Another gay teen has committed suicide, at least in part due to bullying. Jamey Rodemeyer was subjected to online harassment such as: " JAMIE IS STUPID, GAY, FAT ANND UGLY. HE MUST DIE!" and "I wouldn't care if you died. No one would. So just do it :) It would make everyone WAY more happier!"
How is this happening? Bullying isn't exactly a new problem. I went through some fairly significant harassment as a kid, although it had nothing to do with my sexuality. But this is so vicious. I can't imagine any reason, any justification for telling someone to go kill themselves. Where is the human decency? It takes purpose and energy to be this horrible. These aren't careless statements. It's not dragging someone else down to make yourself feel better. This is just evil.
What can be done about this? How do you stop the evil? I suspect it's going to take updating laws to hold people responsible for their online behavior. That takes time and probably won't help the next Jamey Rodemeyer, who is being harassed right this minute. The only thing I can think of that can make a difference right now is to support, with your money and your time, the various anti-bullying and gay-support groups out there. The Trevor Project is a national organization specifically working on the problem of gay teen suicide. GLAAD and PFLAG are working on all kinds of issues in the gay community. There are also lots of local organizations. ALSO Out Youth is a group in Sarasota, FL that is doing good work with teens and could really use your support. And the Gay & Lesbian Youth Services of Western New York is the group in Jamey Rodemeyer's hometown.
If you've got other ideas about how to fix this problem, please share them. Because something must be done. And if there's a group in your area doing good work with at risk teens, please spread the word. These groups need all the support they can get.
I don't remember if I told you this or not (I started to write a post about it, fairly sure that I never finished), but I'm taking one of Lani's writing classes, Making Magic. Last week we worked on soundtracks, this week we're doing collages. I'm not visually artistic, so I'm struggling a bit. (Well, except for knitting, but that's more about following a pattern and mastering the mechanics. You're on your own with collage.)
I'm supposed to be picking placeholders-- pictures of people, often actors, who represent the characters. Sometimes it's the look, sometimes it's about the attitude or personality. Whatever you need to help you make that person real in your head, until they take over and become their own person. (People who've done much in the way of fiction writing will know what I mean.)
One of my characters, Ethan, is coming in pretty strong for me right now. This is his story, told from his point of view. He had this great boyfriend who dumped him suddenly right before Christmas, and he can't get over it. He's bitter. He doesn't understand why. And now Christmas is coming around again, and so is the ex. My big problem with Ethan is that I can't settle on what he looks like. He's kind of an amorphous blob at the moment. He shifts every time I look too close. I can feel what he's feeling and know what he's thinking, but he won't let me see his face.
I have an image for the ex. He's a pilot, I think. I don't know what his name is yet. So far he's been Dave, Dan, and Brad. None of them fit. So I'm just going to keep playing the "what name pops into my mind first" game periodically, and see what else comes up. My biggest problem with Dave/Dan/Brad is that I don't know what is motivating him. He basically walked out on Ethan, completely gone, out of his life, a couple days before Christmas. Why? What made him do that? As far as Ethan is concerned, it was a douchey thing to do. I know Dave/Dan/Brad had a reason for behaving that way. It's got to be realistic, understandable, and redeemable. Because I want these two guys together again. But I don't know what the reason is.
What could make someone walk out on a relationship so suddenly? What would make them change their mind a year later? In my mind it feels like commitment phobia. But does anyone want a hero who walks away utterly, no contact at all, and then appears a year later and says he wants you back? How do you justify it? How do you forgive it?
I did have one big revelation today. It has to do with the structure of the story. The first part is unquestionably Ethan's. He's a teacher, so the story starts off at the beginning of the school year. As the school year progresses, he finds himself rehashing the relationship. Remembering the good times, re-examining those moments that might have been warning signs of what was to come. Because he was really hit out of the blue when Dave/Dan/Brad walked away. As we get closer to Christmas and the one year anniversary of the break up, Ethan gets madder. The story ends with Dave/Dan/Brad knocking on the door a year after he left. (You can play with stuff like this in m/m. There's a lot more flexibility. But it would never fly in mainstream romance.)
The second part of the story picks up from there. It's all told from Dave/Dan/Brad's point of view. (I really need to get a name for this guy.) It will also cover two parallel time lines, his build up to walking out a year ago and his present struggle to get Ethan to take him back, with a little dash of how much he missed him after walking out.
So for the immediate future, I'm not too bad. Ethan's story is first, and while I can't see him very well, I can feel him. My biggest concern is that without knowing for sure what's going on with the Other Guy (I just can't type that list of names again-- it's getting depressing), I can't layer it in at all. But then, Ethan is also clueless about what happened, so maybe it's not too bad. More a question of whether or not I want to clue the reader in before Ethan figures everything out. (That balance between letting the reader feel smart for figuring it out without making the character look dumb for not figuring it out.)
