Aunt Flo visits for Halloween.

I started my period today, which makes me wonder if all that joint pain was weather and hormones.

I don't have much to say, just want to pig out on chocolate, and go to the bead show with my mother in law.

Day 4-5 Lyrica, gluten intolerance, plus Danzig

First of all, Danzig was amazing. I wore my nun costume and some drunk girl told me she loved me 3 or 4 times and wanted me to be beside her in the VIP section, which just wasn't possible. Another drunk told me to check out Slaughtered Priests and their song, "Bestial Nun Sluts". He was convinced I'd love them, haven't checked yet, but still find that amusing.

I didn't have any energy shots left like I thought I did, so getting ready for the show was trying, and I only had chance to down a protein shake before leaving, so by the time the show was over I was HOOOOOOOOONGRY. Now, hungry for a diabetic is different for others. When we don't have enough carbs-glucose in the blood, our heads go cuckoo, and there's the shakes and whatnot. I can be a real nonsensical bitch. So, the first chance to eat we stopped and I had onion rings, and then an irresistable piece of texas toast. Until last night, it'd been so long since I ate white bread, I don't remember when I did. I knew the breading for the onions had wheat flour in it too...but I was hungry and weak. And, besides that, I really needed to test my gluten intolerance. Immediately, a new headache appeared in my head and I started getting the sniffles. Later, I had intestinal distress I won't describe. So, I've figured that I may not have celiac disease, leastways, I may never be tested for it...but I KNOW definitely that there's intolerance that acts like an allergy.

As far as Lyrica goes...the sleepiness seems to have dissipated. Which is great. Whether or not it's helping my pain levels is up in the air. I'm having terrible joint pain all over my body. Could have something to do with the change in the weather...but it's weird and annoying. I guess I'll keep taking the Lyrica at least until my 2 weeks update with the rheumatologist and see if I feel any different.

RE: a livejournal fatshionista blog post about the now infamous 'Fatties' article.

Maura Kelly's article, like all acts of willful ignorance, made me crazy-eyed, spittin' mad. Her attitude isn't just size-ist, but also classist and ableist.

I'm a fat, disabled woman. My husband is out of work at the moment, and we have to live with his parents. I get less than $700 a month for us to live on. So, I guess you can say this article had a tri-fold attack on me.

To assume that I am fat because I'm continuously shoving junk down my throat, or that I have no clue when it comes to nutrition or fitness is despicable. For many years, all I could afford was peanut butter and jelly on white bread and soups with crackers. I imagine that a huge percentage of the population is probably in that boat. Nowadays, because of my living situation, I have access to more nutritious foods. Still, I struggle, because I have to eat gluten-free, and gluten-free products can be so very expensive. Also, I would like very much to be an active person. I would love to be able to hop on a bike and take off down the road, or play softball, or catch, or volleyball or tennis or just go for a jog, or walk. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to do any of these things in many years, because I live with multiple pain disorders. I can't even stand up long enough to do a load of dishes.

With the addition of a wheelchair to my life, I've been able to get out a lot more, when we can afford it. I'm constantly aware of glares, disgusted whispers, and giggles. Waiting in line at the grocery store, more than once, I've heard people start having a conversation about "obesity" or "morbid obesity". If I'm with my husband, I'll try to come up with conversation about "morons"...but usually, in the moment, I can't get that witty brain of mine to budge, which is frustrating. Often, people will avoid making eye contact with me, or ignore me completely. Fuck 'em.

So, yeah, the article got to me. My entire childhood I was singled out to be ostracized because I was fat. My parents tried to make me a thin person, we ate a mostly strict "Fit for Life" diet, and my dad took me to the track to walk/run his exercise plan. I had 'friends', but until 8th grade, I didn't have anyone I could really trust. Moving around a lot didn't help. New and fat is so difficult. Boys that had crushes on me were always afraid to act on it publicly. I wouldn't say that I was anyone's 'secret girlfriend', but several times a boy would pick on me when he was with his friends and try to kiss me when no one else was around. Or, a friend had no problem coming over to my house to play, but they didn't want to be seen in the hall with me at school. I still have severe social phobia that I have to work through every time I have a conversation in public.

The thing is, I KNOW, I'm wonderfully awesome, and I've learned to except and cherish my curves. I know there are a lot of other females out there that haven't made it to the same place. That damaging article has probably caused hundreds of spectacular women to momentarily doubt their self-worth. This enrages me. I imagine that text set ablaze, a fire under my big fat ass to work against its esteem-crushing evil and edify big women.

I started a blog of my own, and am x-posting there.

P.S. I need to dig out my, "KNOW FAT CHICKS" button and wear it proudly.

Zombies and Lyrica Day 3.

I was able to get up at a proper time today, but same situation. Excessive sluggish/sleepiness and nightmares remembered. Now, these were about zombie apocalypse, so it was kinda fun for me. In my dreams, I'm a zombie-fighting bad ass. I can do all the things I can't do in real life; ie. stand or walk for any significant length of time, run, punch or kick through walls and doors...etc. Still, when it gets to the point where I'm surrounded by zombies in an enclosed space and there's nothing I can do, certain death awaits; that is a dream that screws with your head. I don't know if that was proper use of a semi-colon. I need to take English 101, again.

