Nothing New to Report

I must admit, I have a fairly boring life. I haven’t blogged much because there just hasn’t been a whole lot of interesting stuff going on in my life. I’ve been adulting, which is boring. The part of adulting that sucks the worst for me is that I am adulting far beyond my age. I hurt from old Arthur like someone at least twice my age.

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Guess what. I wrote last year about our birth month. It is just around the corner again now. Only this time Brady will be 16 and all of my worries will multiply. It is so scary sending your teenaged son out into the world with his own set of car keys. Possibly, the scariest part of parenthood. Here’s their freedom, to some extent, will they make good decisions? Did you do your part for him to know and do better? How will this unfold? Not to mention the thought of your baby flipped over somewhere on the side of the road because he hasn’t answered the phone.

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We’ve all done it. We’ve all came tenfold on the annoying things our parents used to say to us. Just last night I uttered the words “if you lock that door again, I’m going to take it off the hinges.” “What if the house caught on fire?” I internally giggle because I know I was told this more than once in my life. My father has some sort of fear of things going up in flames. Every house my sister or I have moved into has to pass the fire alarm inspection at his first visit. And if it doesn’t, you’re going to hear about it at least weekly until it is ratified.

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I don’t know if it is just my body, but you would think cold weather would be much harsher on an RA, MCTD, problem-ridden body.  I hurt far worse during the summertime.  I’m not sure if it is the rain, the heat, the humidity, or a combination of them all. I just know that it isn’t fun. And I am not able to go do all of the fun summertime things because the sun is NOT my friend.

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I think I have always held a deep hatred for heat. I can put on more clothes to keep warm in the winter than I can take off to keep cool in the summer. My body sure tries to take things off though. I melt. I sweat, I stink, and most of all, I’m miserable.

 

I am hopeful that I will start blogging more. I can’t make any promises though. I just don’t have a whole lot new and interesting going on and unlike most people, I am hibernating for the summer. I am binge watching whatever I can find. I am working as much as I can. I am adulting. Are we having fun yet?

Diplomas for All

i283163839591050357._szw480h1280_Well, tomorrow is the day I get to report the non-progress I’ve been experiencing. I know I have said this a lot here lately, but I mean really? How much is it going to rain? For the love of God and all of my aching body parts let’s put an end to this unstable air PLEASE?

 

I have been fairly absent from the blogging scene lately. Between school ending and mother in law in the hospital and me feeling like the tin man needing several squeaks of oil, I’ve just been burnt out. Something I seriously don’t understand: why in the world do we need to have these grand graduations after every single school year? Why did I have to attend my 6-year-olds graduation, my 10-year-olds, and my 17-year-olds girlfriends all in one week? Hers I understand. Graduating high school is sort of a big deal, but the others are just part of life. Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing my kids be rewarded for doing good in school, but I didn’t have these graduations and all these goings on in my time and I think, I hope, that I turned out okay.

 

Maybe I’m old-fashioned, I don’t know for sure. But see, in my time passing school was something you were expected to do. Every. Single. Year. And if you did, then you did what you were supposed to the next grade up and if you didn’t then you got to try to get it right the next year in that same grade. I guess there’s not enough opportunity to build these little butter cups up in this day in age. We must give everyone a graduation and an award, just for participating. It’s sad really.

 

So now it’s summertime and there’s one GREAT thing about summertime and that is that we get to sleep in. I don’t have to get up and shuffle kids around to schools. I get to spend all day with these kids and trust me when I say this. I love them. I love them more than anything in this world. And still, I have to say those two sentences to myself several times a day to keep from hollering at them. They fight and argue and tattle tell ALL DAY LONG. And there’s a small period of time they’re being unusually quiet and liking each other for a moment I go in to check on them and they’ve made the biggest messes one could imagine. They can turn this house into a scene on hoarders in nothing flat. Which in turn I make it into a scene as well. But not on hoarders. On Snapped.

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My Life Abbreviated

My Story Goes Something Like This:

I have recently been diagnosed with an incurable disease. In my journey to this diagnosis which feels like a final diagnosis amongst many abbreviated diagnoses’ lead me to feel like I needed to reach out to others. This condition is an invisible illness, one that makes me a member of the chronically awesome crowd, a spoonie, a silent sufferer if you will. These too are terms I am just now learning. This is not my first blog and although it will repeat a lot of what I have already written, it will leave some out. Because there are some parts of my story that I have told which required me to remain anonymous. I no longer want to be unknown. So, I suppose I should edit some parts out.

