Fresh Ambition

        Occasionally I forget who I am. I get lost in the fog of the every day, and I know that something is missing, but I don't have the energy to change it.
        This is my life. But it shouldn't be.

        Last week I went to a poetry reading at a cafe. A lot of it was open mic or slam, with one featured poet. There were a lot of different styles, but they all shared the characteristic of being poems that were either intended for the stage, or paper poems made performable. This was a huge paradigm shift.

        I'm used to poetry being written for the page and the mind. Speaking, if anything, only seems to break it. As if the words formed in the mind are more beautiful than those heard. And so I never understood the purpose of reading poetry. And maybe that's the key.

         Reading poetry adds little. Performing poetry is just that, a performance art. I was never aware of the performance piece before. No one ever showed me. I'd never seen a case where poetry, by being read, was brought any more to life than it was on the page.

        But now I am, and I want to scream. I want to make my words flow somehow, despite my stutter, and I think that with practice it is certainly possible; I managed to act a memorized piece with reasonable fluency, so why not something with greater rhythm for my voice to ride along with? I want my verse to sing, to shout. I am tired of it living only in my notebooks and in the word dobs currently multiplying on my laptop.

        This is me, fighting. This is me remembering who I am and what I must do. To create, to express. Perhaps this is sheer vanity. But perhaps not... I am driven far too much towards the arts to never know.

Acceptance

        The reality is that most of what I write isn't worth sharing. This isn't a shot at me, exactly. More like a shot at my current place as a writer. And as a human being. I know that some people move through depression and, if anything, become better creators for it; I am not one of them. And yet, a small piece of me can't help but hope that there's some good to be gained by writing on my little corning of the internet. My tiny little drop in the ocean of writing out there...

          I started school again about a week ago. I had taken Spring and Summer off after a very bad semester last fall, in hopes of getting on top of my mental health. That... didn't really happen. I'm still suffering. I'm better, but not so much better that I feel secure. I will probably crash again. I will hate myself, and I will feel completely numb, and I will be in near physical pain.

          What changed is the idea that that's okay. 

          For a long time, my life has revolved around pain. Experiencing pain, avoiding pain, fighting pain, being happy because of lack of pain. But this isn't effective. If I hate myself for whatever reason, and I try to mentally argue my way out of it, I only summon more negative thoughts to back it up. It's a waste of time and energy. Avoiding with comfort food and Netflix and desperately clinging to company beyond my own mind only makes my life - and therefore my mood - worse.

          And then I can't feel much joy, because my greatest aspirations have been reduced to things to do in order to cope. My mindset is such that it seems I can't aspire to more than neutral. To not be in pain. For a long time, my greatest goal has been "stop being depressed." Somehow, that doesn't seem healthy. It doesn't seem very useful to have negative goals in the first place. The "don't"s and the "stop"s.

            I'm still sad. I'm still in pain. I still don't really believe that I have any worth, or that anyone not connected to me by blood could ever love me. But that's okay.

             Because what really matters is that I strive for those things that matter to me. That's where my energy should go, not feeling bad about being depressed, or fighting things that only seem to get stronger for being fought. This is the truth that a majority of self-help and motivational quotes and such don't get. "Think positively." "Love yourself." No.

             I'm still scared. But I know rationally that there's every reason to think that I can pull off a good semester, if I keep my wits. I know that this is where I'm meant to be. And that's really as far as I need to go. If demons keep wanting to come up claiming that I'm not good enough, that I'll fall on my face, that I'll never amount to anything no matter how much education I get... they can go yell in the corner while I do my homework.

Not-such-bullshit around depression

  There are some ideas around helping with depression that just stink of bullshit, or that seem like they can't apply, or otherwise seemed worthy of being blown off. Over the years I've had to accept that some of that thinking isn't very conducive to my well being.

