Club House and Grand Stand, Saratoga Race Track Saratoga SpringsIt’s astonishing how easily I can forget to take time to write. Whether it’s for my blog, for my sanity or even just an email. I also forget how great it feels to put a string of words together to express myself. I can only equate it to how you never workout because you simply forget just how good it actually feels to do so. I participated in NaNoWriMo in 2013 for the first time and wrote a staggering 26,000 words - just over 50% of the goal. It felt great, to a point, and I really need to complete that particular project… but I digress. Having been away so long from blogging, I thought I’d recapped the plan for last year and take stock in what my swiss-cheesery of a memory deems as highlights.

LAST NEW YEAR: “So here we are, January 2013, and I have decided that rather than make resolutions, I will state a few things that I don’t want to do this year – some I truly hope not to happen, others I think that if I fail at them, it will be a good thing. Here goes: I’m not looking for a relationship, I don’t want to torture myself trying to quit smoking, I don’t want to keep feeling useless and afraid of myself, I don’t want to get fatter, I don’t want to be destitute and wonder when my next meal will be or where I will live. I won’t go off my meds because I forget or think I am better without, I will try not to sweat the small stuff, and I’ll try not to forget about consequences and what leads to them. I don’t want to miss out on family gatherings, I will not rely on others for my well-being, I won’t overwhelm myself with tasks and impossible goals and I won’t forget that I am only human.” All in all, not too shabby since I am still not in a relationship, I quit smoking in May and I lost 30 pounds. Granted New Year 2014 seemed to be a total reversal of most of these as I am smoking again and have gained back all the weight I lost plus some. I am however, still trying to better myself – probably more so now than ever.

 

SEP 2013: My 37th birthday came around and I had lost 30 pounds since May and felt so good that I decided to celebrate by having my 27th birthday. I instagrammed pix of my pink and purple “27” candles on the vegan chocolate cake I made for myself (disgusting by the way). Once it was on Instagram and Facebook, it became true, since you can’t put things on the internet if they aren’t true.

OCT 2013: I dressed as Supergirl (Superman’s cousin) for Halloween and felt awesome. The subsequent candy feast however, lead to a downward spiral I wasn’t expecting. Flash forward to Thanksgiving and the Holiday overeating season.

NOV 2013: Time was running out on my State Disability; you can only get Disability in California for one year. I was unsure what would happen to me financially when that took place. It was during this time that I had finally decided that I had to give up my therapy dog (for mounting reasons) and I delivered her to her new home the Saturday before Thanksgiving. Depression over “losing” Kona may have aided in my nutritional demise.

DEC 2013: As luck would have it, after waiting 6 years for the *correct* rating percentage of disability from the VA, I was finally granted 100% and I could not believe how great the timing was.

JAN 2014: I started going to Los Angeles more and more, as I made plans to move back there when our lease in Helendale was over. I met a comedian friend of a friend and he informed me he was subletting his roommate’s room while he was on tour. I jumped at the chance. I started doing stand-up at open mics  and was thrilled by the rush.

FEB 2014: I moved into a furnished place and started “kind of” looking for places to call my own in West Hollywood. I was going to The Comedy Store every night and loving it. I started to seriously consider that I was on a path to alcoholism as well as becoming a comic.

MAR 2014: I had very little time, as the Helendale lease was almost up, to pack and get all my things into storage, since I couldn’t bring them to the apartment I was staying at.

APR 2014: Realized how fast time was flying and started to buckle down on finding a place.

MAY 2014: I had until the end of the month to find a place and I was getting worried as the rejection calls were coming in based on my credit. I was accepted at two places: one a shit hole that was close to West Hollywood and one several blocks east more in Hollywood proper/Los Angeles. I took the farther one as it seemed a much nicer place and somewhere I might be able to call home. With the stress of moving I stopped doing open mics for a while.

JUN 2014: June flew by in a tizzy of cardboard boxes and first-time adult purchases of major appliances… for the kitchen! What were you thinking?! It feels so strange having my very own refrigerator.

JUL 2014: So here we are and I’m currently sitting on a plane to Houston to celebrate my friend’s husband’s 50th birthday. It stirs an odd emotion inside me as I ponder the possibilities of that very same celebration in my life, which seems not long off (but kind of is). As soon as I get back from Texas I’m on a flight to New York to go to my hometown of Saratoga Springs for my 20th High School Reunion. Why didn’t I think to invite John Cusack as my date since I am still single and have no kids? At the very least, I’ll be sure to bring a pen.

