GMT

Goals for February: Every day:

5 minutes of exercise.

One sentence of journalling.

One paint stroke.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

no such thing as too much

saveyoursanity — Fri, 22 Jan 2021 19:58:47 GMT

I feel frustrated, stuck. I miss moving forward. I want to keep recovering, make progress.

I'm just tired of failing.

The irony here is palpable.

Sick of reviewing goals and seeing where they derailed, try again, start from not quite the beginning—two steps forward, then jitterbug my way back, only to fall down from exhaustion and stare longingly at where I meant to be all this time——force myself up.

Keep going, just keep going.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

saveyoursanity — Thu, 07 Jan 2021 04:52:11 GMT

What the hell happened today, United States? Seriously? I knew we were bad, I knew we were this bad, but I guess I expected there to be a plan to improve things for SOMEBODY (even if it was just white supremacy and rich people like usual) and not just the Capitol equivalent of the raid on area 51.

Fuckers.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

and i find it kinda funny, i find it kinda sad (i find it hard to tell you, i find it hard to take)

saveyoursanity — Wed, 06 Jan 2021 19:21:01 GMT

Happy New Year!

Time goes faster as an adult. So many things I was told I would understand when I'm older—often I still don't, like the casual cruelty of the super-rich or the mass shift towards fascism of the political right in America not to mention that it's somehow acceptable to Christians of any kind—but I do see that time goes faster.

My abuela isn't doing well. She's 84, and her heart stopped at one point and the doctor just happened to be visiting to do that voodoo they do (probs CPR), and anyway, so my father and I think her time is coming soon. I love her and I've been thinking about her a lot. I'm so grateful to her for a lot of reasons—definitely one of my favorite relatives, and I miss her like crazy.

But also in an adult-y way I've accepted death much more than before??? Probs that's meditating on how my dog on her way out tho, not like, expediently but just because she's fourteen, you know. My mother-in-love didn't like the joke at Thanksgiving about the best way for her to go, which, fair! (I'm facetious most of the time but the sarcasm can be deadpan af --> sarchasm.)

I don't hike enough for this to be likely, nor leave the dog unsupervised at any time, but regardless I remain firm on this:

Best way for dog or me to go—— mountain lion. Never even see it coming! Think about it: If a great white or seal bites me when I'm swimming, they won't even enjoy me! Why NOT mountain lion?

Especially since they're not doing super good thanks to the CZU fires, and I believe wholeheartedly they deserve a good meal——and let's not neglect to imagine HOW AWESOME that epitaph would be:
Erika went out like she came in, through MAJESTIC pussy.

And now for something completely different! Here's some new resolutions, more short term this year:

In the next three months, I want to nurture my creativity by engaging in active recreation—by this I mean rather than passive consumption of media, I wish to create new works while engaging with the world around me in a relaxing and nourishing way.

I want to encourage my inner critic to release its vehemence which was necessary when it worked so hard to shield me from harmful and toxic soul-crushing, and now can transmute into a gentle and thoughtful advisor.

I would like to meditate regularly. I choose to set my intentions to be concrete here by meditating before lunch every day. No restriction on length—5 minutes would be fantastic. Just every day or as regularly as I can.

I'm proud of my desire to grow.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

together we can take the world apart, my love

saveyoursanity — Fri, 11 Dec 2020 20:57:20 GMT

I'm pretty good, I guess. Shit's still hard, and I'm still crazy.

Turned 35 last month. With the money everybody gave me I bought a wetsuit. It arrived on Tuesday and I went for a tiny swim in ridiculous surf because I could. It was glorious.

Celebrating Chanukah with the girlfriend's family tomorrow. It's nice to have family. Confusing to allow them to like me. I'm not used to having family who like me, I suspect I'm difficult. I still don't see what I could be good at, what I could contribute, that what I do is enough. It probably isn't, right? Just legally speaking, it's not.

I say that as I just resubmitted paperwork reaffirming my disability shit with Social Security.

I mean, I say that too like the collapse of USA's society isn't imminent for a lot of reasons, including fascism resurgence, and also because capitalism is devoted to squandering as much of our communal resources as possible on the top .01% of humans. I feel sorry for Joe Biden trying to fix this shit. Course, I did vote for him. Ms. Harris was my senator, now she'll be my VP, and that's exciting and cool. Still bummed about the judge with no fucking qualifications who replaced RBG.

Teyla's well, 3 months after her last cancer surgery, although I keep postponing calling the cancer center for dogs where she'll probably start radiation therapy. I keep postponing having my car repaired. I keep postponing all this important stuff.

The psychological assessment said I was self-defeating, hated authority, unwilling to control my emotions. Fuck 'em. Not sure how much attention I should pay to that old crap, considering I paid $200 AFTER insurance to be subjected to a Rorschach blot test——

Literally everyone's first comment is
Isn't that completely deprecated
Yes, yes it is

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

if i should fail, if i should fold, i nailed my faith to the sticking pole

saveyoursanity — Tue, 16 Jun 2020 01:19:51 GMT

Wednesday: proud of myself for acknowledging how triggered I was to my therapist.

Thursday: Proud of myself for working six hours and getting a lot done.

Friday: proud of myself for going to the doctor's appointment and remembering to tell him all the stuff but not talk his ear off. Appointment was like 10 minutes shorter this time. Proud of myself for going to the beach and swimming afterwards. Proud of myself for restarting the prazosin even though it gave me a nasty headache the first time I took one dose.

