Happy birthday to fiannaharpar, mizarchivist, and zoethe!
Still recovering. Mostly okay.
Musings on Drama
From a friend's friends-only post: "If someone does something that hurts you, and you respond to it, or comment about it, or write about it...is that drama?"
In my perception, no. In the perception of people who strike out to deliberately hurt one, yes. I've stopped talking about the shit that other people do to me because even the words "That's not true" cause these people to hoot and howl like monkeys in the zoo. (At least the feces they throw is metaphorical.) But really, their premise is idiotic. "If you prick me, do I not bleed?" goes back to Shakespeare. Why am I not allowed to bleed, to react? Why is my friend not allowed to? Why is saying "That's not true" or "that's not what happened" drama-mongering? Why is one not allowed to defend oneself?
I welcome thoughts on this. I'm disturbed to find that my friend is having to deal with it as well. It's one of those things that you don't want anyone to have to understand.
Related - someone took her post as an opportunity to take a series of nasty swipes at me, continuing even as my friend asked her to knock it off. My friend's post had nothing to do with me, so this was just another example of les pathetiques grabbing every opportunity to smear me and try to convert people to my way of thinking. This person chose the wrong tack with my friend, though - calling me a hypochondriac and I liar re: my medical conditions. My friend was reading me when I was first diagnosed with epilepsy, though, has seen me go through everything, and through parallel experiences of her own and just knowing me, she knows full well I'm not lying. Les pathetiques will claim I'm lying about everything. I've heard it bandied about that I've lied about the rape (I've had people attack me in comments in my posts about it), too. I do not understand a) why they think this, that I lie about things like that and my medical stuff and b) why they would want to think this, why they would concoct this Bizarro universe.
I'll say this, copied from my response to my friend, re the pathetiques that took advantage of my friend's post of distress to shriek like a monkey and call me a liar regarding my medical stuff - their current party line is that I seem to be "magically cured" whenever I get a new "disease-of-the-week". Emphasis new on this post:
I will say that, unfortunately, none of my "diseases*" are "magically cured" or just go away. I'm on Lyrica for the seizures, Toprol for my heart, and Cymbalta and painkillers (and yoga!) for the fibro. It's not a matter of things going away, it's a matter of finding a good treatment regimen. I don't talk about my seizures very much anymore because I haven't had one since September, not because I'm "magically cured". (I wish!)
The only thing I had that's gone away is the ulcer. But ulcers are, in fact, an easily treatable condition.
(*fibro is a syndrome rather than a disease, and my heart condition is not heart disease, it's merely a condition - specifically PVCs and supraventricular tachycardia.)
Let's take this one by one.
* I have probably had epilepsy since childhood. My mom thinks, in retrospect. I was diagnosed in 2003. I went through hell trying to find a medication that didn't destroy my mind and body, and still treated the seizures. Don't believe me? Read my LJ - I've been told that my writing style changed noticably on each medication. Look at my pictures - I lost 50 pounds, lost half my hair. I have not stopped having epilepsy. That does not happen. What has happened is that I've found a medication that controls the seizures and doesn't fuck me over too much. This is what's supposed to happen.
* My heart flutters, it does extra beats, it does a thing where it feels like sneakers in the dryer. Out of everything I've gone through these last few years, though, this has been the easiest to handle - the first med they tried me on worked like a charm. Again - this is what's supposed to happen.
* Took them forbloodyever to find the ulcer. They were looking for cancer, at first. They were looking for anything that might explain the continuing uncontrollable weight loss. They found it, they fixed it. Again - this is what's supposed to happen.
Other than my fibro pain and fatigue, my body's wackiness is mostly under control. I'm not "magically cured". I, who used to choke when swallowing pills, will have to take medication every morning and every night for the rest of my life. I wouldn't rate that as a miracle cure. I'd rate that as finding ways to manage the illnesses.
Any. Fucking. Questions?
String Theory cribsheet!
Now I go play KoL.