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Currently (2023) my most updated blog is everlasing.

Spaz is a useful side blog for sorting other stuff out.

Showing posts with label lyme. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lyme. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

middle of the night chronic spoonie lurker jackpot


Pix click out to other sites and sources. Some amusingly have nothing to do with what we're talking about.

I was very ill for about a year before I finally felt desperate enough to seek out medical help. I'd lost 75 pounds and hurt profusely all over, and felt like my spine was being microwaved, as if the spinal cord must have a fever. My first doctor was an ancient country doctor on the brink of retirement. My bloodwork inspired him to let me know I would be in a nursing home by 40, and that there was nothing that could be done. Then he prescribed the biggest jar of aspirin I ever saw in my life and told me to take it every day. About a couple of weeks into the aspirin I went through a full week of hallucinating and 'visions' and should probably have been in a hospital. I never went back to that doctor, and stopped the aspirin. I was in my mid 20s.

A few months after that I dragged myself into a city clinic and saw a real rheumatologist. He asked why I was there. I told him I thought I might have lupus. He asked me ten questions, and I said yes to all ten, including losing my hair, which was noticeable to my family. Without ordering a single blood test, he laughed and told me I don't look sick, and said I was skipping down a rosy little path to a psychiatric illness. I dragged back out to my car and sat there crying for almost an hour. Note- several years later, a doctor sent me back to that same rheumatologist who was now in an even bigger clinic, and after touching my rock hard shoulders exclaimed that I had the worst fibromayalgia he'd ever seen and demanded to know why I wasn't being treated for it.



I was too devastated to try again for another year, until I finally couldn't take it any more. It was a horrible time for single parents on medicaid, no clinic I called would take me. I finally drove back to the city to a clinic I hadn't called yet and dragged from office to office asking if someone could please see me. Finally, on the third floor, one doctor said yes and saw me that day.

From Fibromyalgia- University of Maryland Medical Center
"Fibromyalgia can be difficult to diagnose. It can take 5 years for the average person with the condition to finally get a diagnosis. As many as three out of every four people with fibromyalgia remain undiagnosed."
I was fast tracked to rheum and diagnosed within a week.

From Do I have lupus or fibromyalgia?- Fibromyalgia Information Foundation
"As many of the symptoms of fibromyalgia are similar to those experienced by lupus patients, there is a natural concern that the symptoms of a fibromyalgia flare could be the underlying lupus picking up steam. Ultimately, the treating physician has to make a call on these increased symptoms. In general, lupus patients who are undergoing a flare have other findings; such as evidence of true arthritis (usually with joint swelling), skin rashes, sores in their mouth, fever, hair fall or evidence of specific organ disease such as pleurisy or microscopic amounts of blood and protein in the urine. Furthermore, in active lupus, blood tests such as the sedimentation rate often become elevated, the white count (particularly the lymphocyte subset) becomes depressed and there is often an increase in the level of anti-DNA antibodies. None of these findings are a feature of fibromyalgia -- thus the distinction between a flare of fibromyalgia and a flare of lupus should not be too difficult if the problem is approached systematically."
I was also dx'd simultaneously and treated immediately for lupus based on positive ANA and high SEDs which refused to come down for several years even on meds. Medicaid wasn't paying for a new drug called Ansaid, so my doctor kept me on samples for five months. I credit him with saving my life. He also dx'd me with Hashimoto's (autoimmune thyroid) about a year later, based on radioactive iodine uptake.



My SEDs hovered between 75 and 100 for several years. I felt like my bones had been crushed and nothing touched the pain, but the Ansaid kept me functioning enough to work on my college degree.

In the years since, photosensitivity called polymorphic light eruption (PLE) was confirmed by a dermatologist, a liver condition called NASH was confirmed by an endocrinologist, and I underwent heart surgery at 38 to correct a rhythm problem that started in high school after I had measles, which I just lived with until it became unbearable. During my worst year I went through nerve fail which caused such severe dry eye (I still make only 3% moisture in one eye, confirmed by an opthamolagist) and dry mouth that I developed cavities all over my mouth. My dentist was thrilled when the moisture finally came back on, and I have had only one cavity in the years since.