So. Thoughts? Why do people just get up and walk out one day, and what changes inside to let them come back?
There are many subjects I've addressed on this blog that have had certain readers reaching for the brain bleach. My hemorrhoids. Farkle the Friendly Carbuncle. Probably some other stuff that's not coming to mind at the moment. But there's one thing I haven't addressed: sex.
That's hard for me. Although you may doubt this considering some of the other things I've chosen to share, I really am a very private person. I have a hard time putting myself out there, expressing my desires, and I think it's the biggest reason why at 36 I still have limited relationship experience. I hide it all behind a wall, and I've been told that reserve can be pretty intimidating. That boggles my mind, because I often feel too intimidated to reach out. (Actually, that bit crosses over into platonic relationships. It's scary for me sometimes even to hold a hand out in friendship. Once I push through that self-imposed barrier I usually do OK. But making first contact is *hard*. And it's almost as hard to reach out a second time if for some reason communication peters off.)
I'm not quite sure how I ended up on that tangent. That's not where I was heading with this. I guess maybe I just wanted to say that this is an area that I'm not the most comfortable getting personal about.
My current situation-- disabled, mid-thirties, living with puritanical parents-- doesn't make having a sex life easy, even the kind that doesn't require a partner. It's a pretty neglected area of my life.
The last few days have been unusual to say the least. In the normal run of things I leave the house about once a month. In the last three days I've been to Michaels, Hobby Lobby (twice), Meijer, the vet, my brother's house (briefly), Buca di Beppo to pick up dinner, and then Mom's birthday dinner at home last night. By the time my brother and sister-in-law left around 10 I was completely exhausted and in major pain.
And then I got online. I got a wild hair and wandered over to a personals site that I poke around at every once in a while. I had a couple of lovely, raunchy conversations, and by the time I logged off I was a new woman. I was relaxed. I felt good, with far less pain than I'd had in days. My feel good still isn't normal. If I think about it I realize that I have a low-level, nagging headache, and my body still hurts. But the change is amazing.
I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here. Maybe I just needed to tell someone how wonderful this was. Maybe I need to start cracking open this part of my life. It's not something that I plan to go into intimate detail about. But just acknowledging that I have sexual desires instead of keeping it all locked down tight feels like a good first step. It helps that I still feel, for me, fucking fantastic.
I've got a friend who is scheduled to pop sometime in October. She's been on bedrest for a while now, and she had to see the doctor today for possible preeclampsia. (For anyone unfamiliar with pregnancy stuff, that's not good.) I was very happy to hear just a little bit ago that the baby is a-ok. They are talking about inducing her on the 27th, but the doc thinks the baby may come sooner.
Oh, lawsy. I'm going to have to get it in gear if I'm going to get my gift to the baby before she arrives. We call her mama Diva, and it surprises me not at all that her Sweet Pea is looking to make a grand entrance.
I got an email from my sister-in-law late this evening. She's invited me to join a Bible study that starts tomorrow. Oh, lawsy. I want to be social. I appreciate the invitation and that she wants to include me. But a once a week Bible study is pretty much the exact last thing I want to do.
Suggestion on this one would be much appreciated. Do I politely decline the first away-from-the-rest-of-the-family overture from her, or do I say yes and spend 2 hours a week for the next month studying something I'm actively resistant to learning?
Wednesday is my mother's birthday. Got an email from Amazon. Estimated delivery date on her present is Thursday. Oh, lawsy.
This morning I went out for the first time in a month to check out craft supplies for the collage I'm supposed to be making for my writing class. First place I go is Michaels, with 50% off coupons in hand. I can't find a single thing I'm looking for, and every single employee is in a staff meeting at the back of the store, so I can't find anyone to help me. Oh, lawsy.
So I slog next door to Hobby Lobby, where they have exactly what I want, well organized and all in the same section, and multiple staff members in the aisles, ready to help me find stuff. I spent some money, got exactly what I wanted, and got out. But not before becoming completely exhausted and overheated. Oh. lawsy. Too much. Next time I'm skipping Michaels, I don't care how good the coupons are.
I've been making pretty good progress on my shawl, and I got my dad to take a picture of it this evening. (Still haven't found my camera.)
It starts really small in the middle (in the pink section) and grows by a couple of stitches every other row. At this point there are too many stitches to stretch it out on the cord and let you get a good look. But the pattern makes it wavy-- it's called feather & fan-- it's not because it's all crunched up
This is the result of my first, slightly larger than fist-sized, ball of yarn. I spent a good chunk of yesterday afternoon and evening winding two more, and here's the result:
My giant balls!
It's hard to tell, because there's nothing to give you a sense of scale. But these are approximately the size of large grapefruit. And the yarn is sock yarn, also known as fingering weight. That's much thicker than thread, but on the finer end for yarn. Which means that there's a hell of a lot of yardage in each ball. I don't think that there's enough here to finish my shawl (I want the long edge, the wing span if you will, to be 5'7), but it should probably keep me knitting for a week and a half to two weeks. And then it will be time to wind more balls.
