HeartStrung

I am a spoonie. (For more information you can find The Spoon Theory  written by Christine Miserandino  here .) I am happy to be a part of this community. This is a group of some of the most compassionate, honest, accepting, supportive people. It feels a little bit like I've finally found my tribe. But I also seem to have a hard time accepting my inclusion. Even after 4 years, I still dabble with denial. This past weekend we all went out to do errands. I felt horrible but didn't particularly want to stay home alone and leave Mr. Amazing to get all the groceries and  help Clone 1 shop for clothes (because this is not an easy task) so I piled into the car with everyone and hoped we wouldn't be gone too long and that I'd be able to manage the car ride and all the stops. Four hours later we came back home and I took up residence in the rocking chair while pain took up residence in my legs. I had made it through the day with smiles and enthusiasm but it took ...

"Privilege is a headache  that you don't know  that you don't have." ~Ani Difranco  I remember playing on the stairs when I was growing up. I liked to put my little pink bunny on the railing, propped against the wall, and send it sliding down the banister to the floor. Occasionally, I'd try to race the bunny to the bottom, to be there to catch it before it fell. Sometimes I had my sister or my friend stand at the bottom and catch the bunny. I'm not exactly sure why I found this activity so enjoyable but I did and I hoped that some day my own children might come up with their own stairway-fun. My in-laws have a nice long stairway in their home leading to a basement. The clones liked to roll stick cylinders down the steps when they were younger. They would race their sticks and rank them according to which rolled the farthest. Now they hang out on the stairs with stuffed animals and action figures and they run up and down them numerous times throug...

I had to go to the dentist today. Admittedly, I don't go out much anymore. Partly because I don't drive. Partly because I don't often feel well enough to go out. Partly because I worry about what will happen. I sat down in the chair and had to tell the hygienist to beware of my twitching. It was mildly embarrassing to bring up but we just moved on and I willed myself not to twitch, especially not to twitch my head because I was afraid I might get stabbed by their torture tools. (Is it just me? Their tools are creepy and archaic looking, right?) Wishing and willing it not to happen doesn't usually heed the desired results but it is all I can do. I have absolutely no control over my twitching. My head didn't jerk. Well, okay, that's not quite true. It didn't twitch at all while she had tools in my mouth. There were a couple head and full body twitches that happened behind her back. There were a number of subtle arm and leg twitches that went seemingly un...

I met one of Mr. Amazing's coworkers this week. She is kind and funny and has an infectious laugh. She is 32 years old. I remember my early 30's. I'd waited my whole life for these years, anticipating that I'd be wiser, calmer, put together. I remember things were good when I turned 32. Both clones were in elementary school and I spent time in their classrooms, getting to know their peers, their teachers, their school. I loved it there. I had a job at a day care and spent my mornings with my favorite demographic: 2-5 year olds. I had friends and interacted with people. The laundry was always done. The bathrooms were always clean. I played outside with the clones and took them hiking and to hands-on museums. We had play dates and birthday parties. We had fun. But that was all before. Three months after turning 32, I got sick. "May I ask what you are sick with?" Coworker said. I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. They can't figure it out....