I'm also positive for lyme, esptein-barr, bartonella, and CMV, plus I had the measles in high school. What doesn't kill you doesn't always make you stronger. Sometimes it makes you a puny sickie.



Why am I saying all this? Because I still have doctors asking Are you sure it's lupus? (Yeah, they're asking me.) I've never been hospitalized and managed to fake my way through 15 months on a desk job (my last job after years of more laborious jobs) without missing a day before I finally fell apart because when I was growing up, we never went to doctors. I grew up on a farm working like a dog since I was very young, pushing animals 4-8 times my size around regularly, and using my hands so hard that I'd developed carpal tunnel by the time I was in high school (recently confirmed as 'severe' by a neurologist). Then I went on to survive being thrown out of a car crash without any pain meds at all. After living with nasty trigeminal pain from damage for years, a neurologist finally dx'd me with trigeminal neuralgia.

I've come through a whole lot of thick and thin, have been through several epic health crashes, but what started turning it all around was 1- finally being dx'd with diabetes and changing my diet, and 2- slowly weaning off the handfuls of meds that kept me 'drunk' for years. AFTER THESE TWO THINGS, my liver tests finally went back into a normal range. I had elevated liver enzymes for two decades until I changed those two things. One year my liver was so sick that my doctor wanted to test me for autoimmune liver disease, but I felt too rotten to go through a long needle penetration. I still get symptoms once in awhile, so maybe I do, but it sucks so I avoid flaring it as much as possible.



Ever since I made these changes, which have taken several years (four years since the diet changes, seven years since I first started weaning off meds one by one under doctor supervision), my health has slowly but steadily improved. I have come back from being convinced death was close (using a cane and sometimes a transport chair and daily advair just to be able to breathe, and needing help dressing and bathing), to living a pretty normal life in my own home now. I still have mini flares, I still get SED spikes once in awhile, but for the most part nearly everything in my body is improving as I age after years of immobility and misery.

I still look around for tips and advice from other spoonies on rough weeks, and what I call my rough weeks are still spectacularly rough compared to non-spoonies, but to me now, they're a vast improvement over rough years.

I wrote this down in one place to give other people hope. There really is hope.

If you are a very sick and puny person and are still drinking soda pop and smoking cigarettes, you cannot get better until you stop that.

If you are a fatigued scatterbrain who enjoys a little too much pasta and dessert, you cannot get more energy until you stop that.

If you are overworked and eating salads and and torturing yourself to 'be healthy', you cannot feel healthy until you stop that. Get some real rest and more protein in your diet.



If you are buying extra makeup and putting more chemicals in your hair trying not to look bad, stop that and take a step back- do a real self assessment, prioritize some goals, make a PLAN, and spend the next 2-5 years implementing. It took you years to go to pot, it'll take a few years to come back from that.

I am a workaholic. I'm also an alcoholic (20 years dry now), a very heavy smoker (3 packs a day, 25 years off now), a codeine-benzo-caffeine addict (never cold turkey off benzos, guys, it sucks and it's dangerous, and guess how I know that), a chocoholic (a severe nut allergy popping up cures that real quick, read a few labels and laugh with me about how most of the chocolate in the world is processed in facilities also processing nuts), a sweets junkie (I'm an artist with decadent baking), ok you get the point. All that stuff piles up. And once you've overloaded, it takes years to undo damage to your immune system, your liver and kidneys, your eyes, even your brain. You can't take ginseng and improve your brain power and still do all this stuff.

There are people out there who do everything right and don't get better. Hugs to you guys, I've watched a few friends go down and I know it's really hard. There are other people out there who do everything wrong and live long lives without ever getting sick or cancer. High five on you guys, good on your magic DNA. Trade me bodies sometime. And don't gloat or feel better than other people because we all know it was the luck of the draw, and it's not like you got to pick your body before you were born.