Saturday: proud of myself for working a really good 2 hours in the morning and getting the necessary stuff done before I went to the beach.

Sunday: Proud of myself for prioritizing my needs and getting some good sunbathing time in while retaining physical distancing. Proud of myself for not assigning myself blame that we forgot about 'zoom'ing into the Zen Center. Proud of myself for taking an emergency med when I couldn't fall asleep.

Monday: proud of myself for showing up to work despite worries that aren't really even real but still make me feel like I'm somehow not good enough in some way. Proud of myself for eating healthy food that Trav & I made.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

i'll put all my pieces back together, where they belong

saveyoursanity — Sat, 30 May 2020 06:36:12 GMT

Had surgery. Surgery went well, insofar as anyone julienning bits of me could say.

The anesthesiologist was an older Asian man and he was absolutely adorable. Not just because he told me he had 40 years of experience and he looked about 45, but because of how he reacted when I told him about my bad reaction to propofol.

Long story short, I very politely requested ketamine instead of propofol, because the last 4 times I've had surgery and they used propofol, I got extra crazy a day later, and it lasts for a whole damn week. Extra crazy as in suicidally nihilistic to the point of casual shoplifting in front of store associates because 'life is meaningless anyway'. Anyway, the anesthesiologist bounced in joy and basically told me I'd get all the ketamine I wanted for telling me something new.

He also said I'm more likely to be reacting badly to the combination of anesthetic gas (used before the propofol to induce unconsciousness) and narcotic pain meds, since he's literally never heard of this before and the other two have depression as a known side effect, well, it'd be more likely, but no matter! Ketamine it was! So fascinating, your strange reaction. Tell me more!

You know that's someone who really loves learning when they're literally bouncing at being contradicted. (He also bonded with me over racism [must've been hard growing up in Iowa] right before surgery, which was boss. Nothing like validation to make me relax.)

Surgery itself on ketamine was fun times. Coming out I was basically still dreaming: saw the weave on the surgical drape turn into horses which galloped off to bring the doctors to fight my infection. Go team!

Trav says I continue to be shockingly alert post-surgery. I apparently just like to make fun of how "very tired" I am and then go to bed early. Rockstar.

In other news, I continue to be the most boring person when prescribed narcotics, taking only half of the dose as soon as possible, halving that again when the pain decreases, and then mixing the rest with dog poop and throwing them out. HA. TAKE THAT, UNNECESSARY NARCAN PRESCRIPTION.

Still had a damn trip&fall type accident on Monday, the day I took my last 8th of a dose. Do not anticipate telling my doctors, as I still belong to the Never Broke a Bone club, and didn't even sprain shit this time. Probably should but don't wanna, there were a lot of extenuating circumstances and I don't want to be getting Olds, as I turn a whopping 35 this year, and am NOT a damn Fall Risk.

I'm just dissociating, not incapable, okaaaaaaaaaay?

The nipple is recovering well although I wasn't expecting to have an interesting new scar around the 'cookie', not inwards like a pizza. Surgery follow up appointment on Monday.

In other news, my new therapist (of 18 months, Robin) successfully argued me into actually trying CBT techniques on my negative schemas. I was hesitant—Cognitive Behavioral Therapy was detrimental when I was still dealing with active traumatization at the time of implementation, lo those niner tenner years ago when I still worked with Colette—but yeah, I have a lot more to say about that soon.

I also have a new job! Migrated fields a little. But yeah, one entry at a time, will write about that soon too.

Oh, and Trav and I are making our happy way through Stargate Atlantis! one of us, one of usssssssss We've made it to The Long Goodbye which is Trav's favorite episode of the three we watched tonight, even though it included Grace Under Pressure. (Philistine.) David Hewlett, how are you so awesome?

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

fragility: the other white meat

saveyoursanity — Thu, 07 May 2020 19:15:52 GMT

erika in meat space:

frankly, I think doing shit like slapping Trav on the ass and telling him to keep looking pretty 'cause math isn't his strong suit is HILARIOUS.

For example, earlier he was complaining that his legs were still sore today from doing his new workout routine yesterday, and I said 'but think about how much I'll enjoy looking at your ass!'

Then I said, 'if it makes you feel better I'll pick up Teyla's poop (we were on a walk because I've dragged him into playing Wizards Unite, aka Pokemon Go for Harry Potter, drop your code in the comments if you want) and then he said

'Nah, I can still bend from the waist' and I said,
'no no no, that's indecorous, think about all the eyes that'll be on your butt if you do that!'

(I find stuff like that the funniest when it's something that someone has actually said to me and all of those are things people have said. Subversion of heterosexism is FUCKING HILARIOUS.)

Also, there are 3 types of people in my life when I say this kind of thing: my friends of color who laugh their asses off,
friends who were born with disadvantages but eventually educated themselves past their community to see the truth
and then there's the other white people who tell me I'm being mean to Travis.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

all the pain and the truth i wear like a battle wound

saveyoursanity — Sat, 18 Apr 2020 06:58:33 GMT

my fucking life update! content warning: infection update, breast imaging, grossness / dog bite, local politics & the french revolution, physical/emotional state: SPOILER ALERT: in the end, all's probs well.