Balls!
Oh, and the lip balm of the day is Peacock Puffs. That translates to lime, blueberry, and cake flavor. (I always have to look that one up.)
OK, as much as I enjoy rubbernecking, it's time to attempt to be A Better Person again. So I decided it was time to do another post about things that are making me happy right now. We haven't had one of those lately, and I have more reason to be happy than I have in a while.
The first thing that's making me happy right now is I Am a Paleontologist by They Might Be Giants. Someone is using it in a commercial right now, and it makes me want to boogie every time I hear it.
Something else that had me whooping and bouncing on the bed recently was Monday night's episode of The Closer. Captain Raydor (Mary McDonnell) was first presented in the show as a nemesis to Brenda. Then she shifted to an unlikely ally. This season she's been revealed to be a pretty valuable supporter, even if Brenda doesn't always know it. (Chief Pope can seriously bite me.)
Anyway, I loved seeing Raydor lead that chase last night. And then when she whips out that shotgun? Whoa, momma. You go girl! Definitely one of the most badass moments of the series so far. And I absolutely loved the look Tao gave her as she was walking away.
If you haven't ever watched The Closer, and you at all enjoy cop shows, I suggest you do what I did a few years ago and rent season one. It's a fantastic series, and well worth watching. (Although I'm bummed that this is the last season.)
Happy Thing #3 is that it's looking like I've got at least a little bit of my knitting mojo back! I hadn't touched the needles in months, until this past weekend. I poked around on Rav until I found a pattern that looked promising (of course I changed my mind and did something different when the needles actually kissed yarn), and then I hauled out all my sock yarn scrap. Y'all, I have a boat load of sock yarn scrap. Three big, overflowing bags of the stuff, and then some.
I sorted out all the scrap, and most of it was sufficiently bright. So then I sat and watched TV and wound a ginormous ball of scrap yarn, tying on a new color when I came to the end of each scrap. This thing was easily half again the size of my fist. When you consider how thin sock yarn is, that's a LOT. And then I cast on my Shawl of Many Colors. (It'll probably change names a few times, but that's what it is for the moment.)
After a couple of days, the SoMC is on row 87 or so, and growing all the time. This pattern isn't super specific. You get to a certain point and then they give you a general recipe to continue, because the size needed on something like this can vary so much, depending on who it's for an how they want to use it. I could probably stop right now and have a respectable head scarf. But I want a full size shawl, which means the wings span is equal to the height of the wearer. I'm 5'7, so I've got a ways to go. Fortunately, I'm pretty sure I've got enough sock yarn scrap to make it happen. But at some point in the not too distant future I'm going to have to start rolling another ball of yarn.
I'd planned to post a picture of this grand masterpiece, but I can't find my camera. Or the batteries that go in it. So that's going to have to wait for a day or two. By then it will be bigger and more colorful and more impressive anyway.
One more thing that I'm really excited about. There's a challenge coming up in my M/M reading group called the Quarterly Gang Bang. (Trust me, not as kinky as it sounds.) Every person who signs up picks a book for each other member, and they all pick books for you. By the time the picking is done you could have 50-60 titles on your list. The idea is to read all those books in the next quarter. The reading part doesn't actually start until October, but sign ups start on Thursday. I've been wanting to do this for MONTHS, but I felt like I needed to clear out some of the mainstream romance I'd managed to accumulate but not read in the last several years. I did get some of it read (89 out of 198 books read so far this year were non-m/m), and I hope to knock out a few more in September. And then the rest of the year will be dedicated to reading as much delicious m/m lovin' as I can handle. I even have a few holiday reads lined up already. I've been looking forward to this for a long time, and I can't wait to dive in.
So that's all the happy stuff. And I know I said I wasn't going to gossip any more, but I just have to mention that we've had our first official *flounce*! Someone who, by her own admission, left the group for a while and only recently came back, felt the need to declare us all terrible people and announce that she was leaving the group again. So there! It was kind of funny, because a) although she claimed we were all rude, her post was by far the most obnoxious one to date, and b)... oh, hell. I forget what b was. But anyway, you know you haven't had a good internet kerfluffle until someone loudly declares that they're taking their ball and going home. I suspect the whole thing will have petered out to nothing by this time tomorrow.
It was all amazingly civil for an internet dust up. If this had happened on my knitting forum there would have been a pile on, and by the time the mods stepped in the offending parties (not always the original offenders, either) would be ripped to shreds. A half dozen people would dramatically flounce (only to quietly return next week), and whoever is left when the dust settles would be quietly knitting sweaters from the remains of the deceased.
Knitters are Hardcore.
I couldn't imagine it happening in the Betties. I mean, I know it could happen anywhere, and we certainly aren't immune to petty scandals. But accusations? Histrionics? I don't see it.