It's not your fault. Yes, we have science and medicine now, yes, you know better than to be ingesting things and not exercising and whatnot, but just because we know this stuff doesn't mean it's your fault. 300 years ago, people died all the time and no one knew why (unless it was murder or some crazy accident). Now we know why, and basically it really is the luck of the draw- you are stuck with the DNA you were born with. Some people are prone to cancers, some prone to diabetes, some prone to autoimmune problems, whatever. You were born that way.

True story. My husband's granny lived to 102 with full blown diabetes. She avoided stuff that spiked her blood sugar. Her daughter (my husband's mother) eats bags of candy and to this day in her 80s remains completely free of diabetes. Eating sugar doesn't cause diabetes, but it will make you very sick if you have diabetes. My husband has been hovering on the brink of 'pre-diabetes' (that's such a joke, just call it what it is) for years because he's a hard worker and manages to keep his fasting glucose low enough to keep the doctor hesitating, even though he carb loads like crazy sometimes. When he does that, his heart races, and we know there is some damage going on at the cellular level, but he thinks he can get away with cheating. He's never yet been treated and he doesn't count carbs, he just works really hard.

On the other hand, I come from everyone going diabetic on my mom's side, lots of strokes and vascular disease kind of stuff, and she didn't make it to 70. I watched diabetes destroy her. She suddenly started wasting away and I thought she had cancer. She said she never felt better in her life. I don't know if that was true, because I also know her feet started going numb, and it took her months to recover properly after a simple gall bladder surgery.

I was going down way faster than my mom. Way faster. Now I'm doing much better at this age than she did. Way better.

I just want to let you guys know there really is hope, but you are the one who has to decide whether to make it possible. Whatever your diagnosis, whether they're missing something or not, even if it feels dire, you can make decisions that change how you feel down the road. Where do you want to be in five years? Make a list. Fewer headaches, maybe. Heartburn gone for good. Bladder control. Less brain fog. A little more energy. You might surprise yourself if you make a decision and stick to it. Just 5 years ago I was using a motor cart to buy groceries. Now I trot all over Walmart.

Little steps over several years add up to really big changes.



Monday, August 18, 2014

a day in the life

These are highlights. This is how blogging has helped me get through the 'brain crash', which happened in 2004 during Bell's Palsy (which is totally nontypical but may be related to being a carrier, as we shall see) and grew increasingly worse until it started getting better around 2012-13, and is still improving. Between the confusion of brain fog and memory deficit (which was a new thing to my eidetic memory), I was unable to keep things straight for a long time. Being able to go back through private blogs not only helps me remember stuff, but why I made decisions this way or that. Blogging made it possible for me to watch my progress through a plan to get healthy again, physically and mentally. It's been nearly ten years since the brain crash (first signs in Sept 2004, but puzzling because no visible signs of stroke, tumor, illness, or trauma.) Life still goes on. I'm so glad I kept a daily log because I honestly don't remember most of this until it is triggered by reading it back to myself, then I go Oh, yeah... For the curious, I'm a Lymie (first infected in high school) with Epstein Barr (from a wild mouse bite, yeah I was stupid and picked one up by the tail when I was a kid) and had a bad Bartonella infection as a kid, very ill with the measles in high school (probably responsible for surgically corrected arrhythmia years later), nasty car accident, autoimmune flare ups, severe fibromyalgia, a nasty months long systemic CMV infection in 2007, declared completely disabled in 2008, but because I'm a stubborn aspie, I'm doing everything in my power to get back off disability. It's a slow climb up a steep mountain, but I believe blogging is the key to planning, the climbing gear, if you will. They say life sucks and then you die. Well, I want my life to suck as long as possible.

