Stuck

I’m at a loss.

I’m not sure I had any other options though. I’m not sure this could have played out any other way. Moving to CA with my parents was the only choice, the only option.

But I’m so boxed in. The environment is so stressful. Fighting the idea of losing my job was much less stressful to handle than this. I’m constantly under a microscope. Constantly being surveyed.

My room here is the room I came back to in the Summer between Sophomore and Junior year of high school. The room with eight crosses, multiple framed “photos” of Jesus and framed Bible verses on the walls. There are stuffed animals from my childhood on the shelves and a few photographs from “the years I didn’t care.” My closet is full of Barbies that I’m not permitted to toss. Clothing I’m not permitted to donate.

If I throw any of that away or box any up, I’ll be confronted on the lack of my “godliness.” If I keep it all up I keep all of me out. Currently this is where I sleep, but it represents no part of me. In the less “mental” way of speaking…I don’t have anywhere to put MY things with all of this around.

It’s not just the room either. I am expected to act a certain way. To respond a certain way. To mind my Christian manners. The result is silence. Speaking only when a response is necessary. No humor is allowed, at least none of MY humor which is on the WAY clean side of crass. My opinions are often shut down and seen as heathen/secular/whorish.

What did I get myself into? Did I have a choice?

Not that things are any different from when I left. I guess I grew accustomed to not being in such surroundings and I am having serious issues readapting. I feel like a terrible friend…I have nothing to say but stories of the craziness in my house. I get so caught up in my head I sometimes forget to pay attention to the happenings in my friend’s lives. And, even when I do manage to pay attention, I can’t imagine I’m much fun to be around at this point. Which is terribly sad…I like to be a good friend and I like to be fun company, it just makes things worse to know I’m not capable of such right now.

What happens when you’re this stuck? Where do you go? What do you do?

What A Weekend!

What a weekend indeed. I don’t think words can even begin to describe it. So, I won’t.

But man, it was a weekend.

I’m extremely grateful for my father. I don’t have a real job or a job making enough money. But, I am able to work for him a day a week. A day a week is more than I would be making if I worked no days each week. It doesn’t pay my bills, but I’m working on that.

If you’ve read back over the last year I’ve mentioned the potential of getting a service dog through Dogs 4 Diabetics. Finally in the next couple weeks I’ll be having my home visit!!! The review committee meets in September and I’ll know then if I’ve passed. The Fall class is full, so if I get through this last stage of my application I’ll have a dog in either March or July! I can’t believe it, I’m very excited.

My first weekend back in California my dad did a 5k walk/fundraiser with Dogs 4 Diabetics. Being that my move was so sudden and so close to the walk date I didn’t get to do much fundraising. Hopefully next year me (and my dog???) can help raise money as well as participate. If you want to check them out, it’s a really cool organization http://www.dogs4diabetics.com.

In other news, Happy Monday!

I Could…But I Won’t

Be an asshole. But I’m going to be an adult and not a total douchebag. I’m just going to say I’m not looking forward to this weekend. AND I’m having serious issues understanding people.

Part of me IS looking forward to the weekend though. I’m going out with an old friend of mine, Laura. Haven’t seen her in nearly a year. It should be a good time…and a much needed time to “let go.”

I try not to bring up religion here. It’s too controversial. BUT, here’s the thing, it doesn’t need to be. Why do so many religious people feel it’s necessary to confront others, bluntly, about their beliefs? Why do I need to explain myself? It’s not like I have some disease because I don’t go to church…I have diseases because my body hates me If we could all just respect other people’s choices and beliefs…and refrain from bluntly stating YOUR correctness and other’s incorrect beliefs…religion wouldn’t be nearly as controversial.

I’m NOT looking forward to dealing with that this weekend. I am trying to hold on to the glimmering hope that it will not turn into that. Trying to believe it’ll work out without a spotlight shining in my direction. We’ll see.

Then there’s church on Sunday. I can’t recall the last time I’ve been to this church. A church where stories about me are told from the point of view of perception, not fact. It’s a bit of pressure for one day.

That wasn’t super douchebaggy or anything, right? I hope not, I truly intended to express potential concerns. :-/

A Plan?

What better way to spend the afternoon than writing a blog? Especially when I’m not allowed to log into my email and there’s not a member in sight to currently assist.

So yesterday I did some self reflection. I’m a pretty introverted individual, so it’s a pretty common activity. Usually it happens without any focus and I allow my mind to wander. But, looking at my blog makes me sad. I hate that most of my days are bad days and I only have a good one here and there. To be honest, it seems none are truly “good” days…just days where I’m not in a million pieces and bawling. I think that’s pretty pathetic and really unpleasant.

There’s nothing that will change this situation. Nothing that will erase the last couple weeks; of me losing a job because my body hates me. It’s reality. Even if by some miracle I got my job back, it wouldn’t change that I had once lost it. I think for any diabetic it’s a fear in the back of your mind. Whether it’s cutting back hours or simply losing it completely, it sucks. All these feelings have been floating around in my brain that likes to think and analyze all too much; I’m weak, disabled, not normal, sick, etc.