Anyway, that's what's going on with me for the mo. I'll try to control myself in the future. And I'll let you know about positive developments. I'm not quite ready to say anything about them yet (besides, this post is ridiculously long already), but I'll update you when the shift from "things I intend to do" to "things I'm actively doing". Intention is important, but if you don't follow it up with action you won't get very far.
There's an online group that I follow (for the handful of people who actually read my blog-- it's not the one you're thinking of), and it's experiencing a bit of a crisis. It turns out that two very popular members have been at best misrepresenting themselves and at worst may be completely fictional. And now a third, equally popular member has just announced he's going radio silent for a while. Not that that's not a perfectly legit thing to do. Shit happens, and real life always trumps internet life. But the timing is suspicious. (And now I've discovered there is a fourth member who is supposedly related to guy number three, so if Three is a fake, Four is most assuredly one, too.)
I can hear you all now. "How does any of this make you a bad person, Becky?" It makes me a bad person because I'm enjoying the whole thing way too much.
Look, here's the deal. These three people were all wildly popular. The darlings of the group, with lots of attention heaped upon them. Two of the three posted pictures that showed them to be incredibly good looking. (It was the pictures that started the whole thing-- they were found to be a professional photographer's copyrighted work.) All three claim to be young (18-19) and in incredibly mature, loving relationships. All three are extremely articulate, sounding much more wise and mature than the typical 18 or 19 year old. All three have families who are completely accepting of their homosexuality. Only good things happen to them. Any bad things happened in the past and are straight out of an after school special.
Do you see where I'm going with all this? We're talking about teenagers who have it all figured out. (And not in that annoying, you don't know anything yet kid, teenagerish way.) Kids who have perfect lives, perfect relationships, and nothing but sunshine and rainbows in their future. There's no way that it's real. And yet a whole bunch of otherwise intelligent adults have been taken in by it. Now everyone's scrambling around, some condemning them, in the politest language possible, for lying, while others are getting progressively more upset because they see it as a whole bunch of adults ganging up on a couple of kids who made a mistake.
But the thing is, I don't think these are kids. My pet theory, and I'm starting to doubt that there will ever be any clear truth to match it up with, is that this is a big prank. I think Dudes #1 and #2 (who are supposedly a couple) are actually one person creating a story, maybe for the fun of creating a story, maybe for attention or the fun of pulling one over on a bunch of people too willing to take a story at face value. Maybe just for the hell of it. I think Dude #3 is possibly a little more on the level. I think he really is a 19 year old. I think some of what he's said is true. I think his relationship is probably an invention, possibly because he saw all the attention that Dudes #1 and #2 were getting, possibly because he's a 19 year old who desperately wishes he had that perfect relationship. If that's the case, then Dude #4 is probably a sock puppet invented to prop up the stories of Dude #3.
Other than being kind of amused by the lengths some people will go to for a bit of attention, I don't really care that they've done this. It was so obviously not the truth, or at least not the whole truth, that I have nothing invested in these people or their stories. But there are other people who do, and who are really upset about all this. (See, bad person.) I'm just hoping that the bad feelings blow over soon, because this really is a good group, if a little too willing to believe whatever random internet bs they're fed.
In completely unrelated news, Dad has been running a low grade fever all day, and now I am, too. And the lip balm flavor of the day is peppermint. Yum!
Update: Dudes #1 and #2 have admitted that they grabbed a couple of pictures off the internet and claimed them as their own and apologized. They still claim to be two 18 and 19 year old gay guys, and while they also admit that may have glossed over some things, what they have said has been true. Their supporters immediately started praising them for their courage in coming clean and admitting their mistake. A few brave souls have said (politely) that they don't believe that these guys are really guys. (It's a m/m romance community, and apparently it's not just the authors who are often secretly women in groups like this.) The supporters are now getting outraged at the skeptics, claiming that they are so guys! And anyway, they don't care if they aren't. Lots of people wander in to quote "this too shall pass" at everyone and wander back out again. I think a more apt quote at this point would be "there are none so blind as those who will not see."
Dude #3 popped back up today to say that he had a panic attack and that's why he posted yesterday that he was taking a break, although his wonderful boyfriend helped him through it, and he's considering getting some counseling, because the panic attacks have happened before. Highly dubious, although I'm still inclined to believe that there is a real 19 year old gay kid behind this one, even if a lot of what he's said about his relationship is pure fiction.
And I'm still a bad person, because I'm still sitting back with my popcorn, enjoying the whole thing.
I got a letter in the mail today from Social Security, y'all. Fully Favorable. That's government-speak for "approved". I got my Social Security.
I called the lawyer right away to let them know, and the woman I talked to said that was the fastest turn around she'd ever seen. The hearing was August 16th, and the letter was dated August 18th. I don't know what my monthly benefit will be yet (although I have a ballpark idea of what it might be based on the letter that Social Security sends out every year) or when exactly I'll get that first check. Sometime within the next 90 days hopefully. But it's just a relief to know that I'm approved and that there will be money coming eventually.