August 18, 2007

  •  
         Boy.  That was a tough 5 minutes after they pulled out.  Me and Twinkles bawled our eyes out before we went back in the house.
    My sploit is off to Texas today to her new life with her fiance.  Time to start her new job, look for an apartment, get married…
    This was a small part of the loading process…  Boy, my camera is getting bad.
    Of course, the sploit wasn’t weepy one bit.  Look at that grin!  She has techno-JOY!!!!  Ok, private joke.
    It was a little early for Twinkles, but she was a real trooper, walking in the door at 6 a.m. in time for bacon and good-byes.
    Thodin.  The yucky green car that has been part of our driveway for years…  Today is probably the last day I’ll ever see Thodin again.  I think they have plans to trade it in later.  For some reason, this picture gets me more than all the rest.  I have so many memories of moving the sploit to college and back in Thodin.
    “Ready, Houston…”
    One more quickie pic of my baby….  *snif*
    Backing out…
    Now Twinkles is crashed on the couch until it’s time to go to work.  I’m feeling a weird sort of blue on my big stupid pills.  The chicken is cackling.  The dryer is going.  I am trying very hard not to think about how badly I wanted to be able to go on this caravan trip with them.
    *sigh*

August 18, 2008

  • Finally starting to feel a little more normal, yay!  Finished the antibiotic this morning.  The body spasms are quieting down.  Have been sleeping a LOT.  Just about caught up on the usual chores. 
  • Watched the Two Coreys season finale this morning, had it dvr’d.  I couldn’t believe all the pills Haim was on.  They didn’t name them all, but after dumping several other bottles, he argued to keep the vicodin (label said to take 4 a day) and the xanax.  Geez, dude.  I can barely handle 1/2 a vicodin at a time, and I have serious medical issues.  Any time I’m offered xanax and valium I turn them down, point blank.  I fear how hard I’ll work suddenly moving furniture around by myself if they knock the pain away and I have no inhibitions.  Good way for me to wind up in the ER.  You know, I never realized until I watched this season of the Two Coreys that I really am a seasoned drug abuser, under the guise of fibro and lupus.  I’ve been fighting to get off the meds for several years now, and dealing with withdrawals and the shock and recovery my body has to go through on top of being ill, and I’m convinced that the world of chronics and terminals is a serious issue of medication abuse, sponsored by pharmaceuticals, insurance, and the poor doctors caught in the middle.  When I’m on all the same medications that serious drug addicts wind up going into treatment for…  Just because I have an excuse to take them doesn’t mean it’s ok. 
  • Scoped out a few sites on epstein barr.  Good lord.  No wonder my doctor was so quick to give me that handicap tag.  I didn’t realize how complicated that one is, and it’s just one of many wrecking me up through my life.  I know I seem pretty aggressive sometimes about digging up info on stuff, but in some ways I’m still pretty naive.  Here I was apologizing to my attorney for wanting to start up a disability case last November when I was so ill I could barely stand up and walk a straight line.  I blame the Asperger’s, I guess it just takes awhile for things to process and really hit me.  I fought the disability for so long, not realizing how much support I would have had even 20 years ago.
  • Haven’t talked to my dad in nearly two weeks.  Keep thinking I should call and make sure he’s still ok with Mom’s care at the nursing home, but something in me keeps resisting.  He was calling me nearly every day and sometimes crying and angry, and I had to keep smoothing things out.  Scott’s mom is now driving herself all over creation every day, gets the boot off her broken ankle in about a week.  She has stopped calling me every day.  Well, I take that back.  She called me a few days back to ask if our land line phones were out from the rain and I said yes.  She called back the next day to ask if I’d called in to report yet and I said no.  (I’m very literal.  If she’d wanted me to do the calling, all she had to do was ask.)  Then she called me the next day about the wiring in their air conditioning, and once she found out Scott was available he started getting all the phone calls. 
  •   I don’t do phones well.  I don’t do other people’s ‘panic’ well.  I’ve had to get through so much on my own without any kind of support at all, it’s incredible.  It wears me out terribly, as an aspie, to have to handle other people’s stuff.  I feel like I’m still recovering from all that constant problem after problem after problem this last month.  On top of my own problems.