Please note: If there are any people close to me who read this blog and their feelings get hurt in any way, it is not my intention but simply the way I felt at any given time. I think if nothing else in this country we live in, we are still allowed to have our own opinion and we are still allowed to voice them. With that being said let me start.

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First of all, let me do something I have yet to do in this writing journey which is introduce myself. My name is Melissa and I am a proud mother to 5 great children. (See picture above of a rare moment which we ALL smile for the camera together) I love them with every fiber of my being, but if you are a parent you will understand my repeateded need to vent about them from time to time. Parenting alone is enough to drive many people crazy. I’m just wingin’ it here. Hopefully I don’t mess them up in any way because in this life I think it is the most important thing I’ll ever do. Raise them to know they’re loved, to be able to love themselves and others, to learn hurt and how to recover, to learn hard work, and to learn to have fun in life. And since they are mine, they’ll have to learn to learn from their mistakes. Lord knows, I’ve made many. But I think those mistakes are the ones I learned the most from.

This blog is about my daily struggle with mixed connective tissue disease and all of the other abbreviations I have been diagnosed with along the way. Isn’t it crazy how we abbreviate so many things? Like, is it really too complicated or too much work to just come out and say the words? My son has started this new thing where instead of laughing, he says, “LOL”. Really son? Isn’t it easier just to actually laugh? You know, OUT LOUD? He’s 14 and thinks he’s really cool so when I say things like that to him, I’m just not cool enough to know that saying “LOL” is cool. One day when he’s much older and wiser he will realize how stupid some of the things he does at this stage in his life are and he will look back and LOL about it.
So what lead me to decide to start a blog? Well, abbreviations of course. I’ve been given many. Some stuck, some have not. But almost every single one that I have been given has been a struggle.

 

It all started in elementary school when I was given a test for ADD/ADHD. I passed this test. Or some would say failed it. I guess it depends on whether or not you see it as a glass half full or half empty sort of thing. I mean, failing tests was what caused me to be tested in the first place, so this time I considered myself having passed this one. I had an answer, or at least in my little mind, I did. I knew now why any amount of studying I did wouldn’t show in my test and why my friends had better grades than I did even though I never saw them study.
I was going to finally fit in I thought. This magic medicine will solve everything. Boy, was I ever wrong?

 

My principal wouldn’t even accept that I was ADD. “She doesn’t have ADD, she’s such a pretty little girl” she would say. “You need to have her retested, they got it wrong”. Being diagnosed with ADD in the 80’s was a different ballgame than it is today. Note that I didn’t say ADHD. Yes, friends, I have never had a hyper bone in my body. I wish sometimes that I did. That way I didn’t procrastinate as much as I do, or maybe I would have the energy to do the things my mind wants to do, but I just can’t. I have no reason as to why, but I just don’t follow through with things as I should. I’ve been wanting to write a blog for the longest time and I just haven’t. And I don’t have an excuse.
This blog is going to cover so much more than ADD. This is just where it all began for me. So this is what I am going to start with today. I can’t cover it all in one day. My body will no longer allow me to sit and type for too long and my mind jumps from one thought to another so keeping up with me from a reader’s standpoint may prove to be challenging if I didn’t keep each post short and sweet.

A.D.D. Attention Deficit Disorder
L.D. Learning Disability
GM General Manager
SR Sales Representative
TMJ Temporomandibular Joint Dysfunction
DSM District Sales Manager
C.O.P.D. Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease
G.E.R.D. Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease
FM Fibromyalgia
A.D.H.D. Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder
R.A. Rheumatoid Arthritis
FM (again) Fibromyalgia
M.C.T.D. Mixed Connective Tissue Disease

As stated before I am almost positive I have left some out, but you get the gist of it. Those last three have been the hardest thus far and they are what have led me here to write this blog. Because I don’t know anyone else who suffers with this right now, I kind of feel alone with it. And I don’t want a pity party, but I do want to know what is normal. Am I normal? I know I’m not, but am I kind of normal? These are the questions you ask yourself when you have been doubted by so many. Even the very doctors that eventually came up with these diagnosis’. Sometimes, even my own family. So why wouldn’t I question myself?