So, hey there world, I sort of forgot I had a blog. I guess I didn’t forget forget, but I kept thinking I’d write something, and then I didn’t, and it just became a thing I didn’t really engage with anymore. But then I went back and opened up a few of my old posts and was really impressed by how long-winded I was and how many comments you lovely people had left.
I guess the reason I’m coming back is that I still don’t see much in the online RA/Fibro communities that sounds like something I would say or do. I am not zen. I refuse to slow down, I am not going to take moments to be mindful of the way RA has changed my life for the better (it hasn’t, I’m sorry, I refuse to even entertain this idea), and I am going to use the word “fuck” a lot when I tell you how much it sucks. I am not poetic, I am not deep, I’m just a girl with a disease or two.
A lot of things have happened since the last time I posted. Let’s make a list, shall we?
1. I switched from Humira to Enbrel, which shall heretofore be known as The Elixir of Happiness and Glory.
2. My RA got much better, and my Fibromyalgia got much worse.
3. I quit my teaching job for a whole blogful (for those of you using the metric system, a kiloblog) of reasons, most of which are irrelevant to what we’re talking about here. Now I’m in grad school (for either the 2nd or 3rd time, depending on how you count).
4. I got engaged to the excellent gentleman referenced previously in this blog. We will be getting married whenever all the women in my life collectively bully me into giving a flying shit about planning a wedding ceremony. Probably this winter. No, you can’t see pictures, because I will be wearing a wedding dress and that’s terrifying.
5. I tried every pharmaceutical under the sun to help Fibro, and I’ll probably write a whole post about this because, well, it’s my blog.
6. My rheumatologist officially gave me permission to curse after I blurted out, “Dude, I am sleeping like shit,” and then apologized profusely both for calling him “dude” and for swearing. No confirmation on whether or not it’s ok to call him dude.
7. I got Netflix streaming. I’m not even going to PRETEND that other chronic illness sufferers need to be told why Netflix streaming is awesome.
So that’s that. You’re all caught up. I really do plan to start writing again, so everyone do get appropriately excited. I’m expecting to yap a lot about going on and off various SNRIs and the delicious array of completely bizarre side effects one gets from that, panic periodically about how baaaaadly I want to have kids and how convinced I am that I am going to have flipper babies because of all the medications I’ve tried, list all the words and phrases I have baffled my fiancé with while trying to explain how to rub my muscles (“Can you like, SqueezePush, but not with your fingers specifically so much as with your hands in general? NO DIRECTIONALITY, NO DIRECTIONALITY”), stuff like that.