August 18, 2009

Family meeting at the nursing home set for Sept. 1st.  I have so many feelings conflicting around even just the need for this meeting.  I don’t even have to take sides to dread this.  I’m not even on a side.  I see both sides, I see that both sides have blinders on and won’t budge, and I see that it all boils down to me being the main arbitrator because I’m legally in charge of both parents.  I just wish my dad would stay home more.  He’s a good guy, but he just needs to relax and have more of a life than hanging on every breath Mom takes.  If I had known Mom would make it this long, I really should have gotten a lawyer on this years ago.  And her own private room.

Scott picked two Walmart bags of tomatoes last night, half from the big Shop of Horrors bush under my kitchen window, the other half from the bush that fell over two months ago in the flower bed.  When the coffee kicks in (not sure it this will work, the first cup wobbled me back into bed) I wanna get a cookie sheet out and roast a whole bunch to freeze back in little bags for future batches of settler’s beans and spaghetti sauce.

@ 11:30 a.m.

What a long day.  I’m in slo-mo.  It’s so bad that I wrote down that I took a pill, and 15 minutes later could have sworn I never actually took it.  Just writing it down doesn’t mean I took it… dang it.

And I can’t go back to bed because I finally wandered in there and stripped it.    It’s a good thing I’m so far ahead on food, because I don’t think I could cook a meal from scratch today.  I’d wander off in the middle of something and forget I was doing it.

 @ 1 p.m.

I’m willing to entertain the notion that I’m having some depression.  Took 4 hours to get that cookie dough mixed.  My brain shuts down completely every time I think about either 1- my next doctor appt, 2- the nursing home meeting, or 3- the disability hearing.  Ugmo.  Eating a warm cookie.  It’s helping.  Put half the dough into the freezer for another day. Watched a new episode of The Universe, they finally made a new one.  I would sure love to lose myself in just thinking about stars and galaxies. Decided to throw a good *what the heck* to the wind and threw mine and Scott’s pillows in the wash.  Scott’s is line dry only, but I’m going to throw it in the dryer anyway.  If he winds up sleeping on a ball, it might prompt him to go buy a new pillow after two years of saying he’s going to buy a new pillow.  I have no idea how old this one is, but it’s gross, and I’m tired of waiting.

August 18, 2010

  • Today is chiro and the grocery store.  This will force me to get a shower.  I’m having the hardest time getting more than 2 showers a week in this month.
    That meaty soup yesterday turned out really good.
    No brain yet this morning.  See ya.

August 18, 2011

    I scanned the crap outa the wedding book before Scott took it back this morning with our order, which is now only for show so other people ordering pix won’t think we’re awful parents, because we could easily print them out on our own photo paper now.  We’re just getting 3 pix, of the whole family, the 3 generations, and bride’s parents with the couple. As we were going through the book and noticing all the other family photos, Scott couldn’t help noticing how often *** and her current guy showed up, and how few pix we were in, and it became obvious that Twink didn’t make it clear with the photographer exactly who the family ~was~….
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My perfect bow made it in the album.

August 18, 2012

    I really think this weird bladder spasm thing is my lower back kicking off again. Been having problems with it ever since all the mess started up with Andy, then gram, then Scott’s stuff, and now I’m having trouble moving and bending again, and starting to get pains down my legs. Might have to start back weekly with chiro. Also thinking about getting back into core strength training for my spine. (retrospect edit- it did turn out to be severe fibro and was only relieved with many weeks of ASTYM therapy over several months- I can't even begin to describe the pain and the way it referred around nerve centers)

August 18, 2013

    Day 7 of norco withdrawal +_+ 
    I think the worst should be about over. Been a zinger week, nothing like going through opiate withdrawal on prednisone and round the clock benadryl. I’ve lost 3 pounds, at least. Hitting coffee a little early. 
    Tonight is utterly sleepless, only 1 1/2 hours so far. Slept real good earlier in the week, surprisingly, probably all the extra benadryl, even though I was wired to the gills. 