So Monday Trav and I made up from the fight with the world's weirdest inciting incident, which seemed like it would not have gotten out of control if he and I weren't terribly terribly stressed.

Monday is also when I spoke with my GP, who put me back on a psychiatric class of drugs at roughly daily levels that I thought I'd left for emergencies only. Guess that's where we are: emergency meds. (Fucking daily benzos. FUCK.)

GP also told me he'd put in a referral to surgery and that I should go to urgent care because I may need IV antibiotics. Urgent care doc did NOT think I needed to be there and brusquely told me to go home, take some aleve for the pain, and HEAT the fuck out of the infection.

Heat causes swelling, and while my nipple still had sensation, that hurt. I'd done stints of heat but had previously not been able to tolerate the heating pad more than twice a week. 'Luckily' at this point I feel nothing but pressure, itching, and excruciating pain when applying direct pressure, so heat treatment is now possible. Felt chastised, cried during the appointment, then pissed by how cavalier and lacking in bedside manner the doc was (but recognizing he was probably right), I returned home and began applying heat. This seems to have finally begun to break the infection.

Then Tuesday, after we tried to relax for a couple hours and I scheduled a mammogram/ultrasound combo on Thursday, we went on a walk with Teyla. Then Trav went on a run alone, no Erika or our dog Teyla, where Trav got bitten by a dog! WtF, dogs, he loves you!

He didn't know the dog; basically he took a walking break, passing a house where the dog was in the yard, and then this miniature poodle came after him. Glancing blow because he didn't know the dog was there and was walking away, but the dog was really going for him and definitely broke the skin. Two decent size tooth marks, bruise the size of his knee, and of course we had to go to the Emergency Room and contact animal control.

Plus I got a great night of not sleeping until 3am as every time I closed my eyes, I saw him suffering terribly from 100% fatal rabies and here I had wasted days being angry at him for his reaction to my reaction about something he literally couldn't help.

(Fuck, I HATE IT when I really let my brain weasels out sometimes and then they go on a biting spree. Closest family gets attacked first, unless I fence them off entirely, and that SOMEHOW hurts people's feelings too. Then I have to apologize over and over again for fencing people off AND for having weasels in the first place, when I was given the weasels against my will as a child, did NOT agree to house the weasels forever and they also bite me WAY more than everyone else so that's kinda frustrating too because like, I'm not complaining even though I'm covered in weasel bites and this metaphor has officially gotten away from me.)

Wednesday we found out that the owners were very apologetic and all the dogs were registered with the county and regularly vaccinated. So really best case scenario.

We also rearranged the entire fucking kitchen for my new Aerogarden! It's not done because I still can't really be on my feet for longer than 20 minutes at a time, and Trav usually has to sit on me to get me to stop doing things so he's reluctant to let me start. (I am very frustrated about my health right now, plus I tend to ignore my limits at the best of times.)

Thursday I had a motherfucking mammogram AND a breast ultrasound. Hey! The infection's getting better, right, so the results were good? Hahahaha, you haven't been reading my journal very long.

For the left breast with the infection, yes! No liquid pockets means whenever my nipple starts playing along, I may actually be clear from this infection until it recurs next time.

When it recurs, they recommended I go to a surgeon immediately before starting antibiotics. That is what I fucking wanted to do, but last week they also said no non-essential surgeries and told me if I wasn't DYING from it, it could wait. Which it can! But it's shit to find out the surgeon's probably would've done it because they are bored AF right now.

Then I found out that the mammogram found 'something' at 8 o'clock in my right breast. Every characteristic the doctor named pointed towards a benign mass but apparently it 'bears watching' every 'six months' for 'a year or so'. I have no family history of breast cancer and no pain or abnormal discharge in my right breast so... yeah.

They also did not entertain my request to show me my scar tissue on the mammogram, which seemed RUDE. I WANT TO SEE. It's my giant fucking internal scar! Hmph.

Okay so now we're up to ... halfway through yesterday. I had a committee meeting, that went fine, it's public record so I'm not going to say anything that's not already out there. The Board of Supervisors re-appointed me for three years and the Advisory Board re-elected me as Vice Chair so that's cool.

So as it turns out, taxes are massively down. I mean, I knew this stuff, I knew we're headed for a Great Depression, I knew the stimulus check was basically a tax rebate and I knew that wealthy people got an even bigger one but—I didn't realize the ramifications.

Very clear that mental health services are going to take a cut, you know, like nobles during the French Revolution had a cut. Considering the people that need county level services—low SocioEconomic Status, declared Disabled, nuttiest of the nuts, criminals—you know, people just like me, who is all of the above—we are urgently in need at all times of more services, more support, more funding to save lives... and now cuts.

Guillotine level cuts. Fuck. FUUUUUUCK.

After that meeting, I got to unbox my Aerogarden, which arrived Thursday. I did it on a video chat with Sasha, because she was understandably worried about both of us after this freaking week.

Today has been much better. I gotta go to bed but maybe I can talk about Friday and Saturday tomorrow and actually catch up.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

stands for every one of us

saveyoursanity — Wed, 15 Apr 2020 23:21:03 GMT

Quarantmeme:

1. Are you an Essential Worker?
Technically, yes! However, since I've been sick since March 1st, I'm not accepting shift work at the respite right now. Working from home as a contractor though.

