La la la la...

Dear EL James: You make me cry angrily and want to litter the planet with pamphlets about abusive relationships. Because the very idea that people, humans, let alone women, cheerfully want the kind of relationship detailed in this series, makes me want to scream in complete, absolute, numbing horror. I don't care what the excuse is. I don't fucking care.
Also, I don't want any of that defensive "but it's escapist romance" shit. If you liked reading it for whatever reasons, good for you, have some applause and a cookie. Really, hooray, you liked it. Yeah, I get that some women who enjoyed it have found their sexual and emotional lives or whatever improving and that they think it's a cute fantasy and they liked the characters, etc, but guess what, I still don't care. I personally hate this book series. I am horrified beyond the abyss. I wish I had never heard about this monster of a book series.

Dear Jennifer Armintrout: Thank you for taking on the amazingly monumental task of recapping this entire book using humor and making me laugh in the face of creepiness. Reading these humorous recaps, with Jennifer pointing out how fucking insane it all is, gives me hope.
http://jenniferarmintrout.blogspot.com/2012/06/50-shades-of-grey-chapter-26-recap-or.html
http://jenniferarmintrout.blogspot.com/p/jen-reads-50-shades-of-grey.html

Wow, it's been a while since I've felt so much anger over a simple book and its bizarre wild attention. I am calm now. This is why I have a journal, after all.

In unrelated news: I feel like hell, but my makeup is pretty. Tomorrow, our new couch arrives. All three cats are being ridiculously adorable. I want to take a nap, but I need to wait for the Comcast technician to deliver the new modem with battery. I should go downstairs and reheat a bowl of buckwheat noodles with seaweed, because I haven't been hungry beyond yogurt all day, and that is not fair to myself.

No, Seriously, It's Hilarious!

Dear Migraine and Other Painful Things: Stop laughing at me. It's not funny anymore. Bah. No, wait, it is. It's Funny Ouch and also Funny Oh Crap and also Funny This Sucks.

The sky needs to rain already. The weather forecasters say it will rain already. I do hope they are right. If it's true, I hope the guys delivering the new couch tomorrow will cover the couch in plastic or something. It's microfiber suede, after all.

In the mail today, I got to see records from doctors and psychologists and neurologists that my lawyer had put together, and everything mentioned that I had Severe Problems With Just About Everything. Since we had been trying for a disability approval, that was... good, I guess? But as a general human thing, it is... very not good. I will most certainly be following up with doctors and such once we can really afford it. Also, according to the psychology records, it would appear that my "total intelligence" has dropped quite a lot while specific intelligence quotients like vocabulary and grammar and such are still awesome like supterstars. But I never liked IQ tests. I find them generally pointless. I even had a long fantastic discussion with friends over it.

My mother is very paranoid about my talking about this with "people online" and I said "You mean the people I'm very close to who are my friends? Because I wouldn't discuss this in any public forum and especially not in detail, and especially since right now even I don't have all the details, and even when I get all the details I'm not going to talk about it?" I'm not going to broadcast my financial specifications online, not even privately. I don't think people would care, and even if they did, I wouldn't toss around major details. My mother was still skeptical. I did call her out on her sounding paranoid, and she agreed, but she called it concern. It's very hard to explain the internet to someone who never goes on the internet. I get it, there is deep concern and skepticism because in a few months I will have more money than I have now, and maybe unfriendly people from the internet will decide to trick me and gain access to the money. Which is why, some time ago, I made sure that if I were to order anything online or put my financial information online, I would do my best to wipe out any trace, which can be highly difficult but workable. Mom is still skeptical, but that's okay. It's good to be skeptical and ask skeptical questions, even when the consistent answer involves the words "privacy" and "close friends" because on the internet sometimes those words mean absolutely nothing.

Anyway... how are you guys? I feel run over by a truck, which is normal, hah hah.

Because It Is Important.

So, right. *nods*
The disability lawyer had mailed me the many-paged document that he had given to the judge, a document which included snippets of my blog entries documenting my epileptic seizures, fibromyalgia pains, migraines, cerebral palsy spasticity, nerve pains, memory issues, etc. It also included what the sympathetic psychologist had said, which kind of makes me sad, because according to that, my brain is beyond screwed. Like, parts of it are so damaged from birth trauma that I may never be able to do certain things mentally and there is expressed surprise that I have come this far under my own power, that I have been strong enough to ride through and triumph as much as I have.
At the hearing, the judge himself commended me several times for my lifetime of self-driven strength and commitment. I've always thought it was nothing, because I will not lie down, I will not run away, because I can't, because it's my own brain, it's what I've always done, it shouldn't be surprising. It's just me.
Ah, and the lawyer even included the blog post snippet in which I said that that I had only come out of a seizure because one of my cats (Rose, I think) was licking me. Aww. The point is, the judge was a sweetheart and approved me, and also he liked hearing about my three cats, because they are all adorable anyway.
In a few weeks things will happen as they need to happen, and I will start getting the real honest help I desperately need. I may never work a full time job again, but at least someone has decided that it is time for me to get major help.
The good part is that the higher doses of Trileptal and Klonopin are actually helping. The good part is that I'm learning some lovely meditative stretching exercises (I don't call them "yoga poses" anymore for reasons) that have helped the back pains and muscle spasms.
I am never going to be "cured" - that is impossible (and don't tell me it is possible, because you are not me and I know things you don't). But I can be treated, remedied, therapied, pilled, what have you. I can get better. I have finally been given a chance to really get to the heart of all these syndromes with their medical names and sources and reasons. That's all I really wanted. And to anyone else out there fighting to get the same kind of approval, I wish you all the luck I can give.