20130825-121418.jpg

One day of procrastination turns into two days, three days, a week, a month, six months. Where has the time gone?

My writing is no different than my attempts to get healthy. I haven’t written in six months, as is evident by the sizable gap in my blogs, not to mention the empty journals sitting in a box next to my office table. Granted, there are plenty of reasons why:

FEB – Had to leave my apartment because I could no longer afford living there since I stopped working in November. Scrambled a lot trying to figure out if I would have to resort to living in a shelter (a huge inconvenience with an unruly dog).

MAR – Money from State Disability finally came through from November, helping me out financially with the transition. Spent several weeks hotel hopping with my future roommate and our three dogs. The next several weeks were spent couch surfing.

APR – Finally moved into an affordable place and started piecing things back together in the shambles of my life.

MAY – Quit smoking and starting watching what I ate somehow, despite the continued feelings of anxiety and depression and the the feeling that things were crashing down around me. Started P90X, a workout program that I have had for years and had previously never made it past the first week. Started a Food Elimination Schedule created by my Beachbody Coach, Monica Parodi, as I worked towards eating clean. Started drinking Shakeology, which drastically changed the level of health of the food I put into my body. Became a Beachbody Coach to save money on Shakeology and get a great discount on products.

JUN – Went to the Beachbody Coach Summit in Las Vegas to learn more about the benefits of working out, drinking Shakeology and helping others reach their fitness goals (if that includes you, check out my Instagram for details). Met a lot of great people from my Team, as well as people from all over the U.S. and Canada. Enjoyed Vegas for the first time. Met Tony Horton, creator of P90X, which just made my whole trip worth it.

JUL – Went home to New York for a Class Reunion of the class ahead of me (I had always had more friends in that class than my own); got a good dress rehearsal of my reunion for next year. Learned more about myself in regards to family issues that have been raging for decades; it’s interesting how my brain tells me who I do and do not want to have influencing my life and emotions as I get older.

AUG – Finally, a years long project takes place – an expo put together by 20+ people for kids including vendors, donations, raffles, celebrities; a labor of love that turned out to be more non-profit than we had planned, on so many levels. On top of which three family birthdays and surprise bills of nearly $1000 for electric, thanks to living in 100+ degree high-desert, begin to ramp up my anxiety like there’s no tomorrow.

SIDE NOTE: Financial troubles have almost always exclusively been the one thing that will send me over the edge. Especially when I feel as though there is nothing that I can do to make the situation any better.

I also realize that I have slacked off in regards to my workouts due in part to traveling as well as the fallacy of thinking that I am not getting anywhere and I’m not seeing the progress I would like. In truth I haven’t completed much more than a month and a half of the prescribed workout plan, even though I should have finished my 90 days of P90X on August 9th, had I not missed any days at all.

That being said, I’ve spent the last week trying to ramp up to starting P90X all over again. The idea of 90 more days causes hesitation, thinking that I will be bored, while just thinking about it exhausts me to no end. I need to remember that I’m planning on working out for the rest of my life, what’s the big deal about 90 days? I’ll be done in no time, I’ll be physically healthier than I have ever been, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to go back to work. We’ll see. Unfortunately, I’ve been sleeping so much lately and definitely not eating enough of the right calories to sustain the energy I need to do daily activities, let alone work out. And yet – despite how I frequently feel thanks to my mental health, I have never actually given up on myself; I’m a survivor and a fighter and this too shall pass.

Option Paralysis 2 I am swimming in to-do lists and quite sure I’m on the verge of drowning due to option paralysis. I had always thought my best friend coined that phrase, but alas I was able to find it in Urban Dictionary.  It has always been such a great way to describe how I often feel; when faced with so many choices/options I get overwhelmed and in not knowing where to start – I just don’t.

Apparently I am not alone, as many people feel overwhelmed and inundated with “options” these days. I’m sure the ebb and flow of technology and all that can be achieved at a moment’s notice on the interwebs has aided in this phenomenon. Robert M Brecht, Ph.D. writes that “psychological research over the last forty or so years has established the correlation between providing choice and increases in intrinsic motivation, perceived control, task performance and satisfaction with life. [...] There comes a point when the choices available to us become counterproductive.” More of his conclusions can be found in his blog post “Consumer Marketing: We All Want Choices… or Do We?” Another blogger, M. Farbman, had this trouble in youth when going to Baskin-Robbins – 31 Flavors – the perfect analogy in the blog “Option Paralysis.” Although it must be harder now, as my last count put them somewhere over 57 flavors.