2. How many drinks have you had since the quarantine started?
ZERO, a distinction that only myself and siderea share of the memes I've seen. I've been on antibiotics since March 24th and I wasn't drinking before then, because I don't consume any recreational substances that function as CNS depressants while ill as much I can avoid it. (CNS stimulants to a lesser extent but I tend to still need coffee).

I also try to sweat through fevers rather than take an antipyretic, or treat the tension underlying tension headaches rather than masking the headache. As a rule, I only medicate menstrual cramps with OTC meds. Cannabis is a different story, but falls under the 'CNS depressant' part of the exclusion. I've used edibles around twice a week, since the pneumonia cleared up, for severe pain and muscle tension, plus topical CBD/THC oil for the painful area itself along with grapefruit seed extract to fight infection.

And, you know, I do take the 3-4 daily psychiatric meds I've fucking ended up back on in short damn order and the maybe-dozen supplements I've been on this whole time—omega 3, vitamin D, good B with extra B12, etc.)

3. If you have kids... Are they driving you nuts?
DINKWAD—double income, no kids, with a dog. The dog is very happy. And spoiled.

4. What new hobby have you taken up during this?
Multiple infection management. Ho ho ho.
In less inflammatory news, gardening! I indulged myself in buying an Aerogarden so that should be VERY fun. It arrives tomorrow and we're currently re-arranging the kitchen so that we don't blow a fuse with one more appliance plugged in constantly.

5. How many grocery runs have you done?
Me? None since March 15th. Trav: one a week, plus food bank once a week, plus shopping for Sasha's family.

6. What are you spending your stimulus check on?
The aforementioned Aerogarden for me, books and 2 new bookcases for Trav. Maintenance on Trav's car. Paying down Trav's credit card bill so we can buy an RV and move onto Sasha's parents' property, though that's more of a 5-year plan than a near-term goal.

7. Do you have any special occasions that you will miss during this quarantine?
Passover was via Zoom—nice to be included, except that it was rife with technical difficulties so our video was not received.

8. Are you keeping your housework done?
No! I've been forced to stay off my feet and not meal prep, which is VERY FRUSTRATING. Also Trav has now noticed how much deep cleaning I was doing when he was at work, which is nice, but he's noticed it because the apartment keeps getting grubbier, which is not nice.

9. What movie have you watched during this quarantine?
The 2017 Jumanji and Frozen 2. So in no particular order, movies from the last year I want to watch: new Jumanji 3, "Crazy Rich Asians," "Little Women," "Knives Out," "Men in Black: International," "Late Night," "The Long Shot," "Booksmart," "Plus One" and "Shazam." Maybe "Us", "Hustlers" and "Godzilla: King of the Monsters." "Animals."

In TV news, I've enjoyed Cells at Work and plan to enjoy Ronja: The Robber's Daughter soon.

9b. What are you reading right now?
While I was very ill, I re-read "The Secret Garden" which is one of my comfort reads. Very comforting, as I shall Live Forever and Ever.

10. What are you streaming with?
Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime on a PS4.

11. 9 months from now is there any chance of you having a baby?
Not unless something goes very very wrong.

12. What's your go-to quarantine meal?
I'm partial to a hearty vegetable soup made in a slow cooker. I basically start with mirepoix, add homemade stock then fresh veg I need to use, and round it out with canned stuff.
Trav likes picking up food, because cooking's out of his comfort zone.

13. Is this whole situation making you paranoid?
No. Paranoia is when the objective reality is not actively hostile. Right now, objective reality is actively hostile in multiple ways. Politically speaking some real fucking atrocities are happening. WAG THE DOG.

14. Has your internet gone out on you during this time?
Nope! Heard a lot of negative things about xF1nity (C0mcast) but they've been decent to me so far.

15. What month do you predict this all ends?

When what all ends? Social distancing... maybe June for a month or two if transmission falls off in the summer in the Northern Hemisphere.

16. First thing you're gonna do when you get off quarantine?
Nude beach 4 lyf.

17. Where do you wish you were right now?
Swimming in the ocean.

18. What free-from-quarantine activity are you missing the most?
Cuddling and hanging out with my girlfriend.

19. Have you run out of toilet paper and hand sanitizer?
I'm running low on hand sanitizer, annoyingly, because I need to use it /and/ wash my hands before I try to 'help the infection' along by encouraging expression of discharge.

20. Do you have enough food to last a month?
Yes, and I did before the pandemic was widely expected to hit the United States. I have minor food hoarding tendencies thanks to a shitty childhood.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

tryna find the one that can fix me

saveyoursanity — Mon, 06 Apr 2020 05:16:46 GMT

I'm getting better. Slowly. Frustratingly slowly. But not because of the pneumonia or anything like that... That's seeming gone now, and really that would be too easy. One opportunistic infection just isn't enough for me!

Finished the antibiotics for the lung infection last Monday. Nipple looked ... off but it wasn't painful. However by Wednesday the excruciating fucking pain made it clear that I had developed another fucking nipple infection/non-lactional mastitis/minor periductal abscess.

(So long history short: in 2011, I had breast surgery on my right breast, twice, for repeated periductal abscess. One of which was 11cm long—so big it actually curved around my breast. They threatened me with a complete ductectomy if the abscess recurred again, but it didn't.

Five years later in 2016 [probably because I didn't quit smoking tobacco in 2011 like I should have] I fucking got another one. But this time, in my left breast. I didn't get surgery right away—even though that probably would have meant it didn't come back— because the first surgeries were psychologically traumatizing and I kept thinking it wouldn't come back.

