How I got here....

I've always wanted to write. Do something artistic with my life. I won a few places in art shows in junior and high school, including first place once thank-you-very-much, loved to write stories, even in elementary school I loved to write. But my life took another turn.

After I graduated high school and moved in with my 2nd serious boyfriend to date, I started feeling run down, tired, just plain old like shit. It started gradually... One day I was tired, then it felt like a flu that I couldn't shake, then lost muscle control. Then there were numerous, COUNTLESS, doctors over a span of months and months. Months where I spiraled further and further down the rabbit hole, where I lost the use of my legs, then arms, lost the ability to feed myself, dress myself, bathe myself, where I lost myself completely. Finally a doctor knew what was wrong with me!!!!! ONE doctor out of the 20+ doctors and specialists of every field I had gone to begging for an answer, ANY answer, as long as I knew what the hell was wrong with me. A diagnosis was made and I finally knew why I was the way I was, why I felt like I was literally dying. Unfortunately, what was handed to me was sometimes worse then a death sentence. I was told, hey, you will NEVER EVER get better and this will NEVER EVER go away! You can try some things to control the pain (which have been a joke), but hey, if you give up doing anything that rquires exertion of any kind, you might be able to stand it for a while. The doctor was at least honest about it and I learned, for the most part, what I could but mostly could NOT do any longer. What activities and chores and social things I could do and what would leave me screaming and crying in pain, so exhausted sometimes that no tears would come. My life became a balancing act;

Having the strength to wash my hair...

BUT UNABLE TO COMB OR BLOW DRY IT...

Leaving the kitchen a mess...

JUST SO I CAN MAKE THE WALK TO THE BEDROOM TO GET TO BED FOR THE NIGHT...

Letting hundreds and hundreds of dollars of groceries go bad...

BECAUSE I JUST DIDN'T HAVE THE STRENGTH TO PUT IT IN THE FRIDGE OR FREEZER WHERE IT NEEDED TO BE!

Giving up and letting go of everything I knew to be true in my life to learn this whole new life, the one where I was "sick" all the time. The new life where nothing was as it seemed, where my body would betray me over and over again, sometimes hundreds of times a day at the beginning. I would think I had it figured out and then bam! My body would seem to be saying "ah, ah ah.... Not so fast little lady! and I'd be down for the count again.

I gave up dreaming about my future so I could focus on today, on NOW, on how to get through the next day, the next hour, sometimes the next minute even. How could I think about my future when I was worried about getting thru the then and now, that moment, that time???? I felt like I would never even have a future, so why should I plan for one?

While I was worrying about this medication or that medication, my friends were partyng and having fun, being young and carefree. While I was stuck in bed, too exhausted and in too much pain to move, my friends were at the clubs dancing the night away. Before I knew it, my life had sort of passed me by. Yes, I live with J and we have a beautiful, smart and funny 6 year old little boy who I wouldn't trade for any amount of money in the world, except maybe when he's slammin his bedroom door when he's pissed off... lol But I still feel like something is missing. Like life was this big cruise ship and everyone but me is on it. I'm running down the dock to make it to the ship before it pulls away and right as I get to the edge, the ship is sailing away and everyone on it is waving good bye to me.

Those are my musings for the night I guess. It's now almost 12:30 AM and I'm probably starting to make less and less sense as I ramble on and on but hey, that's me at my best. I hope everyone has a good night!