          1. You can't argue yourself out of needing help. For a long time I convinced myself that seeing a shrink was pointless in my case. What I usually hear is that it "doesn't make you weak." That's not the problem though, at least it wasn't for me. I'd convinced myself that I was intelligent and self-observant, so what could they offer me? But here's the thing: intelligence and reflection doesn't go very far when the thinking is distorted, and that thinking generally doesn't feel distorted at the time. It's not about intelligence. Therapy offers help identifying and dealing with those distortions. What I still struggle with is finding a therapist who is good at their job, but in theory...

          2. Sometimes, yeah, you need to pull yourself up. You can't just will yourself out of depression, but the simple things you can will yourself to do can have an impact. It's way to easy to dwell in depression and ignore the fact that you could probably make yourself at least go hug a puppy, or step out to the patio. At least file down the edge a little. And then from there maybe you can go for a walk or do some writing... It doesn't solve the problem. But the more you do, the more accomplished you're able to feel and the more happy-making things you do, the better things are. Letting yourself stay in the doldrums does nothing good, as tempting as it may be.

          3. Smile! As fucking annoying as it is when I'm told this by other people (usually strangers who make it sound like I owe them a smile), well, smiling is a good thing. You smile, your brain thinks you must be happy. There's chemical feedback. In a mirror, it gives a mental image of you as a happier person. And of course, people like people who are happy, and social isolation does nothing to help depression. Faking is a good skill on all fronts, at least a little bit.
              I'm still trying to figure out where the happy balance point is where I'm owning my faults (not being ashamed) without letting them consume me.

           4. Self-love/belief isn't pure bull. If you expect to fail, you don't honestly try. You can't honestly push past depression if part of you thinks you deserve it (I suspect this may be where "you just like being depressed"-type accusations come from). This is the piece where I largely want to call "bullshit." How the fuck am I supposed to love myself as I am?? I hate myself for a reason. Many, actually. And yet...
             I can understand in an academic sense how this is a decent hypothesis. I would be a different person if I believed that I could do what I set my mind to. I would probably be more loving if I could believe that I was lovable in return. We have a tendency to prove ourselves right when we say we can or can't do something. Maybe the person I am right now doesn't deserve to be loved, or to be happy. Maybe. But it doesn't matter. Let's try testing the hypothesis that the version of me that loves and believes in herself is a better person, and then I can better handle the flaws that remain.

           

Just a story....

     
          The problem with using the past to predict the future is that our lives are not controlled experiments, and there are a lot of variables. There are lessons to be learned, to be sure, but we can't always predict responses and failures. People change, environments change, specific circumstances change. The most important of these is that people can change and grow.

            I've fallen more than I'd like. Fibromyalgia and drama opened the door for depression to come back, and I've not managed to beat it back again. Not entirely. I've always been mystified by it coming and going, but I think maybe there is one component I can pin down. One, or perhaps two that I see as intertwined, which I'd been told in classes for years which I always scoffed at... locus of control.

             The idea is that people who believe that things just happen to them - aka, have an external locus of control - are more prone to depression (side note: how does this work with religion being good for mood?). I always put this down, at least as applying to me, because I know damn well that the power is mostly in my hands, I just thought my hands to weak to use it. But... maybe that's not really a good argument against, because it comes out the same. If I'm not using the power that I have, then yeah, life is given free reign to push me around.

               I don't remember triggers. What I do remember is that my depression started easing last time around when I realized that being in school was a choice. That all I really had to do was make it through the semester, and then I'd be free to do whatever would be best for me, and ultimately that meant a semester off, and dance classes, and working on health....

                And then there was fatigue and illness that'd be predicted to be chronic - even more so than depression at this point - and would have me likely on antidepressants the rest of my life and still not at 100%. Then there was drama that made me feel resigned to isolation, to the point that I went through a phase of covering up my face to hide myself. I felt control and hope being taken away... and the depression flared up.

                 And I stopped doing very much to try to take control.

               I've had a problem rationalizing optimism and self love because, well, look at how much I fail! And I don't think, objectively, it's much better. Life sucks, and for the most part it sucks for reasons under my control. But it doesn't matter.