August 18, 2014

    *** got back home today, will probably retire now. Scott took his mom and Twink out to see him come in. *** got married Saturday, and after they were pronounced and kissed they locked light sabers. I heard her blade was red, which is Sith, lol.
    I finally got a couple of weekends off in a row, and dang if I didn’t get in my bedroom with a forklift. Got that stupid dresser and armoire OUTA there. Scott says I can have a new dresser any time now, so maybe over this next week I can finish up the piles of stuff that have been amassing again since Twink got pregnant. I’ve been using a broken drawer on the floor for at least two years. Was supposed to get a new dresser a long time ago, but Twink getting pregnant and piling in here (rather her here than some place stupid!) and then moving around and then popping the kiddo early practically on top of me having surgery, and then keeping us busy every weekend (and more) since then, this whole last year has been like riding out a string of tornadoes. We’re exhausted. Anyway, I caught a second wind and boy howdy, my bedroom is getting a very badly needed makeover.
    My nerves are quietly going into shock. Here we are again, a year later, not sure whether my blogs will disappear. Was hoping to have a little money this fall, but still not sure yet about Xanga renewing. I need to get this book wrapped up. I’m glad I didn’t meet my last two deadlines because I am really liking the conversations I’ve had about breaking it down some more, stretching it out, filling it in. Work of art. I need to do it justice. It’s not just another story being tossed out there, it’s my histoire philosophique. It’s me putting Camus and Lewis onto the same gourmet sandwich. I really do believe I can pull this off, but in the middle of all this other duress and another blog salvage…? I’ve always said I do love a challenge. My whole life has been like the Tour de France.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

blinking in the light




I have never blogged about this anywhere. I've mentioned stuff in passing, but I've never really been honest. It is really hard to be honest about stuff sometimes when you get down to the very last thing you have left.


I suppose it's kinda like a really beautiful woman suffering from a life changing deformity or something. Or maybe it's like an athlete getting a career stopping injury. With me, Scott says it's been like Flowers for Algernon, only I started out super smart in the first place.


I have an awesome brain. It has gotten me through things that crumble other people. I got through a weirdly abusive childhood and skated past depression that would have most teens going down very self destructive paths. I have gotten through some pretty rough stuff as an adult that would have most people my age at the very least addicted to something. One thing that seems to shine during some of my therapy sessions with my psychologist is that I'm able to compartmentalize all kinds of things in my head.


I had a very nasty car wreck when I was 19. I've been dealing with hiding disability problems the rest of my life. I absolutely refused to admit or acknowledge I couldn't do some things for a long time. Maybe I'd just have to do them more slowly, or find other ways to get them done. Most people have never known the pain I've lived with, or know very little of it. Even Scott didn't know how bad it was the first 15 years we were married.


Things started crumbling apart in 2004 when I got Bell's palsy really bad. It wasn't typical at all, and between that car accident and an untreated Lyme infection as a teen, it would probably have been no surprise if I'd had a better doctor. I got very sick and had to quit work quite suddenly, but the palsy itself didn't show up for two more months. I couldn't drive for 4 months after it hit, and had ongoing pain and symptoms for years after the paralysis went away.


Along with the usual glitches, like losing the ability to taste my food or smell things properly, my migraines became so severe that I prayed to go blind and deaf if only it would ease the pain in the trigeminal nerves around my face. Over several years I lost the ability to do simple math or read more than one paragraph in a book at a time. I had to completely stop watching tv for two years. I managed to keep working for two more years, finding ways to hide my growing cognitive deficiencies. I even talked to my doctor about becoming a nondriver, because I was making such poor traffic decisions that I couldn't believe I hadn't had any accidents.