My most pressing issue: I’ve recently been served – no, not by a crowd of dancing teenagers – rather, with an eviction notice (again?!?! That’s another story). This is due to my recent working cessation while dealing with severe anxiety and depression, sprinkled with this awesome nervous system disorder of Fibromyalgia. I have been trying to figure out what I’m going to do with the upcoming homeless horizon that I am staring at like a sun, burning holes into my retinas. I had hoped that I could get assistance from New Directions, an amazing organization whose mission “is to empower veterans and facilitate their successful return to families and society.” They helped me get into the apartment I am in now when I had accepted a local job; now not working, I am in more need than ever. Unfortunately, due to funding constraints they are no longer able to assist me.

I am seeking help from several other organizations, but I have a feeling I will still need to leave the apartment I am in for different accommodations. I am finding that a room, or even a shelter is going to be difficult as I have my companion dog who has been with me for three years and is not able to be with me at most of the options I have; I cannot give her up as she is the only family I have locally and she relies on me as much as I do on her. Perhaps I will be lucky enough to find accomodations that are better for her, with a yard she can run in and not be so confined.

Logic surfaces from time to time, through the Fibro Fog and Anxiety (a steel wool-like cloud that ceases most logic, clarity and cognitive thought), and I realize whatever my next place of residence is, I will have to pack up what remains from my last move and put it in storage. It will be much easier to go from place to place in search of the right one with just my dog, my car, a duffle of clothes, and an air mattress. Easier said than done, however, as money, a truck and movers are required to facilitate this… oh – and a storage unit. I look around my apartment and shudder to think about packing …again. It’s so time consuming and energy sapping, but it has to happen. There’s laundry to do, dishes to wash, clothes to weed through to lighten the load followed by the subsequent donation to Good Will. When I get overwhelmed I sit on the couch and watch TV; God help me if there’s a marathon on, whether it be Law and Order, The Matrix, the Alien Quadrilogy, Family Feud… enough is enough. BACK TO WORK!!! My body hurts, my mind hurts, my heart is uncertain and the World feels like it’s closing in around me – but I must do SOMETHING.

I’ve never given myself a solid routine to maintain my own life – even a simple routine for when I wake-up or go to bed. Those little things seem so easy …and yet go undone. My mind freezes and my body follows suit until some day or hour or minute finally comes when I know that there is no other way but to act. It’s that last minute action that has always saved me, but it would be so much healthier, I am sure, if I could just learn to get my shit together on a regular basis. My success at last minute projects has done nothing but give me negative reinforcement of my bad habits. I hope and hope that I can start giving myself structure but something always gets in the way, the flow of my day-to-day always changes, I think I get ahead and an unexpected expense happens, things are swell and then I have a nervous breakdown. For the love of Pete – it’s always something – my life in retrospect seems so chaotic. Is it because I am better suited to a structured life, a life with fewer options, less choices? The military was perfect for me – but that, of course, is no more I am sad to say and I must live with that – or not, I suppose.

I know I’m not the only one going through these experiences, but more often than not – I feel that I am.

HYE 2013According to Wikipedia, a veritable wealth of reliability, “88% of those who set New Year resolutions fail.” I stopped making Resolutions a long time ago, not because it’s a bad idea to challenge yourself, but because I always seem to fail at them. This year, I’m trying something a little different – my solution to the Resolution – psychology and maybe a touch of reverse psychology.

First, let’s review 2012 for those of you keeping track at home. It started well with eating better in an attempt to lose the weight I had previously lost and regained, I quit smoking (for a time), I fell in love, I learned first-hand about Baby Mama Drama, I got heat exhaustion at work, I got engaged to an old flame, I cut off my hair for Locks of Love, I got laid off from work and went on unemployment, my dog got fleas for over a month, I fell out of love. Unemployment got messed up for six weeks and I couldn’t pay my rent and started to get evicted. The VA finally approved my disability for Fibromyalgia, but lowered one of my other ratings. I broke up with my fiancé, missed my Grandmother’s wedding, got a job offer in Los Angeles, moved to Los Angeles and started a new job. Stress started to weasel its way back into my life again and led to severe Anxiety and Depression like I had not known in a long time, I stopped working and started to go to more doctors and get on more medications. I started a blog, I started a Twitter account, I started to wonder if my day-to-day had changed forever. I ended 2012 not wanting to be anywhere, not wanting to see anyone and not knowing what to do – about anything.