             Maybe this sounds egotistical. But let's say I don't deserve to be happy, and pursue my dreams, and go off and connect with people and generally be and feel awesome. Just for the sake of argument, because I know some part of me will try to argue that point.

            "If you are giving up on your dream…not only are you taking that gift away from yourself – you’re taking that gift away from the world.

Don’t you dare take your gift away from me." - Veronica Varlow

             I don't know if I have anything special to bring to the world, but it doesn't sit right with me to not find out. What does seem evident is that I am a better person when I am kind to myself, and hopeful, and letting myself be who I am instead of worrying constantly about fitting in. When I believe, I actually put in effort instead of - at best - putting in half-hearted attempts. 

             I owe it to the people around me to become the person I'd be if I learned to love myself and believe that I am powerful.
             
               

Vulnerable heart

        I believe in love.

        I believe in hope, and second chances, and forgiveness. I believe in the power of communication to heal, or at least help cleanse the wound. I believe in keeping my heart on my sleeve.

        I believe in fighting, and standing up, and putting effort into relationships. I believe that sometimes I have to accept that most of the effort may come from me. I believe that sometimes people don't believe as I do, and it takes them longer to open up, and that's okay.

        I believe that anyone who can't see me for who I am has no business telling me how I should feel about myself, and no business controlling my heart. I believe that sometimes I must cut ties.

       I believe that love and hope can rescue and restore you from any scope.

      I believe in staying open, even as I walk away with wounded heart. I believe that there is no pain worth closing up over. I believe, in spite of everything, that the best path I can take is to believe.

         
     

     

Heavy Lifting

 I don't really make a big deal of my "glory days." Which I hope will one day be eclipsed but anyway... if I've had glory days, I'd think it would be in high school. In marching band and winter percussion. To this day I feel a twinge of pride in the fact I marched fucking bass 5... well, technically 4, but the biggest drum in any case. Despite the fact that it was the one position that, even in our atypically feminine line, was always filled by a guy.

         Even before then percussion gave me, among other things, a certain pride in my strength. And it isn't even so much that I pride myself on being extremely strong (I'm not, really), so perhaps pride is the wrong word... I simply refused to accept the idea that "oh, you're a weak little girl, you can't do that."

        Maybe men overall have more physical strength. I'm frankly too tired at the moment to do proper research to refute or back up that common belief. But the idea that in every day tasks, it makes sense to assume that a woman can't do what a guy can? Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.

         I'm thinking about this right now because there was a heavy box that needed lifting at work. And while I was right there and it was my task, the guy I went to for help (because it should be team lifted) grabbed a little scrawny guy to assist instead of letting me. The other woman who happened to be nearby made a comment of "find a man to do it", which is almost worse. I guess it's a joke, but where do you think jokes get their humor? And then I got to deal with a tire display, and a coworker mentioned that they shouldn't be making me do that. Actually said something like "are there no guys there?" I just. Ugh.

            And, sure, maybe the guy in question was being polite, or chivalrous, or something along those lines. The (female) coworker who got mad on my behalf I certainly wouldn't get angry at, she was being protective. But what underlines this is still seems closer to sexism than anything else.

         I am a woman, that does not make me a delicate little flower. It doesn't in itself make anyone a delicate little flower, I'm not special. I'm not as strong as I'd like, especially now. But I am strong enough to do what needs doing.

         And I am tired enough of the perception that I'm not able just because I'm female that I feel like smacking everyone who acts according to that paradigm, even though it's never intended as offensive. And that's really the part that bothers me:

         No one actually says "you can't do, you're a girl." They just imply that I can't help them move something, or that a guy should have to do what I've been tasked with, or call someone in so I don't have to do work. It always sounds nice, or at worst business like. No one says it in a way that I feel like I can yell at them for.



          ....

