Cranky Fibro Girl

Harnessing the healing power of snark

This Has Kind Of Been The Theme Of My Past Week

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(my trainer, raising the incline level from 0 to 7 (!!) on the treadmill yesterday for a little interval training)

“I’m gonna raise your cardio if it kills me. Or you. Whichever comes first.”

And my trainer is not the only thing that’s been kicking my ass lately.

I’ve spent the past year doing tons of internal work to clear up a lot of the stuff surrounding my depression and decrease my medication. So I arrived at a really good place only to find that my depression had been masking some huge, intense, and at times, paralyzing anxiety.

So I’ve pretty much spent the past week just wanting to punch life right in the face, along with trying very hard not to peel off all my skin and leave my body. Needless to say, that hasn’t left a lot of time or energy for the funny.

What doesn’t kill you may make you stronger, but before it does that it sure as hell puts you through the wringer.

Waking Up (This Is A Long One)

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Every week my friend and fab-o-rama coach, Lynne pulls a Tarot card or a rune for the week, to give us readers something to think about or to explain why certain issues might be “up” for us. This week’s was quite a doozie but I knew exactly what it was talking about, because it pretty much sums up what this past year has been like for me. You can read the entire text at her blog; I’ve excerpted the parts that were particularly applicable to my experience here.

“The role of Nauthiz is to identify our shadow, our dark or repressed side, places where growth has been stunted, resulting in weaknesses that are often projected onto others.”

“This is a time to pay off old debts, to restore, if not harmony, at least balance.”

“When something within you is disowned, that which is disowned wreaks havoc. A cleansing is required here; in undertaking it, you will fund a will and strengthen character.”

“Thus you are required to undergo the dark side of your passage and bring it into the light.”

Yup, that pretty much sums it up quite nicely. But as you know, if you’ve ever gone racketing around in your own unconscious for an extended period of time, there’s a b-i-g difference between reading these words on a page and actually undergoing the process. A difference which I think can best be expressed by the phrase HOLY. F&%@!!

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Does This Still Count As Using My Powers For Good?

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Lately I’ve been having a lot of fun playing around on Facebook. I love pimping out my profile with pictures of LOL Cats, badges from my favorite TV shows, and my stats as a Pirate sailing the cyber seas.

But I’ve made a few missteps too, such as declining an invitation from a friend who wanted to turn me into a zombie. Call me crazy but I’m kind of attached to my soul, and I’m really not that keen on becoming a minion of the undead.

Apparently it’s unwise to anger the undead however, because in response to my deciding to maintain my status as a human being my friend dedicated a song to me. And now, prominently displayed on my Facebook profile is the phrase, “Detachable Penis.”

I wasn’t really sure how to react to that, but one of my new friends was very excited. “How could I miss out on adding a friend who has “Detachable Penis” playing?” she asked. “If it weren’t for you, I’d not know this tune existed… and that would be wrong.”

On the one hand I thought, “Cool. Even though I’m in the metaphorical desert, I’m glad to see that I’m still using my powers for good.” And on the other hand I thought, “Hm, how interesting that now this is the kind of thing I’m known for.”

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I Don’t Know What To Say

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I guess none of us really know what to say about what happened this week at Virginia Tech. But we feel like we ought to say something, so we do the best we can.

I’ve always felt a connection to the state of Virginia. I was born in Alexandria, grew up in Woodbridge, and went to school in Dale City for the first 13 years of my life. But then, 2 months before I turned 13 and right before I was to start the 8th grade, my family moved to North Carolina. This was, absolutely, The End Of The World As I Knew It.

I did not do a very good job of dealing with this change. To give myself credit I was only 13, and I had just left the only life I’d ever known. And, as it turned out, I had depression that went undiagnosed until I was 21.

Unfortunately the only way I knew how to deal with my misery was to take it out on everyone around me. I never hurt anyone physically, but I’m pretty sure I wounded a lot of people with my words and my attitude. I was angry. Hostile. Nasty. Judgmental. Intolerant. Self-righteous. I’d left a church school to come to a private, non-religious school, and left a more Northern culture only to find myself smack dab in the middle of all things Southern. So you’d better believe I took every opportunity I could find to look down upon all those “stupid Southern sinners” I suddenly found myself surrounded by.

Needles to say, I was not a very nice person to be around. And the people around me responded by not being very nice back.

I think things would have been A Lot worse if it hadn’t been for the people who were able to look past the fact that the only way I knew how to take care of myself and get my needs met was by being a jerk, and who chose to reach out and offer to help me.

And in light of what happened this week at VA Tech, I decided it was time for me to say thank you to all these people who made such a difference in that totally freaked out teenager’s life.

-my friends Liz, Julie, Kacey, and Kelly, and their parents, for giving me someone to talk to and somewhere safe and friendly to go

-Robyn, who was also a new student in the 8th grade, who took the time to notice that I was not handling things well and to tell me that she thought I needed to get some help

-my teachers, Miss Minnick, Mrs. Skidmore, Mrs. Ayala, and Mrs. Perkins, who never minded when I’d drop by their classrooms and fill up their planning period with conversation

-my piano teacher, Mrs. McCain, who helped me find a creative outlet

-my youth pastors, Jimmy and Patty Wade, Tim Tinsley, and Angela Thomas

-my husband, who I met and started dating when I was 17. My husband, who truly is the best person I’ve ever known, who saw past all the crazy to the real me underneath when I couldn’t see it, and who told me that it was good. That I was good.

Thank you all for seeing. Thank you for noticing me. Thank you for reaching out and offering to help. Thank you for loving me when I was a big, giant mess. Thank you.

And to all the people to whom I was so mean, most especially my classmates from 8th -12th grade, it is time I told you that I am sorry. I’m really sorry for the way I acted. I wish I’d known how to do things better back then, but I didn’t. The only thing I can say is that I learned from my mistakes, and I know how to do things better now.

I’d like to end this post with the following blessing for anyone who may be reading this.

May you be well.

May you be happy.

May you be free from suffering.

Namaste.