This is a first hand account of a soul riddled with illness and its resulting Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).  It's a view into the havok a long-term disorder can cause on the human psyche. I expose myself, my lust for life, my convictions, my insecurities and mania... finding strength through vulnerability.

This journal is for my own healing but I also hope to impact the hearts of others. If you are sickly, you are not alone. If you are emotionally unstable, you are not alone. If you feel like giving up, DON'T! I am still here; against all odds. I still pursue my dreams, and I will DIE TRYING. I can only hope by inviting people into my psyche without censorship that I may help enable a better understanding of the disabled, especially with regard to the monster that is PTSD.

Visit the library and all you will find, regarding PTSD, are texts that have been written by doctors: their professional observations, their recommended medications, and their assumptions. There is NO first hand account, no guidebook on what to expect, and no raw exposure. I really could have used such a book. And I know that I am not alone. Thus I write to free myself. I write to help others.

Everyday I struggle, I cry, and through it all I remain passionate and I laugh. I possess an inner knowing that I am deserving of joy, worthy of my dreams, and can still make a difference in the lives I touch. 

My journal may have some heavy content that can be upsetting. But it is me, raw and exposed. I also reflect on the joy of friendships, the beauty of love, the gift of experience and the adventure of living. Hesitant yet trusting, I invite you in...

My eyes are bulging and feel like they're gonna pop out of the socket. I'm dizzy. My migraine is lurking. I'm confused. I'm stumbling. I can't find my words. My bones are bitchin. My right leg's in spasm.  I can't sleep. I can't eat. I had a big ol' anxiety attact at the hospital today.  I'm a mess. I even broke down and took my meds. So now I feel like I'm in slow motion. I'm crying. I feel just awful.

Holy shit. The struggle within...

NOTHING is as it seems. The masks, they slide.

Oh to be lost in music and the sound of a soul.

My intentions, innocent. My acts, a cry. This night, crushing.

I loose myself in the sorrow of alienation...

I love you, all of you. For what you've done, what you've given me, and who you are. I've always believed in my friends. I will always be there to remind you of the beauty within. It is my nature to express what I feel. And I LOVE, deeply. Each one of you that impacts my life. I struggle, but I love. Never doubt what you each mean to me...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_AMwUdOA4zI

Spine, twisting. Head, pounding. Mucus, bloody. Discs, herniated. Atrophy, depressing. Nerves, stabbing. Mood, swinging. Medications, looping. Frustration, boiling. Senses, overwhelmed. Sadness, solitude. Tears, choking.

3 days ago my headaches returned, the hot flashes reared up, and I started coughing up blood. In the beginning it was just little bloody veins, but by late last night It was more blood than mucus. Eeeeeweee...I said mucus. It scared the crap out of me.

So, like a big girl, I went to the doctors AGAIN. They decided to test me for TB. WHO gets that anymore? Geez, it's like in 1998 when I came down with Whooping Cough. Haven't these infections been obsolete? I swear, it's me. I have the magnetic pull of all things bacterial and infectious!

Also, where the hell did that come from? Wasn't I JUST on 2 months of antibiotics? Shouldn't that have killed ANY little gremlins lurking in my organs? Ahhhh shit.

So they injected some fluid under my skin on my arm, and we wait until Monday. The say the site should "react" if I'm positive. Personally, I'm hoping for some sort of Father Damien type erosion of the skin. (this reference may be lost on the masses, pun intended!) That'd be a cool photo! Lane get your camera ready!! I don't really think I'll be so lucky. If anything, it'll turn red. Not nearly as exciting.

I'm also going to an allergy specialist next Thursday. See if it's something coming from there. Weee, can't get enough of that damn hospital!!!

Yep. It just never ends. (I should have this t-shirt)

After a full week of mass insomnia, I have finally slept! Instead of a depressing 2 hours of sleep a day, I slept for YESTERDAY. Seriously. All day, all night. Crazy to realize it's Friday. But I'm a happy camper with oodles of energy. Hooray!

I'm almost completely off the cane. Only using it if I have distance to cover. The lower limbs still tremble a bit when tired. I will dance again next week. Mark my words.

Also, I have 3 weeks to meet my goal of Climbing Castle Rock again. If I keep up at the strenuous pace in my physical therapy, I am confident I can do it. I just won't be very fast, and may need quite a few rest stops. I will let you know when I shall climb. So if anyone is up for the challenge, join me. Don't worry if you don't climb often. I'm part gimp now, so the playing field is level!