          And then I decided that I'd go almost straight to the gym from work and go for some at least recent power lifting records. And then I crashed and ached. But the fact that I'm sick has nothing to do with missing-Y-chromosome related weakness (well, technically maybe, for some reason myalgia is far more common in women, but I digress), except that my mind tried to make that connection. One of these days I'll get better at not just ranting.

          POINT IS! I'm tired of society saying that women are inherently weaker, and shouldn't - or can't -  do heavy lifting.

New story

         I don't know the version of myself I want to become. I know traits that I admire, but this isn't really the same thing; not everything which I can appreciate would fit me. I've spent the "go explore, make mistakes, have fun" phase of my life - which I feel like should be coming to a close - wasted in some level of depression and isolation.
         
           I know this version of myself quite well, and I'm very practiced in this area. I'm good at ruminating until it's too late to actually do anything. I'm good at pushing people away, and assuming that there's just no point trying to make friends. I'm good at staying in the shadows. I know the pain and emptiness that I tend to feel, and how fleeting moments of joy are, and how I'm never able to tether dreams to the ground because, face it, they'll always be only daydreams....

            I think the last time I truly had an identity based on something healthy was when I was a "band geek." And even then, if I elaborated on that, it'd be "band geek who is severely underachieving and depressed and about as isolated as one can get within marching band." I don't know if I've ever had an identity without the negative aspects of that... can a five-year-old be said to have an identity?

           “Everything before now, before now, before now, is just a story I carry around. I guess that would apply to anybody in the world. What I need is a new story about who I am.” - Invisible Monsters, Chuck Palahniuk. 

                    Just a story, but how do I force myself to look forward to a new premise, new themes, new characters? This old story, as horrid as it is to live, is comfortable. It's what I know. 

                   A new story...

                   I am going to go back to school in fall, and in a couple years I will graduate with a neuroscience major and a minor in something artistic. I am open to the world, and growing towards being the kind of person who others look to for inspiration. I am learning to pursue my dreams, and have a dance solo performance to prepare for.  I'm outgoing, and cheerful, and confident...

                   And there are still a lot of gaps. But it's about time I kick depressive-empty-worthless-me out of the spotlight. It's time I work on a new story. 



                  What would your story be?
               

Feeling earthy

        When I do my nails, more often than not, there's some meaning between the colors I choose. A need for energy can be reflected by red polish, despair by black, a need for calmness by blue... I've occasionally wondered how uncommon this is, is this something that isn't rare but no one talks about it? Anyway.

         Today I got a mani/pedi, and it hit me that what I need isn't raw energy and passion. I've been going towards reds a lot recently, but that isn't really what I need. I need to step back and focus on a god support, positive growth. I need to get more grounded, and build myself a base on which to dance and sing and, I don't know, spin fire. Whatever. But the point is, that's where I need to focus. Natural, grounded energy.

          So instead of fire, I have toes with a dark, slightly red woody tone and dark green fingernails. I don't know if this makes any sense.

           I feel as if I've been focusing so much on my high aspirations that I've been completely avoiding the gap in between. Trying to build a fire without wood. It feels strangely empowering to recognize that. I'm not in a place to burn brightly, but I can start slowly growing.

           I can't burn yet, but there are wild and beautiful things in my future. I know it. I just have to step back, and deal with what I have, and strive to deal with now, rather than mope over my current state or dream of a distant future. I need to ground myself, and for once, that doesn't feel so bad...


(My first phalaenopsis)

           Even epiphytic, beautiful orchids need to settle into a bit of dirt and moss and whatever before they can bloom.
             

... Thinking too much is actually a thing, isn't it?

        I had some interpersonal drama explode several weeks ago. Yes, I have to be vague. It broke my heart, and it consumed my thinking for longer than it probably should have. I rationalized it by saying that I have to "process," but so much of it was just thinking in circles. It was dwelling in the pain, and repeating to myself (especially at first) that I am a horrible no good person in so many forms. I latched on, and it only hurt me further. I did need to process some, if I'd tried to ignore it I probably wouldn't gotten past the "I'm a horrible person" interpretation of what happened. That might have festered, and I might still be walking around hiding behind my hair. But I was too far on the other extreme...  I thought about it to the point of only hurting myself more. 