I'm... actually not feeling a whole lot right now. I was pretty certain coming out of the hearing that I would be approved, and this is just confirmation. No doubt the freak out is coming. If the government agrees that I'm disabled, I must actually be this fucking sick. (Knowing how I feel day-to-day and having the government acknowledge and accept it are two different things. Also, who said anyone's internal logic was ever consistent?) But for now, I'm good.
OK. My hearing is 36 hours away. Y'all, I am freaking the hell out. The rest of this post may be TMI, so feel free to either click away or scoot to the bottom and leave a comment, whichever you prefer.
Today was not a good day bathroom-wise. I know it's a combination of stress and the flare I experience every month. And I know it's only going to get worse over the next two days. (My hearing is naturally scheduled for the first day of my period-- my most poop-o-rific day of the month.) And for some reason my left wrist and elbow, the wrist and elbow least likely to give me a hard time, both decided to play up today. The ones on the right are slightly achy, but well within the normal range. Which means if I think about it I realize they hurt, but they aren't twinging and demanding my attention.
To add to the stress, my hearing will be not only on the first day of my period, but also on MTX day, which I occasionally refer to as Poison Day when I'm feeling grumpy about it. MTX is a chemo drug, a poison. I take it one day a week to bring my immune system down enough that it hopefully won't try to eat a hole in my insides. It's not a fun drug. It knocks me out flat-- we're talking Jr Narcoleptic time-- and frequently gives me the mother of all headaches. I'll have to be sure I pack my sunglasses, just in case. Part of me, the conniving part, thinks all this is a good thing. Let them see me at my day-to-day worst (understanding that if/when the Crohn's rages out of control I'm looking at symptoms an order of magnitude beyond that-- and probably a hospital visit). The practical side of me is thinking this is a terrible idea and wondering how I'm going to hold it together under all that stress on what will probably be my worst symptom day of the month.
For the last week I've been preparing mentally. Thinking about the questions he's likely to ask and how I might answer. I've also been mentally rehearsing interrupting the hearing to make a bathroom dash, if necessary. (I feel like I've adapted to the indignities my condition treats me to on a regular basis, but the thought of holding up legal proceedings, with all those Lawyers, because I've ohmygodgottagorightnoweverybodyoutofthepool is not a comfortable one.) Tomorrow I need to weigh myself, because they'll want a recent weight, and I need to find a letter (pretty sure I know where it is), and make sure everything I want to wear on Tuesday is clean and ready to go. And then tomorrow evening I need to take a shower and figure out some way to get some sleep and not explode from stress. And then Tuesday afternoon will be The Big Moment. Mom and Dad want to go out to eat somewhere afterwards, to celebrate I guess, even though it's very unlikely I'll get a decision at the hearing. (It will probably come in a letter in a month or two.) I think I'd rather come home to my own bathroom while my body no doubt continues to attempt to expel foods I haven't even eaten yet. Speaking of, it's about time for me to make another pit stop. Thank god that bathroom reading is accepted practice around here, or I'd be so screwed.
So anyway, that's why I'm Freaking The Fuck Out right now.
Dinner was more than 7 hours ago, and I'm still pissed off.
One of my parents' friends from Massachusetts spent the night here last night on her way to a temporary assignment in the Midwest. (This was not the problem. I met Beth in the short period where I was in Massachusetts last fall, and I really liked her.) But Beth went to the same church as Mom and Dad. After she left it kicked out a whole Open and Affirming rant from my mom that still makes me want to vomit. (It may have been the bologna sandwich I had for dinner, but I'm pretty sure it was the exclusionary, anti-LGBT crap that she was spewing.)
A little primer on the situation. The first church they attended in MA adopted an "Open and Affirming" policy within the church. Here's the language I found for this:
Sounds reasonable, right? Everyone who chooses to belong to a church should have the right to be a member and to feel welcome in their church home. Well some people, like my parents, don't see this as reasonable at all. "It's against the teachings of the Bible!" "It's against the teaching of God!" "The Bible says what the Bible says! You don't get to pick and choose!" (She says as she eats ham for dinner.) I hate to be the one to break it to you, sister, but modern Christians pretty thoroughly pick through the Bible, only following the rules that work for them. I haven't given Leviticus a read lately, nor do I plan to. But if memory serves, the anti-homo stuff is just about the only bit that people like my parents choose to follow. They don't bother with the animal sacrificing, or the "women are unclean after child birth" hoey, so why this?
Bigotry. That's the only answer I can come up with. It's infuriating. It's bad enough to know that they feel this way and still be forced to live with them. If she fixates on this, and I start getting regular anti-gay rants, I don't know how I'm going to be able to keep from giving her a piece of my mind. And I won't be able to be any more polite about it than she's been.
