Wow, my blog was nominated for The Lovely Blog Award by Daily Life With Fibromyalgia. Just. Wow!
The requirements of the Award are to mention who nominated me and link back to his/her blog, display the award image anywhere on my blog, reveal 7 things that you may not know about me, nominate 15 blogs (I only did 7, I don’t read that many blogs) for the award and tell them of the nomination (linking their blogs in this post) including a link back to this post.
7 Things You Might Not Know About Me
- I used to collect ballerinas of all types
- I love seafood of all shapes, sizes and species
- I lost a bunch of weight by switching from soda to sparkling water
- I finished college in three years
- I love children’s literature
- My favorite age group to teach is preschool
- I can not spell and stump spell checkers on a regular basis
- The People Behind My Eyes
- Patient Anonymous: Just Another Head Case
- Becoming Three
- Beautiful Dreamer
- Cat vs. Human
I’m trying hard not to rant too much about the fibro here. I started a blog a while ago and I’m trying to update it a bit more often. With time I hope I can get out of rant mode and into trying to help other people mode. The diagnosis has only been official about a year, but I know it’s been going on since college and probably before.
So I just wanted to put that linky out there because I know there are a few fibro-ites who visit this blog.
I’m depressed. I don’t really have the option of seeing the doctor right now. I will have to wait until I get back to Korea. Part of it is a flare up of the Fibromyalgia. I’m in so much pain right now it hurts to type. I’m using my new tablet with it’s speech function to write this. The cats is laying on top of me and that hurts. I kick her off but she comes right back up. Yesterday, when I took my shower the water on my skin was terrible. I started back on the Gabapentin. I know it should help with this kind of nerve pain, but waiting for it to work is not fun.
This sounds horrible. I do much better when I can type. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day. If it is, then I can actually type are real blog entry. This speech thing is fun and it works pretty well. I just don’t think this way. But it is definitely handy.
I hate thunderstorms. I’m fighting serious dissociation and regression. I am afraid and I’m embarrassed.
I’ve tried for a long time to write this post. Rationally, I know it’s something I shouldn’t be embarrassed about, but I am. I feel so different than everyone else. Again, rationally I know there are other people who feel (or don’t feel as the case may be) the same way I do. I just don’t know how to go about connecting with them. I suspect for many it’s a big secret. I sometimes think it would be easier if I felt attraction for women. Or men. Or both. But I don’t. I don’t feel anything. I have no interest in the whole dating, marriage, relationship scene. If you would ask, I’d say I’d identify as asexual.
I joke around that I watch football (the American kind) just for the huddle and the tight ends. I find nothing about male butts in tight pants appealing. I feel as guilty about that as I would about trying to fit into Lesbian culture.
I used to think this was a consequence of the abuse. That it was a PTSD thing. But maybe I’m wired this way. I firmly believe sexuality is more hard wired than environmental. My brothers are of the same no relationship mindset, but they have a normal sex drive and find women attractive. I don’t judge their choices and I understand the not wanting relationships. I think those similarities are enough to point at the toxic environment we grew up in. But I’m definitely different from then. Then again, I took the brunt of the abuse, especially from male relatives.
I can hear people out there saying it’s totally understandable to feel the way I do about sex, other people and relationships. But I can’t help feeling like a freak. There are so many survivors that go on to have normal relationships, be it with the same or opposite sex. I can’t even work up the sexual energy to try to see where I might fit in on the spectrum.
I’ve looked at men of all kinds. I’ve looked at women too. But I feel nothing. It’s like there’s a huge part of me missing. Well, missing according to societal norms. Maybe I just need to learn to be a little kinder to myself and live with what God gave me. I know it’s possible to thrive in society without be married.
But honestly, I’m stuck. I’ll be moving back to Korea and I’ll have the same psychiatrist. I don’t know if I should bring it up with him or try to find an English speaking therapist (probably easier said than done). If anyone has words of wisdom, please share them. I don’t know if it came out, but this really has been bothering me for a long time.
It’s been a long time since I had an abuse flavored nightmare. And for that, I’m thankful. It made me realize how far I’ve come. What made this one all the more disturbing is that it was conjoined with “memories” of what my best friend’s funeral would have been like. The whole thing was bizarre. Besides M, I can only identify one other person, C. C and M were good friends. I was friends with C too, more so now since M’s death.
I was at M’s wake in the dream. Of course, I couldn’t really go because I was in Korea. If I had had the money, I would have gone in a heartbeat and told my boss to go fuck herself for a week. I was devastated because I wasn’t there for M. We talked on the phone and IM, but I wasn’t there for her in person through her cancer battle. And that I regret.
In my dream the whole wake turned into a three ring circus. The music was all wrong. I have a feeling I knew the priest, but I can’t put my finger on who it was. At the end, I was in a room all by myself crying. The priest came in and asked if I wanted to talk, so I started talking about M. I have a feeling the priest was really Father A from Austin, but it didn’t look like him. All he kept saying was “There’s something else you need to talk about”. I kept insisting no. Finally I was screaming at him “I don’t want to talk about my father!” And then my father walks in.
That’s where I wake up. I was sweating and shaking, on the verge of tears. I think deep down I know my therapy really isn’t finished. I’ll be heading back to Korea soon (I got a job in the city I was working before so I can keep my pdoc and rheumy). I guess I’ll try to find someone who does therapy. I won’t be starting work until 1 or so, which gives me time to see docs in the morning.
Even though it’s been hours, I’m still quite upset. My fibro pain is flaring up so I took a pain pill, which of course is making me sleepy. I think I’ll put on some mindless TV and maybe fall asleep to it even though it’s on 3:30. Not that I really want to sleep. I want my brain to shut the hell up. Maybe I should have taken some Ativan instead of the pain pill…