         I keep coming on here, but right now... writing doesn't help. Not just with drama, but with everything. Writing focuses my thoughts, and somehow right now that seems to be a bad thing. I couldn't say why, because it's not that what I sit down to write is inherently negative. It's as if my mind is telling me to knock it off. 

          Maybe there's something intelligent about my escapism. Watching netflix, spending perhaps a little too much time with my animals. I'm avoiding deep thought, and maybe that part is right. Maybe the key isn't to learn to think more or better or whatever right now... maybe what I need is to gear my "escapism" towards action instead of inaction. Distracting myself from thought with actual endeavors instead of trying to numb myself. 

           My thinking is going in countless circles with very little new insight. I need to break free. I need to explore, I need to do, I need to get more life into my existence. Pure rumination is good... but there is a limit. 

            

            (I may have started this whole blogging thing prematurely... =/  )

Managing and leading

        I had to go through a few leadership classes with band. I went through a semester program at school. Neither of those made me realize the difference in terms here. Managers are not (at least by definition) leaders. At least, not how I would see it. I took an assessment at work that's intended to see if I would be a good leader, I ranked as "competitive." It asked questions primarily about communication/diplomacy and level of authoritarian/free-reign ness, and about response to feedback. It just hit me how ridiculous this is. I've been contemplating trying to find some weird position I could take, like substitute supervisor when someone is on vacation or something, so that I could develop my leadership skills. And it finally hit me.

          My managers are just that: managers. They point fingers and go "do that." Occasionally they'll point to our bottom line, which honestly is really bad motivation, and that's as close as they get to trying to actually lead. That's not true... some of my managers show a good bit of gratitude, which counts for something. Let's see if I can remember the leadership styles/traits from last year (this isn't mine, but I honestly don't remember the original source. Here's a page that briefly discusses it though: http://www.leadershipchallenge.com/about-section-our-approach.aspx).

• Inspire a Shared Vision: Not really. There isn't much inspiration in the shared vision of lining someone's pocket way up the ladder. 
• Challenge the Process: Ha. Haha. No, this is a system of "just obey the process, stop asking questions." At least at my level, and as far as I can tell just about all levels in the store. Maybe not the main manager, but I'm pretty sure at least the first three from the bottom.
• Encourage the Heart: eh. Some of my bosses (of which I have a lot) make a point to compliment me on a job well done, are sure to pass on compliments (i.e. someone I helped out commenting on how awesome I was), and show gratitude. One of them is particularly nice and tries to be supportive, as little as she sees me, and one of them thinks it's totally awesome that I'm looking at leadership. This is something that might be roughly half and half. 
• Enable Others to Act: No. Kind of? Once in a while input is appreciated, but I never feel comfortable giving unsolicited input because it's rarely received as if my ideas are worthy of any respect. I predominately feel treated like a brainless drone. The best case I've had in this respect is being let to go without orders, which was less about trust and more about bad managing. 
• Model the Way: Sometimes. For the most part, my managers are at least decent about getting their own hands dirty if needed. But they don't model respect for the individual, or open communication, or anything else beyond the work itself.

             My managers are generally not good leaders. And if I go into this management trying to learn to be a leader, I have a feeling I'll just go even more crazy than I am  on the bottom rung. I'll be in the system, trying to play along. Maybe I'd "model the way" for other managers into trying to actually lead, but I suspect I'd get beat down instead. Granted, it's a moot point right now because I can't supervise and go to school. 

              But maybe I should attempt to be a leader from the bottom. Not in a manage-y sense, but in every other way. Daring to challenge the process when I really think it ought to be challenged, trying to inspire a sense of at least helping others and making each other a little less miserable ("vision" might go a little far).... 

               I don't know. The reality is, I want to be a leader, but I don't care to manage. I was looking at management because I thought it might force me to exercise those atrophied traits and skills... but maybe I just have to resolve to practice leadership without being forced by an official role. And yeah, I have a really crappy job. But while I'm there, I may as well try to get as much from it as I can. 