Over at Swagbucks (which I've pimped a few times, and yes I'm still racking up the $5 Amazon gift certificates) they've started doing a charity of the month. People can donate swagbucks (points) that they've earned through different activities on the site. Based on the number of swagbucks donated, Swagbucks will make a cash donation to the charity. This month it's the Lupus Foundation of America.
Now, I don't have Lupus (knock on wood), but I know people who do. It's an autoimmune disease, and in a way all AI's are related. An advance for one usually means an advance for all of us down the line. So in that sense this is personal for me. I'd like to see the Lupus Foundation get the biggest donation possible. Plus, the exposure is really great. Everybody knows somebody with an autoimmune disease, but not very many people understand what they are or what we go through in trying to manage our diseases. (I can't really blame the general public for being ignorant in this. Far too many doctors are completely clueless about autoimmune disease.)
If you'd like to help with this donation drive, you can sign up for Swagbucks here: http://www.swagbucks.com/refer/fibrobabe. That's my referral link. An easy way to earn swagbucks is to use their search engine when you want to do an internet search. You won't win points every time, but when you do I'll get a few kickback points. I pledge to donate any of those points to the Lupus Foundation, in addition to my regular donation. There are lots of other fast, simple, free ways to earn swagbucks. If anyone decides to sign up and wants to hear about them, I'll blog about that next.
My Social Security hearing is just less than a month away, and I'm really starting to stress out. Not because of the hearing itself, although that's scary enough. What's worrying me is the financial state of the union and how that might affect my chances.
As of this evening the Republicrats are still squabbling over the budget. If they haven't come to some sort of agreement by Aug 16 I'm afraid I'll be denied again, not out of merit, but because they can't approve anyone until the new budget is in place. In fact, since I doubt anyone considers Social Security adjudication to be a vital service, I wouldn't be surprised if my appointment was cancelled all together. And lord only knows when it would be rescheduled for.
So that's what's keeping me up at night this week. Stupid politicians who will never have to worry about where to find the money for food or medicine or anything else for the rest of their lives, fucking with mine.
Edit: And here's a little something directed to the politicians.
A couple weeks ago I got a call from my lawyer. The government has scheduled a hearing date for my Social Security appeal.
This was a pretty big surprise. The waiting list for these things is insane. I was told that it was running 18-24 months here in the Indianapolis area, and that because I moved while on the waiting list, I'd be dropped to the back of the line again. No saving your place! No cutsies! I wasn't expecting this for another year to year and a half.
I've been working my way through the system for almost two years now, and every time I get to a new level it comes with a new surge of anxiety. Fear that I won't be approved, and my financial situation will continue to be dire. Fear that I will be approved, and I'll have final, incontrovertible proof that this is happening, and that I'm really this sick.
I think that second one is the greater fear. On many levels I think I've dealt with and accepted my illness, but there are always deeper levels of denial to discover. Getting Social Security after all this time of fighting for it will make it Official. I will be a government-recognized sick person, who isn't able to work and financially take care of herself. (The irony in all this is, the minute you are approved, after years of hassle in most cases, the government starts pushing back-to-work programs at you. If you were capable of getting back to work, they never would have approved you in the first place.)
Also, I'm scared about the hearing itself. In a very literal sense I will be sitting there, allowing some stranger to judge my health and how I've handled it so far. After my first couple of doctors, who simultaneously claimed that there was nothing wrong with me and that my illness was all my fault, the thought of having someone judge me in this way is scary. And it's not just someone who wants to judge me. Lord knows there are enough of those in the world, willing to judge anyone at any time for any reason. This is someone who will judge me and then decide if I deserve the help that I know I need.
Really, the whole thing is turning me into a big fucked up ball of stress and nerves and guilt. Which of course does wonderful things for my Crohn's and Fibro.
So if you would, please get those FGBV machines rolling. That I survive the next 6 weeks or so, and that on August 16th all the SSDI judges are in a sympathetic, accepting mood.
Tonight I went to my sister-in-law's jewelry party. Now, I'm not much of a jewelry person. I have one pair of earrings and two puzzle rings that I wear all the time, and that's it. So I went to support her (it wasn't just that she was throwing a party, she's actually starting up as a rep) and to buy something for my bff, whose birthday is in early July.
I was really surprised. I found a few things that I really liked! I ordered a pair of earrings for myself and a really pretty necklace for my friend. (We rent a beach house every year, and it's become a really important thing for both of us. The necklace is silver with a cz encrusted starfish pendant. It's just perfect for her.) And there are a couple things that I'd really like, but couldn't swing right now. One was a really pretty silver ring. (And I think there are a couple more rings I'd like to have.) Another is a great big pair of hoop earrings. (I've always wanted a pair of big ol' trashy hoop earrings. Not that these are trashy, but they're headed in that direction!) And then there was a silver necklace with a pendant that says "Believe" on one side and "like there's endless possibilities" on the other. There's an optional second pendant that says "Dream" on one side and "like they will all come true" on the other.