So here we are, January 2013, and I have decided that rather than make resolutions, I will state a few things that I don’t want to do this year – some I truly hope not to happen, others I think that if I fail at them, it will be a good thing. Here goes: I’m not looking for a relationship, I don’t want to torture myself trying to quit smoking, I don’t want to keep feeling useless and afraid of myself, I don’t want to get fatter, I don’t want to be destitute and wonder when my next meal will be or where I will live. I won’t go off my meds because I forget or think I am better without, I will try not to sweat the small stuff, and I’ll try not to forget about consequences and what leads to them. I don’t want to miss out on family gatherings, I will not rely on others for my well-being, I won’t overwhelm myself with tasks and impossible goals and I won’t forget that I am only human.

Aside from a scant number of references of theological beginnings of New Year Resolutions, Wikipedia cites a Wall Street Journal article, “Blame it on the Brain” by the controversial journalist/blogger Jonah Lehrer focused on “The Science Behind Failed Resolutions.” It explains how the portion of the brain that controls willpower, the frontal cortex, “is also in charge of keeping us focused, handling short-term memory and solving abstract problems.” An overload of tasks and subsequently a lack of willpower (giving into temptation) seems inevitable when you set multiple resolutions for yourself at once; you may believe you are trying to improve yourself but instead you are setting yourself up for failure. Pace yourself, research what it takes to form habits and plan how you will reward yourself. Give yourself enough time to attain the result you are looking for before moving onto the next goal.

In the past, I’ve started eating better, quit smoking, started exercising and maybe even threw in one or two other behaviors that were not my usual habit. That is why I have failed. Knowledge is power – and learning more about the brain and how it works, not to mention more about my specific disabilities, may give me the knowledge to harness my willpower – or at the very least, give me a better understanding of how to get my hands on some.

OstrichSyndrome I keep hoping (even thinking) that I am feeling better as the days and weeks pass. However, I tend to sink back into a very dull and dismal thought process that I am extremely uncomfortable with and I fall into what I have categorized as “Ostrich Syndrome.” I find it akin to, but rather separate from, “Fibro Fog” that is generally associated with Fibromyalgia.

Now, by no means did I coin this phrase, but I did Google it to ensure that I’m not just insane. The 31,600 results that followed assured me that this ideology exists, although mainly used to characterize business management and how this “Syndrome” pertains to the inner workings (or lack thereof) of a business plan or organization, or political denial. Or so I have gleaned from perusing some of the said Google results. (On a sidenote: it’s also the name of a band with a track called Prince of Babylon produced by One Million Heist, “a non-profit independent netlabel, with various genres and artists with one goal, to be heard.” Some very interesting tracks are found on Sound Cloud).

Urban Dictionary has the first result and closest description of Ostrich Syndrome as it pertains to myself and how I feel when I just want to close the shudders (as though anyone has shudders anymore), not answer my phone, eat snacks instead of meals, and couch potato it all day - which may include an afternoon nap while I wait for night to come just so I can go back to sleep. Ineteresting enough – no anxiety that I can tell. I know I have responsibilities, I know I have bills to pay, I know that there are things to do that really shouldn’t be put off until tomorrow – I just can’t seem to make myself give a damn. Hell, I was supposed to hang out with a friend today who is off from work (whom I’ve been hounding to hang out with me). I was also supposed to go to a performance tonight that two of my other friends are in only once a month. I just couldn’t pull my head out of my ass to do these things – because I’m busy hiding – hoping that hiding will make my problems go away. Newsflash: it won’t.

I would like to give a shout out to a fellow Word Press blogger, Jackson Quigg Associates, who gave me even more insight into Ostrich Syndrome and a term I was previously unfamiliar with: Permissibility. The blog states that it “occurs when someone allows something to continue to happen, even when they’re in a position to stop it or have a significant impact upon it.” I am allowing this to happen. I am my own enabler.

“First step is realizing you have a problem” so they say. Great. I am aware that I am this way. Now what do I do about it, especially when I allow it to happen and don’t give a rat’s ass? I’m stumped. How does a broken one fix themself? That’s worse than “the blind leading the blind.” And is this something that I can fix? Is it a part of my diagnosed Depression, Anxiety and/or Fibromyalgia? Or did I get blessed with other shortcomings as well? Only time can tell.

Have you felt this way before? How long did it last? Any suggestions?

600_southern_california_beaches_map
As anyone with Anxiety, Depression, or frankly, active brain waves knows, it’s good to have someone you can trust that you can talk to about anything. Among those I consider in my life – my psychiatrist, a man I trust beyond words who, other than diagnostically speaking, doesn’t judge me. I can be completely honest without fear of being alienated due to my unfiltered verbal regurgitation.

