Liver die

Alcoholic hepatitis.
My official diagnosis.

Scary, but...I did this to myself.
I was jaundice enough to look like an oompa loompa. Much of it has faded.
And as of now I am 17 days, 13 hours, and 22 minutes sober.

Be careful friends. Alcohol is not inherently bad, but I abused it.

the sound of...

Do you ever hear the silence?
I am sure there is a fancy scientific explanation, but when I am stressed it is there...not quite a buzz, not quite a hum...

My body hurts every morning. Nothing is wrong, it just...aches...I feel heavy, like I'm one of those really strong magnets, being sucked into the earth. I lie in bed, feeling my blood pulsing through me.
I might be a hypochondriac. I also have a throbbing in my right boob.

I need to fix this.
I need to be a better person.
I need to be a better friend.
I need to be an adult.

putting this here because I can't find my journal

"I live in the tension between extremes."

This will be the subtitle of my book.

I'm emotional tonight.
I am 34 and on disability because if I worked full time I'd probably end up in the hospital. Again. (unless I was an otter fluffer or cat cuddler)

I give all or nothing. I can't find normal.

way too much information

Soooo...
I have HPV. The scary strain. Two scary strains actually.
I had a colposcopy a few days ago and I have "precancerous cells."
Now I get to have a LEEP procedure...

"LEEP stands for Loop Electrosurgical Excision Procedure. It's a treatment that prevents cervical cancer. A small electrical wire loop is used to remove abnormal cells from your cervix. LEEP surgery may be performed after abnormal cells are found during a Pap test, colposcopy, or biopsy."

 This is TMI but I don't think anyone reads this anymore and I need an outlet.

CAN YOU NOT????

MEN ARE TERRIBLE.

One minute you're having a dance party, the next minute you have a[n unwanted] hand down your pants.

mentality

Being a [wannabe] artist and OCD is a weird dichotomy.

I am messy. My apartment has crap everywhere. But I need things to be straight[ish] at work. And I won't sell a piece that's not perfect.

And the trypophobia thing, which makes no sense to anyone. "Fear of holes." Why is that even a thing?? My p. doc says it's evolutionary. Frogs and stuff that were poisonous had circular patterns or something, so according to him I'd survive in the Amazon. He actually said that.
Uh, yay me?

Next up in the DRC show...

I might be sick. Really sick. What was the flu now might be effin hepatitis...???
How in hell would I get hepatitis??
My important liver levels are off the charts though.
A year ago things were normal. Now I'm facing something terrifying and I have to wait until tomorrow afternoon for more tests. I've been crying all night.

I've been on serious antidepressants, antipsychotics, etc for 18 years. Often they were prescribed by shitty doctors who didn't know what was wrong with me but were too busy/too restricted to take the time to find out. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the state of modern medicine. Mental health is overlooked until it becomes a physical problem that may not be able to be reversed.

I'm jumping to conclusions, but when a doctor throws out words like "hepatitis" and "cancer" I tend to freak out.

If it's cancer I'm moving to Cali and exercising my right to die.

what is force?

 "You're manipulating the situation in a way that gives no one a way out. That's force. Look it up."

Gilmore girls season one, episode 3 "Kill Me Now"
Totally taken out of context but this is my life right now.

Something happened, with a guy...It scared me.
I am fine, I handled it.

But emotionally I'm a little messed up. My recall is fuzzy (screw you angry orchard). On the same night I was an asshole to a guy I am lucky to call a friend. I hate myself for that. I hate that I got myself in this kind of situation.

I said no when it was time...and I physically followed through (hence my soreness). I stood up for myself. I stopped something that could have ended terribly.




I can't deal, but I'm telling everyone I'm ok. I'm a f*#king liar.
I think "call E, go sleep on her couch," but I can't. All I do is sleep.

2FAN and Polka

2nd Friday Art Night is a thing where a bunch of galleries downtown stay open late. There are exhibit openings, food and beer from locals, and my favorite...live music.