I'd host a party to help my sister-in-law out with her new enterprise, but I don't know anyone in Indianapolis. All my friends are in Texas and online. So I was thinking I might ask her about doing a catalog party instead. Does anyone think they'd be interested in helping out my SIL launch her business by taking a look at a catalog and possibly buying a piece or two of fun, mid-range jewelry? (Nicer than Claire's, less expensive than Kay's. There is a range of prices, but a lot of the pieces I saw were around $30.) Absolutely no hard feelings if you're not interested. I just thought I'd put it out there. If you are interested let me know, and if she is cool with trying a catalog party I'll mail you one. (Prepare yourself. It's a heck of a catalog!)
A small comment on a totally different topic. The New York Assembly has approved same-sex marriage for the state of New York! Yay! I couldn't be more thrilled that very soon everyone in New York, regardless of sex or sexual orientation, will have the right to marry, and all its attendant privileges and responsibilities. Others will have more to say on this issue (and say it in a way that's both more powerful and more entertaining than I ever could), so I'm just going to say Woo Hoo! and leave it there.
Woo Hoo!
And now, to get back into a habit that has fallen by the wayside lately, the Lip Balm of The Day is: Cat Pee (I know, it sounds gross. But it's citrusy and delicious.)
Today was a very busy day. After over a week of rain outs and rescheduling, the work crew came today and replaced every window in the house. It was noisy and weird, having a half dozen strangers traipsing in and out of the house all day. But it was supposed to take two days, and they finished in one. This was an inexpressible relief to me. Also, we never got out of the 70s today, so the house stayed nice and cool while big holes were opened up all over the place. We took Trouble to "summer camp" to keep him out from under foot, and he's still there until tomorrow. Which means I get to sleep in the middle of the bed tonight! Yay me! (Trouble is a total bed hog.)
While the crew was here banging around, Mom and I went out to run errands. Mostly I sat in the car and read while she did stuff, but still. At least I left the house for a little while. The one place I did go in was Target. I needed Midol (sexy!), plus I wanted to get a sleep mask. And I discovered that Dr. Bronner's was on sale, so I bought a bucket full of soap. Dr. Bronner might have been... interesting, but his soap is good stuff. I'm less rashy now that I'm using it, and less smelly. Well, less smelly in a bad way. I get the lavender scented kind, and while it's not heavy, the scent lingers nicely.
I'm going to have to call Amazon again tomorrow about my Kindle. It's not doing anything horrendous, but it's not acting quite right, either. Last night all my content disappeared for a little while, and then it didn't want to turn off or reset. I finally got it going again, but now it's not bringing the most recently opened books to the front of the file. Which doesn't sound like a big deal, but is annoying when you've got forty books in a file and you have to page through the whole file to find the one you're looking for every time you want to read again. It's still not time to replace it, but every time it does something screwy like this, that time gets a little bit closer.
So, that's what's going on for me right now. Nothing thrilling, just the every day blah, blah, blah of life.
Some people have mad skillz when it comes to looking up stuff on the internet. I, apparently, am not one of them. I've been trying to find images to go in the collage for the Christmas story I want to write. I typed "two men in scarves kissing" into the search box, and these are some of the images I got back.
I really don't see what any of these have to do with men wearing scarves and kissing, do you? I was hoping for a romantic picture that would help spark my creativity. Instead I got Dick Cheney and a really tacky bathroom. Oy.
I know I keep saying this, and then I never do anything. But this time I really mean it. (I think.) I'm going to start writing again.
One of the m/m publishers that I've been reading a lot lately has a call out for holiday short stories and novellas. 5,000-18,000 words, due September 1st. I can do that. I just have to get into a Christmas frame of mind. To achieve this I've been listening to Christmas music. The fact that it's been in the middle 90s (a solid 15 degrees above normal for Indiana this time of year) isn't helping. But I'm going to give it the old college try.
Tomorrow I'm going to start poking around the interwebs, looking for images to inspire me, both hunky and Christmassy. If you have any favorites, please be sure to link them in the comments. I could use all the support and inspiration I can get! If I can figure out how I did the last computer collage, I'll make one and post it when it's ready. If not, I might have to resort to paper and glue stick, and then God help you if you want to see it, because I haven't the foggiest where my digital camera is. So, keep your fingers crossed that I find the collage website.
While you're crossing fingers, keep 'em crossed that I manage to get beyond the soundtrack and collage phase. 'Cause I'd really like to write this Christmas story and get it submitted! (Once I get it written and into the hands of an editor I'll start worrying about whether or not anyone actually wants to publish it.)
Oh, and since I haven't done this for a while, my lip balm of the day is the thoroughly un-Christmassy lavender lemonade.
I got a tweet today with a link to an article about Fibromyalgia. The article lists the 60 symptoms that are associated with Fibro. Let me say it again-- 60 symptoms. I think it's pretty rare for someone to have all 60, but most people with Fibro have more than one off the list. We often have many of the symptoms on this list, although the exact combo that we're experiencing at any one moment will shift.