[I did quit smoking tho. 4 years tobacco free at this point.]

The initial left breast infection was in Feb. 2016 receded in March, then reoccurred in June (probs 'cause I was living in my car for a couple weeks), and stuck around until (iirc) December '16 or January 2017. I had literally just moved across the country and started working full time so I didn't think it was a good time to have surgery, although in retrospect, I wish I had, of course. As I was on antibiotics the entire length of the infection, I'd just squeeze pus out of it every time I changed my ice packs at work and every half an hour at home. Thank god for cannabis (at home) and ice. Looking back I'm not sure how I managed, and as much as I wish I'd kept up with my journal I can't fault myself for anything I did then.

yeah hahahahahahaha. Thinking it wouldn't come back? Thinking I could get away without having surgery? Infection's come back 3 times so far and every time since I haven't been able to get surgery—first time I had nowhere to live (June 2016), second time (February 2018) I didn't have insurance because I had to drop Medicare due to being too broke [picked it back up ASAP], and now I can't get surgery because there's a fucking world-wide outbreak of a novel contagious virus.

Oh, and I can't get treatment (antibiotics) before I get surgery because they need the evil duct to be severely inflamed so they yank the correct overgrown boil. Basically, I have to stay in severe pain and risk infection traveling into my lymph/blood system for as long as it takes until they can schedule surgery. In California right now they're only doing surgery if there is no other treatment AND you will die within the next two weeks without it. Okay then!

Annnnnnd now we're caught up.)

Called in to see my new practitioner over video chat, he set me up with a shiny new inhaler and told me he'd need a 'discharge sample'. That's the delightful shit you don't wanna hear when the infection is on one of the most sensitive places of your body—drop in and squeeze out some wound-juice for me, Erika! Just in case!

So I then got to run by his office where a security guard and nurse tag-teamed me with a thermometer. I was trying to figure out how I'd explain the fever I might be running that probably had absolutely nothing to do with any kind of viral infection and how was I supposed to explain that—yank down my shirt and show them my pus-filled left titty?

Moot point as I wasn't running a fever. However, in the two hours since the video call I had developed some very sexy red streaks running streaks from my nipple towards my heart, though! Hooray for signs of blood infection. Everybody got gratifyingly scared when I told them about the red streaks, which is about my only amusement right now.

At least the antibiotics are working. Again. It's day 5 of 7 and I might not even need to take week 2, which would be a) a first and b) great because I want a fucking drink, goddamnit. As I've been telling everyone:

Y'all living your best Quarantini life and I've been on antibiotics/NSAIDs since March 1st?! WHAT THE FUCK. I was made for day drinking!

But! Whenever this comes back again (in 2022?), I'm going under the knife immediately and caution be damned.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

i've been on my own for long enough (maybe you can show me how to love)

saveyoursanity — Mon, 30 Mar 2020 05:54:47 GMT

Appreciations today:

Trav (journalling at captain_chrome now) and I are doing better. I think it's because I opened up and told him how scared I was of everything that was happening. It really helps that I feel more like myself, and it's interesting how I didn't even really notice that I didn't feel like myself or act normally until my energy started coming back.

Sasha (my girlfriend of 4 years) recently started dating Trav, and I'm delighted to see them really enjoy each other. Trav may start grocery shopping for Sasha's household to lower the risk, which is just another damn sign of how goodhearted he is. I'm crazy about both of them and I'm so lucky we're all in this together, no matter the speedbumps.

Trav set up this amazing roleplaying game and found us a dungeon master! Now the three of us (Sasha, Travis and I) will get to hang out with Trav's friend and his son, building a story and playing a game together, on Sundays for the foreseeable future.

I appreciate how hard Trav's been working to take care of me. It's been very hard for me to relax and let myself be taken care of, but he's endlessly patient with me which makes him stellar.

Teyla continues to be a beauty and joy forever. The nice thing about staying home all the time is it makes her SO FREAKING HAPPY. She loves having her pack around all the time.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

when i'm like this, you're the one i trust

saveyoursanity — Sun, 29 Mar 2020 06:57:30 GMT

Unlike many others, I remain aware of exactly what day it is because I've repeatedly given timelines of my symptoms to medical professionals. Keerist.

So! Tuesday is when I went back to urgent care and started the antibiotics. Wednesday felt substantially better. Thursday felt worse in the morning than I did on Wednesday, BUT by night time that had improved. Friday felt the same in the morning as I did Thursday at night and improved by night-time again.

Thanks to Jenett's helpful entry on life with cranky lungs, I realized today (Saturday) that I may be feeling worse from mucus build-up overnight. I got some nice, warm, humid air in my lungs in the morning from a hot shower and had Trav do some percussive maintenance. I also stole back the heating pad and that's been helping too.

Weird symptom I didn't really notice until it started waning: MY SENSE OF SMELL WAS GONE and now it's coming back! Reliably! So excited! I could smell things off and on, or very strong things (last Friday I could smell the homemade chicken stock Trav was simmering for me) but now I can smell Teyla's ears (hm, she may need them cleaned) and Trav's hair—unusually flowery for his scent profile as he's using my conditioner.