Bean Farts and Candied Tarts,
Sonja

My place in this country's medical sickness:

I came out of the first round with no money, no job, and no aid. I was denied California State disability because I was chronic. I was told that I had to apply for SSDI. Ok...

Social Security denied me for 2 years claiming 1) that I could not be considered permanently disabled because of my periods of remission and 2) that there was not "verifiable evidence of illness". WHAT?? What the hell is coma? What about the $375,00 medical debt I accrued while the hospital saved my life?(in 2004-imagine what I'm at now!) The years of medications, all of it. My mother took them to the court of appeals and finally won on that level 8 months ago.

Meanwhile, I have NO health insurance. No physical therapy. No preventative medications. No help. I apply for Medi Cal and get denied. This time for all kinds of B.S. Including the amount of my debt that they would need to take on. I was too expensive.

During the fight I couldn't help but think that my country would rather let me die to save a buck, than to take on a complicated unknown ailment that's ongoing. 

I was just sitting here thinking. Something I seem to do way too much of.

Maybe it's the insomnia. Maybe it's the inevitable "meaning of life" thoughts that creep upon you in your thirties. Maybe it's a biological clock that fights my logic. Maybe it's my fear that couples my strength. Maybe it's envy of seeing so many people sleeping next to one another. Maybe it's my passion and loyalty drying up from lack  of outlet...

 Who knows why I ponder so often. Why I wish for things to be different. All the while, acceptful of my fate, and challenged to be the best person I can. But today.....I wonder...

Can you love someone you don't even know? Can your heart truly know that their soul exists? Can every nerve fiber pulse with confidence that they await your arrival? Can you be completely in love with someone you don't even know is out there? Can you love a ghost into reality?

I spent many years loyal to one. I will never regret that. I learned a lot about myself and about the world through his eyes. We remain friends, and he's done well for himself. I couldn't be more proud.

But I haven't fared as well. 6 years past, and I remain guarded of my heart. Subconsciously and consciously choosing things that can never work. Not wanting to burden another with the chaos loaded in my luggage set. Could this be a cop out? Perhaps. I think I just haven't been ready to truly take a chance.

 I protect others from my chaos. Not wanting to put anyone through what I endure. It's a really bad sales pitch: "Here baby, love me. Watch me sickly knowing you'll feel helpless. Know that you can't stop it. Get frustrated. Get scared. Ride an emotional rollercoaster and memorize my medications. I promise to love you through my drooling and my remissions. You'll get horny when I can't hump, then you'll seek another to feed the hunger. Eventually the stress will be too much and I will push you away."  No, not the best sales pitch at all...

Yes, I have a superman complex. Yes, I'm a natural caregiver that wants to protect people I love. Yes, these are my insecurities, my fears, AND my knowledge. I may never have developed such fears, had they not happened. I do not blame any of them. People can only handle what they can. This I accept. And so, I protect.

 I protect my own heart. With each episode, I am terrified. The LAST thing I need in that moment is for someone to walk out the damn door and break my heart on top of it. Been there. Didn't care for it.

But is this changing?

With all this perfectly shiny armor I wear, what is that little tickle in my guts? The one that feels so in love. With life, with beauty, with song, and with a ghost I can not see. How can I be such a hopeless romantic, and simply trust my instinct? Why does it feel so pure, so real? I feel like I'm in love. And someone loves me too....

And then I remember,  I'm a wee bit off kilter. But slight lunacy aside, I think my faith has returned. Maybe I'm ready to lay it down, and wait for my ghost to materialize.

Tomorrow they "Check the poo" Toxic megacolon is a current issue. I'm schedualed to see a ear, nose, and throat specialist. An MRI of my brain, neck, spine, and colon are also getting set up. The lymph nodes in my neck are swollen. Wish me luck and come see me!

My only source of laughter these days:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BDd0XseGtU

Off ALL antibiotics after a month and a half. Yipee! Still suffer from the poopies and da' farts, but it's getting better. The distension in my belly is better. I no longer look 6 months pregnant! The bacterial infection in my blood finally cleared up.

My dizziness and atrophy are still prevelant. As are nausea, migrains, and eye pain. So, darvocet, meclizine, and promethazine are still on the occassional menu. I'm trying to be more active, but damn it hurts something fierce. My nerves and muscles are seriously PISSED OFF!