You should take a look at the list. Some of it is irritating or just unpleasant. A few are downright scary. Many of us have more than one condition-- I have both Fibro and Crohn's Disease-- so it's a little hard to know what is causing what. For example, I have problems with hemorrhoids and everything under the Abdominal & Digestive section of the list. So when I tick off symptoms on the list, I don't even count those. And some of them are just... weird. Like "craving for carbohydrate and chocolate". Dude. I'm female. Do any of you know a woman who doesn't crave pasta and chocolate? So I don't count that one, either.
These are the 30 symptoms that I experience on a regular basis that I attribute to Fibromyalgia:
delayed reaction to physical exertion or stressful events
sweats
headaches
pain
morning stiffness
muscle twitches
runny nose
post nasal drip
earaches
ringing ears (tinnitus)
light and/or broken sleep patterns with unrefreshing sleep
fatigue
sleep starts
teeth grinding
menstrual problems
language impairments
short term memory impairment
confusion
trouble concentrating
sensitivity to odors
sensitivity to light
sensitivity to noise
night driving difficulty
sensory overload
depression
anxiety
unaccountable irritability (although I think I'm perfectly justified in feeling irritable)
bruising or scarring easily
hair loss
tissue overgrowth (specifically ingrown hairs and splitting cuticles)
I don't deal with every one of these symptoms all the time, but I do experience every single one of them at some point within a four to six week period. Any unusual exertion or stress increases the number and intensity of symptoms. And a biggie for me-- tenderness-- isn't even on the list. It's pretty common that I have to dump the cat off my lap because it hurts to much for him to sit/stand on me. Sometimes my mom will reach out and pat me as she walks by, and I'll yelp from the pain. A pat on the arm or the leg shouldn't make you hurt like that.
No one should have to live with all of this. But there are so few answers. So little is understood about this disease. Part of the problem is that Fibromyalgia research is woefully underfunded. According to this article, the government set aside $12 million dollars for Fibro research for 2011. That's nothing, a very small drop in a very large bucket. It's no wonder we don't know what causes it, and the few medications we have to treat it are only marginally effective at best.
If you find all of this as unacceptable as I do, write to your Congressman. Write to your Senator. Let them know that at least 6 million people in this country suffer (and I do mean suffer-- often silently, because many people, even doctors, don't "get" this disease) from Fibromyalgia. We need help. We need reasonable research funding, effective treatments, awareness, support. We need a light at the end of the tunnel, because let me tell you folks, there are days when it feels like the walls are closing in. We need more research, and we need it NOW.
I'm almost-- not quite, but almost-- ready to consider therapy. The thing is, I still don't want to change. And until I want things to be different, not my parents, not other people, I just don't see it being a worthwhile endeavor.
Because you see, what I want, what would make me happy, is for things to go back to the way they were before I had to move. I don't want to be in Indiana. I don't want to live with my parents. I want to have complete control over 99% of my human interaction and mostly to be left alone. Therapy can't give me my apartment in Houston back. It also can't give me a body that doesn't hurt all the time or randomly and urgently expel everything I've eaten in the last week. Which is what I want, part 2. To be rid of all this physical stuff and live a normal life at home in Houston, where I belong.
And what others want from my therapy is stuff that I decidedly do not want. Mom seems to think that therapy will make me want to spend time with her and listen to all her gossipy, whiny, repetitive stories. Yes, I used to do that. On the phone, where I could be totally ignoring her and doing something else. Can't do that so much in real life. I think therapy is also supposed to make me want to sit in the living room in the evenings and watch lots of Wheel of Fortune and the Hallmark channel. I would NEED therapy after that, y'all. I'll stick to my room and my Law & Order, CSI, and NCIS, thanks.
I'm also kind of worried about any meds this hypothetical future therapist might want to put me on. There's a strong chance that they'll clash with what I'm already on. (Fibro meds are in a similar class of drugs to a lot of anti-depressants.) I don't want to change my meds. They may not do a lot for me, but they're better than nothing, and thanks to the drug companies they're free. New meds may or may not do anything for my pain and may or may not be free. And the only other thing I've found that helps and doesn't make me violently ill is a narcotic that was pulled from the market because it was making people's hearts explode. So it's the current stuff or nothing.
Yet I know the stuff I'm doing is not normal. Hiding in my room 24/7. Only leaving the house once a month, if that. Dreading social interactions. Staying up all night and sleeping all morning. Losing track of the day, the date, friends. Reading constantly to avoid real life. I know these things aren't healthy. But they're what I want. They're the best I can do right now. And the sheer energy involved in changing any of it is overwhelming to contemplate. Especially when it's not going to get me what I really want anyway.
So that's why I haven't started therapy yet. I'm getting there, maybe. Probably. But I'm not there yet.
