Welcome to the rants and musings that will burst forth from the twisted, warped folds of my brain. I must warn you that you may encounter very dark matter. You may also encounter a few moments of light and funny business. Whatever the case, I’m not writing this and publishing it for the world for pity. I’m not writing it for attention. I’m writing it as a way to vent growing pressure inside this tortured body and to feed the curiosity of certain people around me who often wonder what goes on in my mind. I may maintain a cool, calm exterior, but there’s sometimes a volcano bubbling over inside. It occasionally erupts.
Those who’ve known me for years know I’m not an open book. I’m not easy to read and I usually maintain a decent poker face. Some of my more psychic and perceptive friends and family members are able to read me. I can tell by the little smirks and knowing glances when they look at me in certain situations.
Those who’ve known me for many years also know the wild ride I’ve endured in my 40 years of life. It started out rough by being born two months early. It hasn’t been all that easy since then. I’m currently battling the autoimmune disorder myasthenia gravis (MG) in addition to other, not-as-life-threatening issues. I was diagnosed in July 2012 after showing light signs of it for more than a year. Given the rather fast-paced, deadline-driven life I’ve had for most of my life, it is taking some serious adjusting. I hate feeling limited or feeling as if I can’t keep up and that I now have to really focus on pacing myself regardless of what others want or need from me. Of all the battles I’ve faced, this one is proving to be the most mentally and physically challenging.
I’m grateful to still have around me two very cool parents who’ve managed to keep the ship upright through all sorts of storms. They’re two people in my small network who’ve kept me from going off the deep end since this battle started. They’re also two of perhaps seven or eight people alive today I can turn to without fear of being judged, ridiculed, or berated on those rare occasions I do happen to open up about what’s bothering me.
A few people will be invited to read this. They can share it with others if they like. Others may happen to stumble upon this loveliness—I hope you enjoy some of it and, perhaps, manage to experience a laugh or two at my expense. Names of people and some places will be changed or just omitted to avoid the I’ll-sue-you-for-libel-happy people out there. Mind your p’s and q’s and I won’t be tempted to write about you here! 🙂 Seriously.
This blog will be the most open I’ve ever been with anyone in this world. I’m not looking for comments or suggestions unless I actually ask for them. Just consider this a space for Jane Doe to express her day’s frustrations—and occasional delights and humorous moments—with you. You, the reader, will also get something from this—you will know what I’m thinking—for those of you who care to know!
Oh, by the way, those of you who are invited by me to read this, I triple dog dare you to ask me if I was referring to you in a post. If you feel touched or a bit guilty after reading a post, there’s a good chance you or perhaps someone else served as the inspiration behind it. Everything is not always about YOU. If you think you’re the offender, just correct your actions and don’t set me off again or I’ll have to just punch you in the face!