Good things:

Trav has been taking such good care of me! He's cooked quite a few things: he made stock (from my frozen chicken carcass/vegetable etc), he made stuffing (from a mix, sauteeing onions!), he made potato soup, he made stirfry with lots of diffferent vegetables!

Trav got our new portable washer and dryer running! I'm so proud of him for persevering.

The three of my siblings and I actually got on a group call tonight. We had a good conversation and it lasted HOURS; no one had a fight or was mean or rude to anyone else. We were actually supportive and happy for each other. I'm so impressed with all of our growth.

Teyla, my sweet beagle, continues to be PHENOMENAL. She turns 14 on Wednesday and you'd never know! As I was preparing to go outside for the first time in weeks that wasn't related to a doctor's appointment, she bayed to cheer me on while I was putting my shoes on.

Today is the first day I haven't needed my rescue inhaler! I continue to mend! Thankful to Alexander Fleming right now. Yay penicillin derivatives!

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

my life, i can't breathe again

saveyoursanity — Wed, 25 Mar 2020 18:50:36 GMT

Before I say anything else, don't panic! The antibiotics are working, judging by how much better I feel today.

So yesterday I started feeling Pretty Damn Bad. Like, bad enough I started texting people that maybe I should just give up and lay down and die or whatever because the albuterol they gave me last week wasn't helping anymore.

SO instead of just waiting for the sweet release of death, I used the anger-fuel of my 'negative' COVID19 test—my ~~mild~~severe irritation with existence, the world, and life as a concept and specifically my life— to go to the urgent care associated with my cool new doctor.

(Side note: I ABSOLUTELY HAVE CORONAVIRUS. This is not influenza, this is not whooping cough, this is NOTHING I have ever felt before. What a shock—I REFUSE to cough, so I'm not coughing shit tons of the virus from my lungs into my throat, so a nasal swab shows nothing! Ugghghghgghghghghghghghgh. It's not like this has been repeatedly documented or anything. Apparently 30+% of documented cases test negative on and off with a nasal swab. Whatevs, I await the antibody blood test for my complete vindication.

PLUS THEY GOT MY GENDER WRONG. I can't decide if it's because they are under a lot of pressure, suck as medical professionals or whether this is social shaming because I looked like shit, wasn't wearing a bra, and didn't smile. Maybe all three. They also gave me the Spanish version of the COVID info even though I only spoke English to them??????????)

Go to Urgent Care, nurse who takes my vitals goes ... huh. Your right lung sounds raspy/congested and you're not breathing well. They did not rub my face in my oximeter results, which makes me think they weren't 'perfect!' like when the chirpy practitioner last week tried to shame me for coming in.

Doctor calls to consult via the phone since they're not exposing the prescribing professionals directly anymore. Doctor says "huh, you may have bacterial pneumonia brought on by an opportunistic infection, could be a result of" (wait for it) "pulmonary fluid build-up caused by another infection."

So!

Took my first dose of the new antibiotics last night, I've got a new inhaler of different drugs with sexy sexy mask spacer, and I'm feeling much more with it this morning.

Apparently I very much worried Travis as I "was not myself." I interpret this as I stopped ordering him around and telling him how to do everything around the house and gently teasing/roasting him. Instead I spent yesterday sobbing a lot in between taking pictures of my dog's worried face and texting people to complain about how dying is really a fucking drag.

Therefore Trav has promised me that if I do bed rest for the next 3 days I get to (temporarily) dye his hair blue. Result!

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

and if i'm being honest, it might've been a nightmare

saveyoursanity — Sun, 22 Mar 2020 18:17:10 GMT

Today I woke up and my chest doesn't hurt as much as it did yesterday. I cannot take this as an opportunity to do more, despite my TERRIBLE FUCKING BOREDOM, since I get short of breath after about two sentences and walking to the bathroom/sitting up at the computer is about all I should let myself do.

Did I mention the concentration and fatigue? I feel like half-microwaved half-frozen ASS. (It's still way better than I felt last Sunday.)

The albuterol inhaler I got from the doctor has helped, as well as RESTING CONSTANTLY, pushing fluids (and food, I stopped getting hungry when the chest pain showed up but my appetite started coming back Friday) and dosing daily with guaifenesin. Haven't used many fever relievers as acetaminophen gives me a nasty rebound headache, and anyway the fever for me was never that bad.

Should I get a spacer for the inhaler? So damn tired. So bored. So difficult to think. Started a new job and an online training course which took another person 4-5 hours to complete took me 7. That never happens; I'm a damned speed-reader!

Trav has left the house to go on a Serious Errand (laundry) which will take him out of the Quarantine Zone for FOUR whole hours and I'm inordinately jealous. Of laundry. I haven't left the house for anything but Three Serious Medical-Related Errands in... 15 days now. Not even tagging along on dog walks because I've been so tired.

(Dear God I probably should have quarantining for longer and been more strict but I didn't think I was really sick, fuck. FUCK.)

I will not go outside. I will not hurt anyone else more than I might have already by accident or ignorance. I will rest and recover. I WILL. I'm just ... lonely, I guess.