Well, now that I'm up for about an hour, I'm decided less sleepy. I'm unsure of whether or not my pain levels are decreased. I'm always having at least an hour of waking stiffness. Right now my lower back aches, and that radiates all the way up to my neck and down into my thighs. No, pins and needles or burning pain at present, but I don't have that 24/7, so I can't really say I've noticed a significant change in pain levels yet. My feet are less swollen today, which is good. They swell up so much sometimes that it literally feels like they will explode. In case you've never experienced this...it effin' hurts.

Husband is going to see Bad Brains tonight without me. We're on the broke side, and as ridiculous as it might seem, BB is just one band I've never synched with, and it's not for lack of trying. It doesn't make sense to me, either, just is. So, George gets to go see one of his favorite bands, and I get my laundry done for me.  It's a win-win.

The last few hours, all I've felt was malaise and blah.

I need to stop reading the comments these idiots make. It's just pissing me off over and over.

One person actually said, "No one should be born fat."

No one would be born fat if all mothers were crack heads. This should save us all from the dreaded fat babies.

Forget what Whitney Houston said...CRACK IS BACK!

Day 2 Lyrica

None of the itchy crawlies last night, but I still felt weird. A few minutes after taking it, I began to feel drowsy. Insomnia has plagued me all of my life, so I don't really trust a sleepy feeling. I've been exhausted physically before and still unable to turn off the brain.  Since, the events of the summer, with the heightened anxiety level, I've found taking a .5-1mg of alprazolam before I lay down, helps me fall asleep rather quickly and usually I don't remember my dreams. This is extremely beneficial to me, because sleep is so important and my horrific nightmares tend to leak into my waking life causing extreme low moods. I've been prescribed many medications over the last 7 years and alprazolam is the only thing with the potential to calm the storm in my head. However, the Lyrica made me so drowsy, I might not need the alprazolam, except that I DID remember my dreams, and they were upsetting.

I went to bed at 4am, and woke up several times in the afternoon, but was so sleepy that I couldn't really get up, other than to use the bathroom.  I've been up for about an hour now, and I still feel "hungover".  I don't know if noticed a difference in my pain levels. My feet were swollen up last night. They've gone down a lot, but are still a little swollen. If I don't notice a difference in pain levels this month, and the drowsiness does not let up, I'll obviously stop taking this drug. I have little hope that it will significantly help me, but I guess I have to give it a try, right?

I know this is the most fascinating blog post you'll ever read.

Wow, that woman pissed me off.

And, I'm not the only one, there's 319 comments on that piece of trash. In case you didn't see the article, you can find it here: http://www.marieclaire.com/sex-love/dating-blog/overweight-couples-on-television#comments.

I know this woman isn't the only person who sees fat people in such a close-minded way. I haven't felt so much like I was back in high school in a long while. Probably, the last time was in '05 or '06 (faulty memory, thanks fibro-fog) when I was taking my friend's little girl into the mall to meet her mom after work. We had had a lovely afternoon of playing and pretending, and that little girl who always smiled up at me with an admiring sparkle in her eyes was holding my hand as we walked. This was when I was still young and vain enough to shy away from using a cane, and I was huffing through the pain and instability, because I had to be strong with this little angel at my side. If you've been to Barton Creek Mall, you know there's plenty of seating outside the entrance near the AMC theater. I could've sat down and had a rest break, like normal, however, there was a group of random, unsupervised teenagers, ready to pounce. As I neared them, I heard some sort of idiotic, derogatory fat comment that I don't remember. I ignored it, and kept walking. Seconds later, I hear, "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue...or did you eat that, too?". A chorus of laughter followed. I probably winced inside, but I kept my head held high. I wanted to flip them off, or yell a retort, or put my fist through all their faces. If I hadn't had this innocent, darling, Wendy-idolizing tot at my side, I would've done at least one of those things, but I wanted to shelter her from such ugliness. I really wished the world could be the magical fairy land we pretended it was, and we could all ride around on unicorns. I certainly wasn't going to introduce her to fat hatred and bigotry.  I was still in grief at this time in my life, and the blow to my ego certainly didn't help, but I've dealt with this brand of asshole all my years, and thankfully I've always known I was the better person.

I  HATE the mall.

I took my first dose of Lyrica last night, and other than a short time of feeling like things were crawling on me, and being itchy and sleepy...I don't notice any significant difference or ill side effects.

There are donuts on the kitchen table. Donuts that I can't eat. Donuts that I refuse to eat. There are gluten-free donuts in the fridge that I can eat. Gluten-free donuts, that are still sugary and high calorie. Gluten-free donuts that I shouldn't eat, but I find comfort in their presence. Why? Because, I know that as bad as they might be for me, if I can not stand the craving anymore, they aren't as bad as those donuts on the table. Still, those table donuts call out to me, because I can see them...they shriek out my name, begging me to come and free them from their donut box prison. They are a cruel temptation.

@#$% you, table donuts.

Why?

I'm starting this blog because...

...for years I've been told, by people I respect, that keeping a journal would help.
...I've bought too many notebooks, scribbled and filled a few pages, with good intention, and then abandoned them like the kid with the Velveteen Rabbit. They're around here somewhere.
...it's hard to doodle on a keyboard, and if I have a pencil I'm probably drawing cartoons.
...medically, it would be good documentation.
...I want something to leave behind.
...I feel a bit of an obligation to open up and give out what's inside me - the light and dark parts.
...my ego needs feedback and encouragement
...I need to speak frankly about my life's struggles and joys.


...I have something to say.


So, if you are coming along for the ride, be forewarned: it may get rough, but you might find you like it that way.