Yesterday’s “evaluation” was to try and figure out what would make me feel better about this situation. What CAN I do? I can’t change what has happened, but I can do something about how I deal with all of it. I am one of those people that need to believe things have a purpose and a reason. Maybe in reality this does not inherently have a reason, but I can create one.

Most diabetes camps have a backpacking component. Kids will go out backpacking for a weekend with medical staff and counselors. What if there could be a camp program designed for outdoor activities? Diabetes can work in the wilderness…it just takes preparation and knowledge. I don’t feel there’s a strong enough presence in our world to educate diabetics on being out in the wilderness. Maybe if I could learn how to make it work and help others to learn how to make diabetes work in the outdoors, I could be okay with this. There’s an organization out in the Bay Area that offers some outdoor leadership training courses. So, I think this is what I’ll look into for now. And who knows, it could turn out swimmingly.

As Much As It Hurts

It’s reality.

Sometimes I really get on myself for being so dang depressing in my posts all the time. BUT, I post how I feel and I post what’s going on. And honesty is more important than pretending to be okay. Plus, who would really believe me if I said I was totally fine with losing my job over health, having two seemingly unconnected nerve issues in my extremities and an abundance of autoimmune issues? Come on, you can’t be 100% okay with that!

It’s not like I don’t accept the situation. I do. But it means I take one day at a time and some days are worse than others. And I try. I try to do normal things. And I try to be patient when I can’t do what I want because I feel to horrible.

So, today I’m participating in my first diabetes walk. It’s not with JDRF or ADA, it’s with Dogs4Diabetics. I’ve mentioned them before, they’re an incredible organization. They provide dogs for diabetics, who will alert you when you’re low, dropping and often times when you’re skyrocketing. Before I left for ID I was waiting to have my home visit. Sadly, I wasn’t patient enough and they called to schedule the visit my first week in Idaho. I emailed them last week in hopes of re-starting the application process again (for the THIRD time!). They haven’t gotten back to me, but they’ve been working on this walk. Plus I’m still sorting some things (like umm, what the heck is wrong with me) out with the move. But, eventually, I hope I have one of these awesome dogs. When I visited the facility for the first time and was alerted on at 70 it brought tears to my eyes. It was absolutely incredible!

And one day soon, when my friend isn’t working doubles, I’ll go drink a beer and play pool. And I’ll spend time with my sister. And I’ll get a job (which is a whole other topic). I hope that little by little as I engage in more normal activities I start to feel more like myself. I’m afraid it’ll have to be little by little though, I can’t dive right in…and if you know me I’m the diving type. I still don’t have a good handle on what things trigger me feeling so ill.

Last night I learned, 3 bites in, a pastrami sandwich with cream cheese, avocado and lettuce on a dutch crunch roll was a trigger and something I should avoid. When I was in the hospital a couple weeks ago I was talking to the nurse about how normal poop and all things stomach related are and how ridiculous it was that it’s not something to be discussed in public. So, I apologize if I gross anyone out…I promise you, it’s no less gross for me to experience it! But when I eat something that triggers, I HAVE to be near a bathroom for a good couple hours after I eat the food. Between the diarrhea and the burping up the food it’s a disaster. I think I’m in for a lesson on patience with myself. Because sometimes I’m just not going to be able to do what I want when I want. I’m trying to be fine with the idea and I know it’ll get easier once the doctors and I know what the hell is happening and why. So until then, I’ll work on this whole patience idea. I hope I’m in the clear this morning for the walk though…that would be B A D!

Happy Saturday everyone!

How I’m Not Okay

I had to email my boss back this morning. She emailed me on Thursday morning letting me know I could approve my time sheets online…and hoping I had a smooth trip back to CA.

Perhaps my response lacked tact. Perhaps I’m just pissed off and don’t care if she knows how much this has all messed me up. Either way I told her the move was terrible and is still terrible. I also told her I have two different nerve issues and they think it’s most likely crohn’s or ulcerative colitis. And I said I’d be seeing the doctor every couple weeks til the start of October. Then I told her I approved the hours and would be calling Idaho Public Television within the next couple days.

Then, I cried. And realized I’m really not okay.

I’m not okay with having no money and no source of income. I’m not okay with having all this medical stuff wrong with me. While my doctor is thrilled to have me as a patient, how many people, socially, would want to hang out with me? I mean really, I’m a mess.

There’s nothing really new happening today. No more doctor appointments and no new family drama. But it’s my first not busy day in California. I think it’s allowing me to dwell…and take everything in…aka to sit and feel sorry for myself. I know you’re not supposed to do that, but I think every once in a while you’re allowed. It’s a bad day. Tomorrow I’ll work on having a more positive attitude about everything, put on a big smile and cope better.

Doctor Day in CA

What an impressive rhyme! Man, I’m amazing.