I value his sessions so much that even though I’ve moved to Los Angeles, I still go down to the San Diego VA (Veterans’ Affairs) just to see him. I had an appointment just the other day. I had almost not gone due to how piss-poor I’ve been feeling these last few weeks and seriously considered a phone call to him instead. Thankfully as the appointment drew near I’d been feeling better and made the trek. I spent two hours and forty minutes driving and I just made it on time. We had one of the most productive sessions to date and I even told my doctor about starting a blog. He is very supportive of my efforts.

My last trip to San Diego I mentioned to people too late and no one could hang out; this trip I thought ahead and had plans to see one of my friends and his family and then dinner with a few old teammate’s of mine (I used to play Women’s Pro Football – but that’s a different story). I wound up not having much time before getting to dinner and my friend had to get his exercise in before the evening was out so we went for a walk with one of his sons and caught up on the last few months. Low and behold, forty-five minutes and 1.8 miles later it was time to go. My ankles had been hurting since about half way, my legs were relatively on fire with the onset of circulation in them for once and I hadn’t eaten anything all day. Not the best way to take care of a chronic pain/headache/mental condition such as I have, but I like to live dangerously.

Off to the sports bar to see two of my dear friends and finally get something in my tummy; I ordered a huge greasy bacon burger (no tomatoes, no onions, medium rare as usual) with a side of tater-tots. Tater-tots always remind me of high school lunch, cracked plastic green trays, sporks and pints of chocolate milk (sometimes 2%, depends). Maybe it’s just me.

It was a great time and it’s moments like these that remind me that even in my darkest times, solitary confinement is not the best idea. It’s always hard when you’re in the thick of it to remember the good things and hold onto them.

By the time we wrapped up it was about 9pm and I was dreading the two hour plus ride home to Los Angeles. I decided since I was in the area and it was only about ten minutes out of the way, I’d hit up my old stomping grounds at The La Jolla Comedy Store. I got to see most of my friends there and had some great laughs. While I was there I realized I was starting to have a Fibromyalgia flare-up. This is when, instead of this or that hurting and the pain going from here to there throughout the day, it’s in multiple areas at once and it just won’t go away. The longer the pain goes on the more distracted and irritable I become. My arms were aching something terrible and the pain started to make my whole torso feel like I’d been hit by a train. I tried to stave off the pain with light-hearted conversation with my friends and continued to fidget over the next hour or so. As they were closing I decided to hit the road.

Since it was only about 10:30 I figured that by the time I made it up to L.A. that The World Famous Comedy Store on Sunset would still be open. It would be fun to hit up my new favorite spot as well as the old in the same night despite how I was feeling; it was relatively on the way back home, so why not? The drive back was shorter, just over two hours and I pulled up to the Store at around 12:30am. My hips were killing me from all the time in the car but I was happy to be there and enjoying more laughs. A few hours there and I was home by 3am.

Boy, did I pay for the prior day’s shenanigans. I couldn’t get out of bed until at least 1:30 in the afternoon and even then, I was a zombie. If it wasn’t for my too-smart-for-her-own-good dog, who has the wherewithal to let me know when she has to go out, I may not have gotten out of bed that day at all. I’m quite sure I only had some instant oatmeal and stared at the TV for an hour before deciding to go back to bed. I slept on and off for several more hours and finally had some strength by 6:30-7:00pm that night.

This is part of my many ongoing problems. I throw my circadian cycle off by having fun into the wee hours, or by being in pain or having racing thoughts and being unable to sleep so I toss and turn for hours. I’d rather do it by having fun, but the results are generally the same. Bedtime gets later and later. Wake time gets later and later. Afternoon naps come into play and nutrition, amongst other things, goes to the wayside.

Although easier said than done, I need to take better care of myself, that’s really all there is to it. I need to force myself into a routine and even if I maintain late nights I have to get up by a certain time and work – work hard – at taking care of myself. It’s not that I can’t try to live a full and fun-filled life, it’s that I have to work on making it healthier and more manageable. I need consistency in my life. Moreover, it’s a matter of having indifference for myself and daily – struggling against it.

cure-fibromyalgia-tender-pointsI was twenty-one when my Fibromyalgia started. Of course, neither I nor the doctors knew that’s what it was for quite some time. I was in the Navy at the time, stationed in Texas for a “C” School of my rate. It was spring going into Summer and temperatures were already on the rise to the point of several black flags during the two months I was there, which restricted our physical training outdoors.

