I try to stay positive. I try to stay upbeat. I usually use humor to defuse tense situations or to deal with pain or stress. Because if I don't, I'll end up as an angry, depressed puddle of goo that nobody wants to be around. And if nobody wants to be around me, how will I have anyone to talk to? I'm like a shark- it needs to swim so it can breathe. I need to communicate with people so I can live!
In reality, sharks don't need to swim to live... but I still need people!
And look at that, I've gone off on a slight tangent and went off topic. Sort of.
Okay, here's the dealio. That's right, I said "dealio", dealio with it. The deal....io is that I have gone through another flareup related to the weather. I've been keeping an eye on the Weather Channel's website for barometric pressure changes and predictions of rain and/or temp changes.
Sidenote- I always equated watching the Weather Channel with being an old person. We joked with my parents that the first sign of aging was multiple bird feeders in the yard and Weather-Channel-watching. But it doesn't count in my case because I'm not watching the Weather Channel... I'm checking the website so I'm still cool and hip and with-it.
The kids still say that, right? "Cool"? "Hip"? "With-it"? Good, because I'd hate to be seen as some crazy old lady with too many pets and a tendency toward hoarding.
So when this flareup hit, I knew why. It doesn't change the sheer suckitude of this flareup- or "flaredown" as I once called it in a post. But it was nice to know why instead of sitting in a slumped blob in my chair and whining about the whole thing.
And this is typical- I'm in pain. I'm in more pain when I move than when I stay still. My left hip is in screaming agony and as long as I stay still, it doesn't do much more than mildly ache. Taking a deep breath in has started to ache, but not in that "Holy shit, I have bronchitis" way, more like in that "Ow, my muscles ache, why did I lift that Volvo off that baby yesterday? It wasn't even my baby. What the hell was a baby doing under a Volvo anyway?" way.
On top of the usual "widespread pain" (bloody hell, I hate those TV ads), I've got my itchy skin. That deliciously irritating itchy skin. The thousands of hairy-legged spiders all trying to burrow out of my skin through my pores. This whole "widespread pain" mixed with the itchy skin also creates that burning effect. I feel like my skin is on fire. And, to top off the fluffy frosting of fiery pain, my muscles are so sore that it feels like they're trying to escape through my skin. Actually, its more like my bones are trying to escape. Its hard to describe- I feel twitchy from it. I simultaneously feel sore and achy, like my muscles are trying to curl up into a ball and it feels like my muscles are being stretched to the point of tearing, where that "bones trying to escape" feeling comes from.
Last week, I was having a conversation with one of my faire family about various things and of course, the whiny-ass topic of my flareup came up. His reply was so nonchalant and normal... he simply said: "Pressure's changing..." and went right back into what we were originally talking about. Like this stupid disease was all normal and no big deal. I didn't ask him for help or advice or anything, he just said it so casually. Why can't every person in my life do that? Turns out the Disabled Guy thinks I'm exaggerating again. I don't know how to explain the varying degrees of pain and my varying degrees of tolerance for it. (please, don't bother suggesting things. He had a stroke almost 18 years ago, he doesn't retain information or express emotions the way normal people do). But I liked how that happened. My friend doesn't doubt my pain levels or how I deal with my pain. He just acknowledged it and moved on. It was refreshing.
I'm stuck with this stupid disease for the rest of my life. It won't kill me, but it makes me miserable and sometimes, its hard to stay positive. I ended up back in bed today, laying naked under those fleece blankets and I had a few instances where tears broke through. It would be nice to get a little sympathy from the people who live in this house. A sincere "I'm sorry you're hurting" now and then. I'm not asking for much, am I? What I usually get- if I get anything at all- is a terse: "What do you want me to do about it?" I don't expect anyone to do anything about it. Just don't treat me like I'm making it up. That's not so much, is it?
Now, to end on a high note- because I like to end with something good.
I got myself an early birthday present. The surprising thing isn't what I got, but the fact that it took a mere three days to get to me after I ordered it. I got myself a "Courtier's corset" from Damsel in this Dress. (it isn't really a "courtier's corset" in as such they wouldn't wear one like that). I love it and it looks great. I can't wait to wear it to the ren faire. (which is in about three weeks from the time I'm typing this). And since you asked (what? You didn't think I could hear you?), here's a photo of me wearing my new corset.
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