Brain is being very interesting right now. As I tune into what I'm thinking with the mindset of an interested bystander (thanks, meditation!) I have been noticing a few tracks of rumination:

Are we sure this is reality? It doesn't feel like Reality. Remember how when Trump got elected you decided this was the Darkest Timeline and you probably didn't belong here? So you really think Trump got elected AND we have a pandemic? Seems unlikely, doesn't it. Probably this is a simulation; notice how nothing feels real anymore? Did some lady in an isolation spacesuit stick a Q-Tip into your brain, seriously? Nahhhhhh. Definitely fake. Definitely. It's a nice fake for now but people will probably start turning into zombies at any minute, maybe you're being filmed? Nah probably not. Probably.

Hey, we should go outside and see other people because that Agoraphobia you dealt with for years was ~~FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE to get out of the habit of never seeing anyone~~ difficult to recoup from, so we shouldn't slide back into it! Go outside! See people! Get dinner and cuddle with your girlfriend! Get lots of hugs! You'll FEEL BETTER... don't you want to feel better? If you don't want to feel better, then SOMETHING IS VERY WRONG!

Nothing Matters! It didn't really matter to begin with, remember? Remember how we wanted to die when we were tiny? Remember how we were in Crisis Forever for the rest of our entire life? Remember how we even gave up on dying and sloooooooowly pulled our head out of our ass and then we weren't in crisis anymore SOMEHOW the WORK WORKED,
and then at the beginning of this year you were really excited and pleased because you were building up savings and you had things to look forward to and you'd built a good life with chosen family and part of a community and giving back and even started to appreciate yourself?
HEY HAHAHAHAHAHAAHA GUESS WHAT THAT'S ALL GONE BECAUSE NOTHING EVER LASTS——ALSO FUCK YOU SPECIFICALLY, ERIKA, you personally caused people to die by not taking shit seriously!

... I'm not going to let any of those lines of thought affect my actions, for sure, but wow is it weird to simultaneously feel like This Probably Isn't Reality and also, Why Don't I Just Go Infect Everyone because Being Inside Makes Me Sad and also, have I considered that Life Is Meaningless Just Like I Always Suspected?

Trying to hold onto gratitude. This is maybe the Later I was always saving my sanity for.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

take care to tell it just as it was, take care to tell on me for the cause

saveyoursanity — Sat, 21 Mar 2020 19:28:45 GMT

By this point, I'm pretty sure I have coronavirus.

Been basically self-isolating at home since March 1st. Very limited leaving the house initially because of the Buddhist retreat debacle which sent me into what I thought at the time was a fibromyalgia flare. Went to dinner for Trav's bday March 5th and after that, left the house twice for grocery stockpiling. Also went to physical therapy and the gym once during those first four days. (Feel terrible about those things because what if I got someone else sick, but I didn't know, nobody thought it was a problem, thought I was being a little overkill. Anyway.)

Took a 2-3 hour nap every day from March 7th thru March 13th. Called into work March 7th, still thought I was being overcautious. Bit of a runny nose at that point.

Found my shitty thermometer March 9th, but probably running a temperature before then. When I was taking it my temperature maxed out at 102, maybe, my thermometer is shit and I've pretty much given up on taking my temperature, but it would get worse the longer I hadn't slept. Chills and couldn't get warm, then breaking out in a sweat 3 hours later. Have to really push myself to drink water and eat.

Around 3/9, other symptoms started out slow like sinus pressure and throat tickle. Sore throat. Symptoms come in waves. Just been so tired. Incredibly tired, and I have fibromyalgia so I know tired. This is worse.

By March 12th, less sore throat and more lots of wanting to cough. Not hungry at all. Headache sometimes, which feels like the bastard child of a migraine and a tension headache so I suspect it's sinus, which I've never had before.

Pressure like my 20lb dog was sitting on my chest. That showed up Sunday night/Monday 3/16. Pretty short of breath by Tuesday. Tried to stay calm. Therapy appointment via phone on Wednesday, where I had to pause between every other sentence to breathe, deep slow breaths through the urge to cough like I did when I had whooping cough.

Reached out to Dr Sunday night 3/15, they sent me a message three days later and told me to go to urgent care if I had shortness of breath so I did.

Urgent care Wednesday 3/18. Nurse practitioner took my vitals outside in the parking lot, fully dressed in what seemed like a medical version of an astronaut suit, telling me I have mild pneumonia on one hand and "normally we'd do a lot more testing" but then also grilling me like she's frantic to find ANY other reason a otherwise mostly healthy 34 year old could have fluid in their lungs.

"You sure you don't have asthma? No allergies? Really, no allergies? Did you get a flu shot? You did? When? Do you mean October 2018 or October 2019? 2019, hm. But you haven't left the country? Oh, your partner travelled domestically, that's not an issue." ... COME ON, LADY. WE'RE IN A PANDEMIC.

So she basically told me to fuck off with my request to be tested: "we're only testing people we need to hospitalize" great! that's going to help the disease not spread! FUCKING PERFECT JOB, AMERICA. And I have Medicare because I'm disabled, so god only knows what people with HMOs or no insurance are going to be treated like.

Luckily since I'm near Silicon Valley, I can just trade my privacy for necessary medical care since google is doing testing for free in certain areas, so I got tested yesterday! Whee!

By the way the test SUCKED. Had to drive 45 minutes one way to have someone swab my sinus. Really felt like they were going for my brains. That swab just keeps coming IN. (assault reference follows) Brain raped with a fucking 6 inch Q-Tip. I was expecting it because I had whooping cough when I was 16 & that's the way they test you for it, but I still wanted to punch them in the face.