Mid-April, I decided to go on a health kick; I quit smoking, started eating better (how could I not – it was an Air Force Base), and I stepped up my exercising; I even bought Susan Powder’s Stop the Insanity exercise tapes (not my first, nor last attempt to get fit). Being in the military, we’re expected to do PT (Physical Training) at least three times a week to keep ourselves fit for the annual PRT (Physical Readiness Test), therefore exercise can only make me better, right? Or so I thought.

I started running several miles a day, for three days, and at the end of that third day my right knee was hurting pretty significantly. Despite rest and the Vitamin M (Motrin 800mg – the military’s usual prescript despite whatever ails you), the pain would not go away. It started to radiate above and below my right knee and felt as though my muscles and tendons had been damaged. Physical therapy was also of no use and in no time I was onto my next school in Florida for another two-three months and still on Limited Duty, which restricted my physical activity and exempted me from PRTs.

While I was in Florida the pain was spreading through most of my other muscles and joints and started to become the “widespread pain” that would characterize Fibromyalgia. I needed narcotic painkillers to feel any relief (which, of course without physical evidence of injury, they were hesitant to give me) and the unknown diagnosis spooked the docs and my detailer, the person who assigns you to your duty stations. Subsequently, I lost my orders to Misawa, Japan and instead had to choose between Ft. Meade, Maryland and Hawai’i. At this point, I had been in so much pain for so long that I just wanted to be close to my family in upstate New York. I chose Ft. Meade, Maryland. As anyone in the military knows, it seems they have no desire to accommodate needs or wants of military members and it is the “needs of the Navy” that dictate everything. That being said, I was cut orders to Hawai’i; had I chosen that in the first place – it would have been Ft. Meade for sure, I have no doubt.

Time and again we’d say to each other that something the Navy had decided didn’t “make sense.” The all-too-acceptable reply usually being “that’s the Navy for ya’,” as though common sense and military protocol are mutually exclusive. But I digress…

By October I was in Hawai’i and the pain had spread throughout my entire body. In November, there was finally a breakthrough when a civilian doctor working in the clinic ruled out all the usual suspects for my symptoms with a battery of tests: Lupus, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Lyme Disease, you name it. I had nearly all the tender points indicated in The American College of Rheumatology 1990 Criteria for Classification of Fibromyalgia1 and he finally diagnosed me with Fibromyalgia.

When I called my mother to tell her, she informed me that she had been diagnosed with it just two weeks earlier. That was fourteen years ago in 1998.

 

1http://www.fibroassist.net/Diagnosis/ACR%201990%20FM%20Criteria.pdf

splatter-grunge-wordpress-logoI am a disabled veteran. I’ve gotten used to saying that by now, despite the stigmata I feel in my heart each time it passes my lips or even my thoughts.

Recently, I had a pretty difficult time with my health, all of my service-connected disabilities came to a head at once and I was overloaded with Fibromyalgia pain, daily Tension (possibly Migraine) headaches and crippling Anxiety and Depression. I had to stop going to work and got a doctor’s note to be out for a few weeks. For the first time I’m putting in for State Disability due to my conditions and for the second time I feel my conditions have hindered my work performance and my day-to-day, this time to the point of not being able to cope – with anything.

In between the days that I couldn’t leave the house, besides to walk my companion dog, I ventured out a few times. In the thick of it, I was so anxiety ridden that driving on the freeway was overwhelming for me and I wondered what I would do if that feeling got worse or didn’t go away.

One of the best destinations I chose when I was in a sullen mood was the World Famous Comedy Store. I have several comedian friends and my whole life I have considered comedy the greatest escape from my sorrows; I love stand-up more than any other form of comedy and really get to let my hair down when I go to shows. It was a conversation I had at the Comedy Store with a friend that spurred my interest with blogging. Being a writer and an English Major, you’d have thought I’d have jumped on the blog-train years ago, but something always stopped me.

My friend and I got into a pretty in-depth conversation about my Fibromyalgia, Anxiety and Depression and he emphasized the need for me to get support; he suggested blogging. The seed was planted; in the last few weeks the idea has turned into more of a mission than just an outlet to express myself.

I’d like to not only express myself, but offer up my experiences to others. I, like many other people with disabilities, somehow always still feel alone, even though common sense dictates that we are not alone. I would like to give my support and in exchange gain the support of others that I know are out there, but that I do not know… yet.