Two years ago, I woke up on the first of January amongst some of my favorite people and spent the day filled with warm fuzzy feelings. By the end of 2007, however, it seemed that everything had changed. In 2008, I was largely silent blogging-wise. The truth is that I spent much of it lost and confused, often under the haze of new medication and I didn’t want to write about it anymore; I just wanted someone to hold my hand so I could finally let myself cry and be told that everything would be okay. Somehow, I muddled my way through, even as my best friend and I had a falling out, and decided before my last neurologist visit that I would go off medications permanently. It meant giving up control of my body, but regaining that of my mind. A few months later, I graduated with honors and in the holiday season, I celebrated with genuine emotion.

I have not made any New Year’s resolutions for some time, and 2009 won’t be any different in that regard. Nonetheless, I do have a theme word for the year: live. It means that I want to embrace life as fully as I can, with all its beauty and all its flaws, and this time, I will not disappear unto myself.

Stanford Neurology Clinic
Girl from high school who now works as a receptionist there: You’re all set. Well, it was good to see you again!
Me: …yep…

In my list of Places Where It’s Not So Great To Randomly Run Into People, ‘hospital’ probably ranks only under ‘funeral’.

Originally written in June 2008

Touch
(beat)
Touch
(beat)

Contract
Withdraw

Touch
(beat)

Buzzing
Veins
Touch
Pain
Sadness
Relief
Need
Touch

Contract
Withdraw
Contract
Withdraw
Contract
Contract
Contract —
Withdraw

—-

The definition of myoclonus, via Wikipedia.

In the midst of being somewhat of an insomniac tonight, I ironically am craving coffee. I used to drink mochas when stressed because of the oddly calming effect it would have on me. Now it probably wouldn’t be a great idea to pump caffeine into my system anymore.

Tomorrow’s my 4-hour video EEG at Stanford and I am hoping that this test finally shows something useful. I am tired of being poked and prodded and not having them find anything when clearly, something is weirdly wrong with my body, as demonstrated most clearly when my reflexes are tested with tuning forks and I spasm strongly enough to send them flying across the room. I am tired of doctors using words like “remarkable” and “fascinating” to describe me because I’m a patient with shiny new symptoms the likes of which they haven’t witnessed, and yet not following up to test me for anything out of the generic path. I’d like to somehow give life the finger right now just for kicking my ass so much. Given all that’s happened in the last almost four months, I think I’m perfectly justified in having an immature and raw angry moment in which I turn to the universe and say: cunt.