              And I want to lead. I want to become the kind of person who leads others towards achieving what greatness they are capable of.

         

Bring on the pain

        I have a stupid smile on my face. I don't know why. I have a couple of baby rats, who are adorable, are being accepted by my older ones, and are certainly happy-making... but not that happy-making.
        I woke up late enough that my medicine dose is a little late, and I feel great. I had already discussed with the doctor going off of these meds, and I'm supposed to be tapering off... but honestly, without the incentive of maybe getting better if I push through, I'm not feeling much incentive to take my poison. If my "withdrawal" from going cold turkey is feeling like running in the sunshine, and smiling, and making things... fuck it. This feels like my body saying it doesn't want any more, just stop.
         So I think I will. At least, I think that's my plan. I'll stick the bottle in my bag so that, should the symptoms get bad, I can promptly take a dose no matter where I am. This isn't a matter of being stubborn, I just don't want to take any more poison than I have to. Because it does feel like poison.

          And this isn't being replaced. Not right away at least, not directly. It will be replaced by learning how to work with my natural body. Learning how to plan my activity so that I can do the most possible without causing a flare. Learning how to nip a flare in the bud when it does start up. Learning strategies to get my sense of self-efficacy on an upward trend. If I do everything I can in that sense and still feel like my functioning could be much improved by continual medication, then I'll start playing with drugs again. But I see drugs as a secondary defense, and with a tendency to warp things and interrupt everything good and natural that I've been working on. Too many bad experiences, too little good, and too great a sense of dependency and unreal-ness inherent in such drug use.

           So I'll drop this. I predict that my fatigue will lessen, my activity will increase, and I'll end up with more pain. And I don't care. Bring it on!! If I truly have this condition, I want to face it head on.

Baby steps

        This is a truth that I guess I never entirely internalized, even though it's been thrown in my face over and over and over again. Even though I got it on an intellectual level, I never entirely felt it.
          Life isn't about the big achievements. I can never expect anything to suddenly get better. Not my attitude, not my energy levels, not my social life, nothing. No real change is going to happen over night through some intense burst of will and strength. I'm not going to wake up suddenly able to leap a thousand miles; all I can do is put one foot in front of the other foot. Baby steps.
           I keep finding myself setting these high goals and then berating myself for not meeting them. I'd go to the club (party/barbecue/whatever) and get mad at myself because I didn't magically become a socialite when I walked through the door. I'd get mad at myself for not being busy all day, even though recently I've been exhausted more often than not. And it doesn't make sense. I can't change any of this instantly, it's all a process.
            All I can do is bit by bit start feeding the better parts of me instead of the bad. Feeding good habits, reinforcing good thought patterns, etc. Feeding my creativity instead of depression for example. That's what I can do, that's where the power lies. Not setting unrealistic expectations of instant change.

No pain, no gain

        For a large part of last week, I thought I was doing pretty well. I wasn't feeling much pain, just a very slight, dull ache that I could ignore easily enough. I felt exhausted, but not in pain. But then I went to the gym, and did a very light work out (although, yay, I discovered that I can still do squats if I adjust my feet a little!)... and that ended my "good" period. I felt energetic and happy but also more tense and in pain. And then I went to work, and was miserable by the end because a fogginess set in.

          I can avoid pain if I avoid doing certain things that help make my life worth living. But I can't just be sedentary. Even if it doesn't help long-term with the pain, being unfit isn't going to help my life on the whole. I want to start hiking, I want to dance, I want to be strong.

           I can put up with pain, I just may have to be smart about timing. It would be no good to push myself until I'm totally out of commission when I'm supposed to be at work or something, but I can put up with a level of pain. I would rather suffer pain than a loss of vitality and function, or giving up on being able to enjoy movement. The cliche of "no pain, no gain," feels far more accurate than it used to (true pain is not generally a good sign), and if that remains true, I guess I'll be dealing with a good bit of pain.

