“Where Did I Go Wrong?”

Sweet boredom, take me now. #mathclass #ehlerdanlos #CRPS #sittingstillhurts

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*cough* Hmm…dusty! It’s been quite a bit of time since I’ve visited this place, sank into its comforting caress and typed my troubles away. But I think tonight is a good night to do just that. Where do I even begin? School is as stressful…no, that’s a lie. It’s much more stressful than I thought it would be. I’m sticking with my pattern of “oh look at this mountain of textbooks in front of me that I should probably take care of before they crush a small child. Instead, I shall play with this rock over here.” I never do anything. I’ve opened all but one of my textbooks but have only read one or two chapters in each of them. None of my classes are exceptionally complicated (compelling, interesting, but not mind-boggling) and I’ve managed to skate through most of my life like this. The problem though, is that this isn’t who I am. I’m an achiever. I want to be the best at everything, all the time. I correct people, I state my opinion, I don’t care. I’ve completely shed this anxious…okay, totally not true, let me back track. I state my opinion and I correct people. I care about what people think though, and I worry about being lonely and having friends. When it comes to school work, tests, homework, studying and all of that, I just can’t do it. I have to be set up by someone else. I have to be told to do it before I can actually actively participate in the activity. What the hell is wrong with that picture? It makes weekends and studying very problematic. Like this past week was testing hell because I had a test in every single class. I didn’t study for any of them. Flunked my math and scraped by in all the rest. Lucky, right? Well, I think I rely too heavily on that. I rely too much on my intuition and my reasoning when it’s critical. I mean, that sounds weird but it’s like the all or nothing thinking. Before, I didn’t trust my intuition at all. I didn’t want to believe my gut feelings. I didn’t think it was possible for me to be right about anything, ever. And now, I’m the shit. I know everything. I’ve lived through the French Revolution, I saw MLK Jr. be assassinated. Where did all of this knowledge come from? This power, this authority (authori-tay!) doesn’t belong to me. It belongs in someone else’s hands. And until I can use it properly (insert appropriate Uncle Ben/Peter Parker reference here), I don’t want it. Everything with school feels surreal. I’m going through the motions. I’m not doing this because it matters; I’m doing this because there is no question about whether or not it is supposed to be done. “Attend or attend, there is no drop-out.” And then the pain…I can’t feel like a normal person. My body is constantly at war with itself. Something always hurts, itches or needs to be adjusted. It’s to the point that it prevents me from functioning most of the time. Because of this, I never want to stay on campus, I never want to stick around and hang out. I never want to sit together and study for our next test. I don’t want to do any of that because the only thing I can think to do is go home and go to bed. My book bag comes to school with me every day but is never emptied. The books stay in the zebra-striped pouch all day, alone. I can cope with pain, I can handle stress but not having support is getting very difficult. But then again, I did start talking to Vladimir again, if you can believe it. The conversations are…the best thing I’ve ever experienced. I love him. I think I always have, even when we broke up and I just ignored it after all this time. He ended it with his girlfriend and we text obsessively with each other. He told me he loved me too. I get butterflies just thinking about it. To think that someone could love me the way he does, to know that my affection can be returned so unhindered is utterly beautiful. When he told me, I nearly cried. It takes a lot for that to happen but he almost managed it. Even now, thinking of his face, hands, his smile. Writing this about him, texting him while I’m doing so and thinking about what he’s doing is just enough to make me so tranquil inside. I think if we hadn’t broken up when we did, we would be married by now. (I just cracked my wrist and it was awesome!) Okay, mushiness is over. Back to misery…I was approved by my doctor at Hopkins to have a spinal cord stimulator (SCS) implanted in my back to treat the pain caused by my CRPS. I’m excited and scared as hell at the same time. It’s hard to imagine that something foreign will be in my body but at the same time, if it’s going to treat the pain, I don’t care. I feel like a rat on some guided maze. They’re making me go through all these hallways and loops before they’ll treat me with the medications I want. I’m not faking it, I’m not making this up. Insurance collecting at it’s best. I’m sleepy, but will make a valiant effort to continue this conversation tomorrow.