Tonight I had a freak-out. I drove past the first place I wanted to go, started crying, and kept driving. I ended up crying in a parking lot outside this museum, one I almost kinda feel comfortable in.

I went in, eventually, tucking in behind an old couple to pretend I belonged. There was a "ghost story" thing and I finally started to breathe normally.

On to my second stop. First thought: I know nothing about wine so I just pointed to the prettiest bottle and said "that one!"  Second thought: CHEESEDIPCHEESEDIPCHEESEDIP. Third thought: HL frames represent!

No thoughts after that. Just men with accordions, doing the chicken dance, and polka-ing my arse off. I chuckled the whole way back to my car (which made me look even crazier so I laughed harder).

Be a fool. Have fun. Hang out with old folks.

Story? What Story?

This article explains a lot of what I wish I could say.

"If the situation of our story is historic we may be tempted to shape the story to a presentable narrative arc with redemption and a happy ending which may not represent the reality of the problem for others." 

"While we applaud people for their bravery in sharing their personal stories, we often forget to continue to applaud their bravery for dealing with the results."

I am stuck in the in between.

I am not well, but I am not broken.

I can be paralyzed by a panic attack one day and having a dance party with my cat the next.

I can smile, interact with people, and even be funny. But the truth is, I'd rather not be alive (please understand that this is not the same as being suicidal).

This is my normal, I have trouble understanding why people are afraid to die. I lie awake at night wishing I could take the place of a mom dying of cancer.

So yeah, I want to tell my story, but it isn't finished. But I am more than my dark days.

[as are you]

Kidneys fail. People survive.

Last thursday I woke up with muscle twitches and tingling. By lunch my hands were drawn up and becoming useless. I decided to go to the quick care clinic before work. I really thought they'd just give me like a super vitamin or something and at most I'd be late clocking in. After running labs the doctor calmly told me I really needed to go to the ER.
[Naturally I went by my apartment for my phone charger first]
After more labs I was admitted for "acute kidney failure." The doctors weren't sure why this was happening but told me it was most likely reversible.
Over the next few days I was given a TON of fluids, antibiotics, and various vitamins. My kidney function improved fairly quickly and I was released yesterday evening.
From what I understand a combination of factors led to my kidney failure: infection, dehydration, low calcium and vitamin D, and medicine complications. The good news is all issues were addressed and treated and I am normal now (or normal-adjacent, because I'm still me you know).
I will have to be careful, monitor things, and generally take better care of myself, but you're stuck with me awhile longer.

[I look 12 here]

sleep is good (so I hear)

10:30pm - Lunesta #1

11:30pm - Lunesta #2

Midnight - Ativan

2:00am - over the counter sleep aid and another half of an Ativan

between 3 & 4am - sleeeeep.........



I was supposed to work a nine hour shift today...yeah, thats not happening. Lets try 5.5.

I'm not satisfied

year. in. review.

The end of a year...another year. A year I tried to ignore. To simply survive. I suppose I did that [we'll see in a few days I suppose].

My year started off on a high note with my niece seeing my name on the "Armstrongs" wall at my old gym and being pretty impressed. I think I did like 70 push-ups to get my name on that wall. To be fair, I was 12 and like 80 lbs. [Currently in early 2013 I was at my max weight due to, well, weight gain, and medicine changes that seriously added to that gain-age]

Then, for the second time ever, I ate a salad. And liked it. Thus began the year of Arby's grilled chicken, no tomatoes, with balsamic vinaigrette salads.

THEN...I decided to get a kitten, but wrecked my car instead.
A short time later, my sister was in a wreck. Despite having talked about possibly giving her car to me, my mom and dad decided to give her car to my sister. I understood...she had a proper life,Despite rolling the sucker they were able to make it drivable...just not-so-much desirable. It doesn't lock so it get's broken into fairly often and I'm quite certain it's been slept in a few times.