Musical mood boosters (for when you feel like slapping positivity in the face)

       Sometimes when I'm in a negative mood, overly happy-cheery songs and such are extremely irritating. They seem so far from the truth that I can't connect, they only seem to highlight how low I am. There are plenty of songs that feel good because I do relate, but those can be dangerous because they help me dwell in what I'm feeling. But some songs manage to be relatable in those low points while still lifting me up...

        "Start Another Story" - Emilie Autumn
        "Yesterday will find you, where you've been before. Let the past remind you what's done. Now look for something more .... never if, only when."
       I'm still in transition, it's easy to get caught up in yesterday... in old chapters... but it's time for a new story. "One Foot in Front of the Other Foot" is another good one by her, which also deals with where things are/were being really bad and trying to move forward (although more powerfully positive and hopeful and definitely stands out among the rest of her music...).
       
         "Perpetual" - VNV Nation
         "Find it in you, raise your eyes. Look beyond the place you stand."
          This is a song that I hear as encouraging me to fight my way out of the abyss. To see the potential for greater things, and move towards them.

          "Be a Light to Yourself" - De/vision
          "But I'm not letting go, for I know you have to be a light to yourself. Be a spark in the dark. Shine and be a light to yourself. Watch me glow."
          Definitely not a happy song, but a reminder that sitting around waiting for someone or something else to light the way doesn't work so well... and implies the ability to "be a light."
       
           "Last Light" - VNV Nation
           "Seek no more for hollow answers. Answers that lay within you all along."
            Somehow this song strikes me as affirmation-y without setting off my "positive bullshit" reflex.

       

       
           "

        It's been a bad little while, hence the relative silence. I've been too exhausted or in pain most of the time to be positive and pleasant. I don't have the energy to keep the feelings of emptiness and despair from coming in all too often. There is reason to hope, and honestly maybe I should be proud of myself for not breaking down more completely, all things considered. But I'm not even doing well enough to write a decent post, I thought I could, but by the time I started writing it had drained away.

         So that's why I'm not posting much. I refuse to let this devolve into the kind of miserable drivel I wrote in high school... even if that means never making a set schedule, because forcing myself into a better writing state of mind is not a current skill.

        I just found a survey that suggests that exercise is actually more commonly a negative thing for fibromyalgia. -_- There are also articles talking about exercise causing "flares." I think I give up researching. I give up trying to collect general treatment strategies. Not because the research disagrees with me, but because it disagrees with itself... I've seen at least as many sources that say exercise is a must.

         All I can do is experiment. Heat seems to be beneficial, so I got an electric blanket, and I feel like I'm waking up more refreshed now. While it's hard to start, dancing leaves me feeling no pain (except perhaps normal burn from working certain muscles). These kinds of things seem more useful for me than looking at what has or hasn't worked for other people. Still worth looking for ideas, but not for effectiveness.

        Well, it's been a week, and I'm still trying to come to terms with what's going on. With potentially having a chronic illness. I'd be looking at support groups and stuff, except... I feel like doing that could backfire. I feel like that kind of action could give it more power because I'm saying "I identify with this illness, let's find other people who share that." Instead of saying, for example, "I'm a dancer, fuck that, I'm going to put my effort into finding people who help that side of me grow." 

          I'm back to testing the waters. This has taken a huge toll on how active I can apparently be, so I'm having to take huge steps back to figure out where my new baseline is so I can work accordingly. Things like massage might be a higher financial priority for me now, and invested in an electric blanket (aka giant heating pad) for the first time. And maybe I have to be okay going at a slower pace, at least for a while,physically anyway. 

          But what I'm NOT doing is accepting a sedentary life style, because I want to move and I want to dance and I want to be otherwise healthy. I'm NOT giving up on dancing. I'm NOT going to fucking identify myself by another fucking illness because I know how fucking well that turns out. 