Actually according to doctor #2 I AM amazing AND unique. Not me really, my body. It’s MY body though, so it counts as me.

Tuesday was final moving day. Wednesday was start to get my crap together day (met w/ school and got my hair cut). Thursday was DOCTOR DAY!!! It turned out to be much more of a doctor day than initially anticipated.

Living Loud

I am not a loud person. I have never been a loud person. Some people can’t hear me when I speak. I do not yell. I am a decent public speaker, but on a personal level, my volume and tone are very soft.

In addition to a soft voice, I am also a quiet person. I embrace silence. I like to hear nothing but the sound of nature. I am not one of those people who need to fill silence with noise. If I’m talking there’s usually a purpose.

California is loud. VERY loud. SO loud compared to a national forest in Idaho.

I listen to cars drive past my house ALL night long. I sat on the patio of a coffee shop and heard cars and a generator. I nearly fell apart when I heard some neighborhood dog howling and yipping mid-afternoon. I hear people yelling at each other. I hear cell phones ringing, alerting, beeping…being plain obnoxious in general. I hear people talking on said obnoxious phones. I hear TVs. I hear honking horns. It’s a LOT of noise. A lot of noise that I wasn’t hearing less than a week ago.

I am trying to get back into swimming. (Mainly because I love it and also because I need to shed my Idaho 20lbs). I used to wish you could listen to your iPod in the pool. Until today. Today I embrace the silence of being under water. No chatting, no cars, no yelling, no phones, no pets, no horns…just water moving.

Where else can I go for silence? How can I escape? All the noises almost make me feel trapped. Which in turn makes me feel like I’m a loner. But that actually sort of works out…since my closest friend lives 20 minutes away (not THAT far) and the next closest is an hour away. And, without a job, a hour is a lot of money. Also, these friends have lives, jobs, etc….something I’m seeming to lack right now.

Just because I’m sounding so damn grumpyfaced. I’m not really. I’m just tired. Not even tired; really really effing exhausted. Too exhausted to care about things I probably should consider caring about. On a more positive note though, I have a few job prospects. One is promising and I should hear pretty quickly from them. So, yay for that.

ReIntegration

Moving from a rural town of 3,122 to a suburb of around 65,000 is a major adjustment. For me, the opposite change wasn’t very hard. I loved living in a small town.

The “small” towns we’re driving through don’t feel quite so small. And I find myself wishing the car back to desolation as quickly as possible. The houses, cars and people are discomforting. It’s almost like you can’t think. And that’s IN the car.

We went to the zoo in Idaho Falls around 10A on Sunday. It was perfect. I think there were maybe 8 families, including ours, walking around. Enough people to smile and nod around and few enough to not become overwhelmed.

Saturday night we went to a brewery for dinner. First off, there were a ton of people. Secondly, the wardrobes completely threw me off. Crazy, bold, most likely considered stylish…and terribly uncomfortable. When I saw a man at the hotel breakfast Sunday morning I was comforted as I noticed he was in Carhardts. 

This brings me to another concern of integration, (the first concern was people) clothing. I do not like to be noticed. Nor have I ever been “stylish.” But I am well aware my clothing choices have been altered with life in Idaho. And, I don’t think I really want to make any changes. Perhaps when I go to work (when I get a job…) and maybe if there’s a formal event, but otherwise, meh. 

I keep questioning what I wear, it’s dumb. Firstly, as if it matters?! Secondly, why do I care what other people think? I care when I am trying to make an impression, but that’s pretty much limited to me searching for a job. What about guys? I don’t care that much; I’d rather impress a guy with my personality than my choice of apparel and if I start by wearing something uncomfortable but “cute” I’ve set a precedent. And if we’re talking looks…look at ME, not what I’m wearing. 

Yes, I will probably attempt to match. But my desire for comfort significantly outweighs my desire for style. And, I think I’ll “do” my hair instead of grasping at every stray hair to pull back into a nubby pony…once I cut my hair. Until the chop, nubby pony it is!

But then, I talked to a friend who says he thinks people DO pay attention to other people’s clothes. AND they do it not out of insecurity, but to judge. So, maybe I should care and respond accordingly? What do you think? Do you look at people to judge? Or do you look to make sure you fit in? Or do you not look at all?

Either way, I think I still plan on sporting Carhardts and Chacos…maybe even with socks.

When Leaving Is Easier Than Going

I think it’s fucked up. Hardcore. Seriously.

Leaving is supposed to be the hardest part, right? That’s what I’ve always been lead to believe.

It’s not true. Leaving was the easiest part. A few hugs, some goodbyes and a few I’ll keep in touches.

The going has been full of name calling, accusations and stress. …And we’ve only made it through day 1.

Have you ever seen The Count of Monte Cristo? You know when Jim gets sent to jail, he’s tricked into thinking he’s taking a carriage? All the while it’s plain as day it’s NOT a carriage and he’s just too naive to see it’s a jail cart. That is what I feel like. I feel like a prize moron who has just walked into a jail cart because I was too naive to see it for what it truly was.