In April...I QUIT DR PEPPER.
To be fair, it wasn't by choice. I was prescribed a medicine that's side effect was unfortunately making carbonated beverages tastes horrible. So, after 6-7 year of guzzling this stuff, it was no longer appealing. I mean wow. Darkie Pepper, R.I.P.

The bigger news I suppose, was that I quit drinking...
     like...alcohol...
     It had gotten pretty bad. Worse than I would admit to just about anyone. And it'd been like that for awhile. The booze was behind so many of the bad decisions I'd made the past year or three. I knew it worried my mum. Maybe that was what inspired the change. I honestly don't know. One day, at 11am, instead of vodka, I decided to drink water.
This was honestly the biggest turning point in my year.
        {I didn't quit drinking entirely...just as a lifeline. I drink occasionally, on weekends...when the time is right}

But wait! I got a job!
Apparently even the " mentally interesting" are good for something...and but "something" I mean "retail."

At some point mid-summer I began taking this medicine that soldiers with PTSD take...because my dreams are so whacked.

Jars of Clay came to LR are were AMAZING.

I randomly began to puke. A stress reaction perhaps?...about 4 months later and I still don't know.

Then I hung out with the ex-boyfriend's ex-boyfriend. Confused? Just go with it...


And now?

Yeah...
About that...
I am SERIOUSLY in denial...
...about my age.
...about my "career," ha!
...about the future.
...about just about everything including who I am and who I should have been...

Most Days

ewww

You know you lead a life full of ghetto-ness when your grocery checkout girl loses a pink, blue, and silver fingernail inside your 12 pack of Dr Pepper, and you find said nail 2 weeks later.

Suppose...

As much as I'd love to be labelled as a "creative," what I'd really love is to be a "facilitator."

I am the queen of unfinished projects.  Great ideas that reach various stages of fruition but never reach that point of completion.  I'm not so vain that I think this is a problem only I have.  I'm sure there are so many other with closets, portfolios, and hard drives full of works-in-progress.

My initial thought was "Someday, when I run a gallery and frame shop I'll have specific shows featuring unfinished work.  But what if we as a community of artists gathered to hold some sort of unfinished project collective. . . A place to share ideas and inspire each other. . . Musicians, painters, knitters, poets, etc. . . All media, all stages welcome.

How can I make this happen?
Or am I the only kook with more half finished canvases than shoes?

Mr. Sandman and I are at war

I haven't slept well in nearly 2 months.  Benadryl, ativan, melatonin, klonopin, audiobooks...nothing works.  Last night I started contemplating ways to hang myself because I was so miserable and out of my mind.  I called my mom around 2am, weeping, but still no luck.  Finally I went outside, rode my bike a bit, pitched a tent and finally slept a couple hours.  Came back in around 7 and "slept" til noon.

This is not normal, and definitely not ok.

black and blue...ish...

Crafting would be much easier if I had nice and/or fun handwriting...

My knees and other less generic body parts got a beating at polo last night.


Today I rode through the neighborhood...I'm gonna miss summer.

And lasagna.

productive? why yes, I am...[rarely]

So after laying in bed, feeling sick and sorry for myself, I decided I needed to do something with my day.  The sun was shining and I took that as a sign that I needed to work on the back door.*

Of course, there's a giant ant pile** there and being allergic I decided they had to go.  I biked to Besser Hardware (love that store!) and a friendly blue haired boy helped me pick a method of mass annihilation:

While in line I noticed their door handle etc selection and also picked up this little screw in cap thingy to cover the gaping hole left by some door hardware long since removed.

So, despite "sleeping" til noon I killed ants and capped a door hole.  Yay me.
[AND I blogged!  Really, who is this girl??]

 *Last year I painted the front door and promised to do the back someday.  We've since changed landlords so who knows if my semi-shady compensation agreement still holds.

**Seriously, HUGE.  This thing is like the Shanghai of the ant world.