My oh my, have things happened since my last post. After many (many) months of my troubles paying rent, my landlord (very politely) evicted me. He gave me a month to get out and I spent most of the first two weeks just wishin’ and a hopin’, trying not to think or talk about it.
But then I had a pretty fierce breakdown when my accupuncturist asked me how I was. I cried big, like the snotty kind, and babbled about how there’s no way I could survive in a homeless shelter in this condition (seriously though) and continued crying for most of the session, my tears drenching the tissue between me and the scented eye pillow.
When I got home I was going to post something on Facebook that was tongue-in-cheek, but then I wound up spilling my guts. All of them. About my fucking health condition, my inability to work or even think straight, how lonely I was, and how I was on the verge of homelessness. Then I went to bed.
When I woke up my Facebook was full of people reaching out with help or words of support, and by eviction day my apartment was filled with loved ones moving stuff to my car, which I’d drive to Corvallis, Oregon to spend the month of August.
A friend from Alaska and her hilarious dog Frank helped me transition out of nearly complete isolation to “peopling” on a daily basis. I was so scared. I had so many meltdowns during my rare outings, it felt like I was facing going through that all the time. But, thank goodness, I was wrong!
My symptoms have been stronger than while in isolation, which makes sense as my wigged-out nervous system reacts to every little sound or surprise, plus I’m exerting more with the peopling. But the benefits make it totally worth the increased misery, as connecting on a daily basis makes me so happy.
In addition to that HUGE step going so wonderfully, I wound up in the eclipse’s teeny-tiny path of totality! It was an other-worldly experience. Leading up to it the temperature dropped quickly and the light through the trees on the house transformed into hundreds of tiny crescent moons.
It got completely dark for a few minutes while the moon covered the sun, a truly awesome sight. People were cheering from all around the neighborhood, everyone focused on the same beautiful happening. It was an unforgettable experience.
And, in typical eclipse fashion, great changes followed the spectacle. I write to you today from California, where I now live. My rheumatologist and two accupuncturists suggested that I move somewhere hotter and drier, so when a friend from college offered to move me here after the aforementioned Facebook post – I gratefully accepted.
Symptom-wise things are about the same as in Corvallis, but I’m living with a whole family now so I call that a win. The last two winters have been hell (winter flares are big with fibro) so I’m hoping that with winter never coming this year I’ll keep improving. Or “drying out” as my accupunturist suggested, they all said I’m “too damp.” fascinating stuff, that eastern medicine.
I’ve been doing exercises or leaving the house (haha, woo!) nearly everyday, even the days that start out miserable, in hopes of it helping. It’s fucking bonkers pain, I’m not gonna lie. But I’ve had two years to adjust to intense pain so I’m better equipped to handle it, and actually have been crying less.
Living with my funny friend and her family, including a hilarious baby, is a great distraction. I’m still alone most of the time as sensory input often makes me feel like I’m going to explode, but it’s great to socialize for a few minutes at a time throughout the day. Makes me feel human! I’m so grateful.
Things always work out, they really do. I have confidence, indefatigable fucking confidence, that things will improve for me. I will be independent. I will feel good. I will contribute in the ways I dream of. Damnit.