Whatever was going on also impacted my immune system. I picked up every little germ and blew it way out of proportion, taking weeks and even months to get over what most people handle in a week. I started having medication reactions and had a very scary reaction during an MRI to gadolinium contrast. I became so weak I could barely walk around my house for months, and eventually suffered an injury while trying to walk across my yard and couldn't walk at all without handfuls of medications for several months.


I knew in my 20's that I might have to face CNS Lupus. I was cleared of multiple sclerosis back then, but wound up getting other labels. I've spent my adult life hiding all kinds of medical problems from everyone around me. But in 2008 it got pretty clear I can't hide this any more. They kept saying it's not lupus doing this, I don't have lesions on my nerves or brain, but no one had a clue what to do with me because all the symptoms were there.


My brain fell out. I couldn't even hide my cognitive difficulties any more. My Asperger traits that I'd managed to sort of hide throughout my life surged forward and took over. By 2009 I was granted complete disability. At the time I was deliriously thrilled that I could bawl my eyes out over that, since I hadn't been able to produce tears from onset of the Bell's palsy until around 2008, and then only a tear at a time that shot nerve pain around my face like crazy. I seriously did not cry a tear for 4 years because I couldn't. I went through eye drops like you wouldn't believe.


By 2010 I had accepted that I'd probably never get my brain back. By this time I'd been on daily steroid for months and was crashing so bad on medication problems that I started getting off everything I could. Nothing was helping the pain, nothing was making it easier to live any more, so what difference would it make? It was all I could do to drive in to see my psychologist, which is about the only time I drove at all because the pain and cognitive difficulty were so bad. Scott bought all the groceries, helped me in and out of the shower, did everything for me.


I've been through some really hard stuff in my life. People I love have died. I don't travel well and can't handle car trips and vacations. I couldn't even get out in the sun for 10 minutes without breaking out in itchy boils. I couldn't go to work, or go have lunch with friends, or enjoy holidays. But I think the hardest thing I've had to face is watching my mind shut down. It's very hard knowing how dumb you have become when you sort of vaguely remember how smart you once were. The depression finally hit me, and it was so cruel.


I know now that I didn't have to go through all that by myself. I'm learning how to use my Asperger's to solve new problems now. I have an edge a lot of people don't have. I have my brain...


I'm learning that it's not the content of my brain that makes a person really smart. What makes a person smart is adaptability, flexibility, being able to use what you've got and create workarounds. I still have a really hard time with math. I aced college algebra on my first try taking the tests with an ink pen. Now I have to use a calculator to balance my checkbook, and I still get it wrong. The govt appointed Scott to be in charge of my finances. You'd think that's a given, he's my husband, but no, that means I can't legally be held responsible to do it myself. I still get confused in traffic, and get lost in stores. But something changed, and my brain is lighting back up again.


1 Kings 19:11-13

King James Version (KJV)


11 And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake:


12 And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.


13 And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave. And, behold, there came a voice unto him, and said, What doest thou here, Elijah?


I'm not a church person. I grew up in church, but I haven't been able to sit in one for years. I didn't put that quote there because I got any kind of revelation. It was more like I finally just let go and said God, you do it, I'm too tiny and I hurt too bad and I can't. Heal me. Make me good for people, because otherwise my life has become worthless.


I can't even begin to describe the last couple of years. It's been hard, and scary, but more like being belched out of a broken mountain and thrown out onto the grass, laying there blinking in the light, moving a little at a time, sort of remembering who I am.


All the things I have made in the past on the internet was me holding on through a terrifying avalanche. What I created was not important, but that I kept creating. What I destroyed was not important, but that I accepted letting go.


What I do now is me rejoicing that I have so far survived all of this and can once again create with joy. I wonder what I can get done before I have to let go again.   Right now just sitting up in the grass seems wonderful.

So a note in passing, in case anyone ever wondered, all the bright colors on dark background on most of my websites was so *I* could see my own work.