Today I'm tired enough that I wonder if I'm not making sense. I've edited this entry 9 times already. Feel short of breath walking to the bathroom, but I got shiny new drugs with Baby's First Inhaler and new cough suppressants, and my fiance is buzzing around guiltily since he's been perfectly healthy (with the exception of a 'cold' 7 days before I got sick) so he thinks he gave it to me. Poor dear also got laid off and is very worried about that too.

Anyway I told Trav to go clean everything and I think I'm going to take a nap after this entry's up to par. I expect test results earliest Monday, probably by Wednesday, latest Friday. Any questions?

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.

they gazed in wide wonder at the joy they had found (kings and queens step aside)

saveyoursanity — Mon, 05 Nov 2018 07:35:07 GMT

Since we all live so much of our lives on our phones, now, it seems weird not to be able to start this conversation by dragging in a picture or a meme to start trying to explain what I don't quite know how to put into words.

It's my birthday, and I am 33. I live on the California Coast with my fiance and my beagle. I'm the happiest I've ever been; maybe I just didn't know what full body relaxation felt like, until I physically felt like I was thousands of miles away from everyone who's in my nightmares, with the sun on my face and the ocean in my ears. I finally know who's in my nightmares now, too.

Can't imagine I've ever mourned so truly as I have over the last year. Back then, when I couldn't keep my head above water, every wave looked just as bad, just like all the rest. No difference between a riptide or a low tide to me, I drowned all the same. My emotions were a flood and my logic a desert, and nothing could adapt quickly enough. Now the seasonal shift is regular, and I see the difference. Now I know what I was changing for, why I kept trying—to get here.

I tell everyone: it's maybe not 100% my best life, yet I think I can see it from here.

I love who I am and what I do. I take pride in myself, or I try to anyway. I accept my needs and weaknesses and strengths and beauty. I only allow people in my life who treat me with respect, which I could never say before.

I eat a better diet now. Avoid empty carbohydrates like sweets, sodas, bread, pasta, which I used to eat constantly, I've probably cut my calories by 25% regularly there. Then I eat real food, usually what I cook/make myself from raw ingredients, heavy on the seasonal produce and twice weekly or so additions of lean meats. Tons of beans, legumes and fermented food.

I exercise regularly which is a relatively new habit. I can now comfortably walk 3-4 miles (once a day, over hours, but hey, better than ten minutes!) and/or ocean swim for half an hour at a time... which is great because the Pacific is goddamn freezing so if I'm out there ~~without a wetsuit~~ it's NOT going to be more than half an hour.

So this birthday I'm excited to see the results of my commitment to my body finally paying off.

((bunches of numbers follow)) I'm definitely seeing progress, fibromyalgia/PCOS be damned. I've lost about 16 inches (40cm?!) off my waist! I am down 10 dress sizes, from a 24 to a 14. Weight loss is less excitingly, around 50lbs (22kg). Clearly I've done a tremendous amount of composition change, though. Finally, my A1C (USA measurement of blood sugar over the last 3 months) is down to 4.9 (aka a 97 on a fasting blood test) from a regular testing of 5.5 (prediabetes is 5.7+). My HDL is up, my LDL is down, and my triglycerides are normal instead of over 300.

-----------

Setting aside the numbers, the change in my mood is undeniable. I work around twice a week, and serve as a volunteer advocate as well. Most sunny days, you can find me at a beach off the beaten path, where there's no cell phone reception but lots of cannabis. We chat, not usually about politics, and we commiserate and laugh. One particularly sweet woman brought me a flower in an actual vase today for my birthday, and a cider too! Someone else gave free handmade soap with my handmade sunscreen purchase too: the vibes are real, ppl.

I have purpose and drive and ambition. I'm happy and sad and angry and optimistic, confident and quiet and articulate and anguished. Grieving and laughing, full spectrum. In therapy again, still in love with the same wonderful man (4 years and counting), shocked to be this delightfully happy because it's real and everything I worked for.

I never wanted to die, I just wanted the pain to stop. I can say with certainty now it has, and I've made the world a better place for that.

Over the next year, I'm delightedly expecting all of these beneficial changes to continue and accelerate.

I welcome future physical confirmation that my body is relearning homeostasis and releasing the inflammatory overload that extreme stress (aka abuse) caused me. I will keep working to gently improve my physical health to my peak. I plan to continue to nourish my body with plants and whole ingredients, cooking for myself as much as possible. I want to learn how to surf kayak and will spend lots of time in the ocean as much as I can.

My mental health will gain greater stability and I'll fully own my resiliency AND my awesome powers. Using those awesome powers for good, not evil, I will grow in the peer movement and the volunteer spirit. I will seek out opportunities to raise my consciousness and affirm my commitment to learn from those wiser, regardless of age.

I especially want to encourage my mindfulness shift and seeing all the good in myself as well as the world. I'm fantastic: genuinely kind, witty, beautiful and doing my best. I'm not perfect, but realistically I'm more authentic and compassionate than more people as well as more sensitive and intelligent. I want to be PROUD of how AMAZING Erika is and I will keep making choices to facilitate that.

I want to practice stand up comedy. I want to practice my bassoon. I must continue to have amazing people around me who care about me, build me up and see me for how I am. On days when I can't hold myself up, I'm so lucky to have Trav, to have my new story of found family and best partnership.

Happy birthday to me, and many more.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there (), or feel free to comment here.