          .... and honestly, I've not been doing crap for the past while. Maybe it's because on some level I feel like there's no point, I don't know, I feel like my body crapped out on me in response to me treating it right. I feel quite drained, empty almost. And maybe that makes sense. But it's also time to start pulling things together again.

Not giving up

        So last week, I moved up to the next level of belly dancing (well, the "not-completely-beginning" level). This group is slowly working on a routine instead of just isolated moves. So, I was standing in a bit of a pose, waiting for music...

       And my mind went back to standing facing the back wall of a gym, cymbals on my hands, aware of the people forming a circle with me even though my head was down... waiting. That emotion, that space. That vibe. Nothing else existed. I don't know how to describe it to anyone who didn't know it. But. Let's just say that my marching days were filled with stress and anxiety and blood and tears and frustration... and I still think is was definitely a net positive.

         I need to move, I need to perform, I need to create. This touches too deep inside me to ignore.

         And if it means I risk causing a "flare" of pain by not taking it easy enough, so be it. I can't not do this. There is too much joy to be had in moving my body. It is too good a means of expression. My body will just have to readapt, and I may have to take it a little slower, but I'm not giving up. If this is something I'm gonna have to deal with, I wanna be one of those people where you find out they have such-and-such issue and you're surprised.

        There isn't much use in suffering over suffering. There's a big difference between whining about the cold (even if only internally) and frantically trying to get to shelter as fast as possible, and accepting a bit of chill and being okay with it. The experience of cold is there regardless, but you cut off the emotional response that blows it up about 10 times worse.

         I'm thinking about this now because yesterday I got a tentative diagnoses of fibromyalgia. It's too early to say, but the doctor thinks that's what the symptoms so far point to. I'm having a hard time with the concept that what I've been experiencing might be chronic, might affect the quality of my life instead of just being annoying for a little while. Far as I can tell, the biggest reason it isn't certain is because, well, it still has time to turn out to be a virus taking it's sweet time totally leaving, or something. If it's fibromyalgia, it's chronic with not a good chance of getting better.

         I'm not doing too well with this. I know that far worse things happen, but that doesn't mean that this doesn't kinda really suck.

          HOWEVER

          All I'm doing in stressing about it and wondering if it's going to lower the quality of my life is giving it power. Whether what I'm dealing with turns out to be fibromyalgia or something more short term... I'm developing a habit of letting pain stop me. I'm coming into this with enough defeatist tendencies that what I'm essentially telling myself is that this pain can control me. It makes me want to give up on many of my dreams: health because I can't exercise as I'd like, dance, relationships, actually doing anything with my life because I'm too sapped from the pain and fatigue...

          I'm not doing myself any favors. I need to block this automatic thinking before it get ingrained any more. I can be strong. I can learn to shut off the emotional pain response a little better. Doing what I want (exercise) supposedly improves the chances of it getting better....

          I've lived under the shadow of depression too fucking long. I'm not letting another illness lay waste to years of my life. If I must suffer, I will be do so while being otherwise awesome.

Breaking my non-doctor-going streak.... in the name of art.

        Yay! I get to borrow the one helpful-looking blogging book I found from the library! Maybe I can actually get this off the ground and in a better direction. =D Or, you know, a direction at all.

         Anyway. I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon. After two weeks of feeling slightly sick and having my muscles ache too much for to want to dance (let alone weight lift and run and other things that help me actually dance well), I finally broke down and called the doctor. I pretty much avoid this whenever possible. It took years for me to go in for depression, I've not gone due to more physical illness since I got strep in 6th grade. It doesn't help that I've learned not to really trust doctors, between bullshit regarding mental illness and even more bullshit in regards to nutrition.

          I probably still would be sticking it out, but well... I have a performance in a little over 2 weeks. I have a feeling this is going to be laughable, but considering I'll have that insecurity no matter how long I wait, I have no intention of changing that intention. I need to get my muscles working right so I can practice and move well. I can't just let it keep going hoping it'll go away.

          Art > just not being in pain.