Seek...and ye shall find?

I'm actively pursuing a diagnosis again...and it's so exhausting. It just drains me emotionally, mentally, and physically. It's this crazy stew of emotions, all swirling together, constantly at the forefront of my mind. It makes it hard to focus on anything else or just be able to relax. Anxiety, hope, pessimism, anger, frustration....there's just so much there, because it's been so long (almost 15 years)....and I just want to know what's wrong with me.

For a few years, I stopped caring (or at least told myself I didn't care) about getting a diagnosis, because it's so wearying, the cycle of  having tests proposed, getting the blood drawn, then waiting....waiting...waiting for the results to come back and finding out they're negative yet again.

And the doctors and other medical people I've dealt with, in general, just don't care that much and suck at following up. I have to hound them, over and over again, to get any kind of response back. That's why I'm done dealing with the Muscular Dystrophy Association Clinic (which is a whole post on its own). They are absolute crap at follow-up unless you badger them multiple times. It was very evident that I wasn't seen as a human being, with feelings and worries, full of pain and questions; I was a combination of symptoms that didn't fit nicely into an easy diagnosis, a blood test, a research project, something to think about in a distant and academic way. Their genetic counselor seems to act like she only has to talk to me when I go in for my yearly visit, even though she has all my contact info. She doesn't update you on anything--it's just radio silence for months and months. Supposedly they were having issues with the lab that runs some of their blood tests this last year, but she never bothered to let me know. And then she just "forgot" to call or email me with the results. I didn't even know the lab results were back until I got a bill for it! How hard is it to send a simple email? There was only ever one, ONE! doctor I was seen by at the MDA clinic that made me feel cared for and considered as a person...and he recently left.

I have no desire to be handed off to another academic, research paper oriented doctor who could care less about the patient in front of him. I never got any advice from the MDA on how to actually live with my illness, besides one nurse telling me to take an obscene amount of ibuprofen every day. One doctor said, "Well, you're not nearly as bad off as my other patients," as if that somehow meant I didn't need to seek physical therapy or other treatments to improve my quality of life because I wasn't incapacitated and severely disabled. I was never given any advice or suggestions on ways to maintain my muscle strength or energy levels. It was just tests, tests and more tests, and sometimes having to wait more than a year, let me repeat, MORE THAN A YEAR, to get back results from tests that take maybe a few weeks to do.

I was so turned off by the way I was treated by the MDA that I just shut off for a while. I couldn't take the emotional roller coaster anymore. I didn't even want to go to the regular doctor unless I was sick with something easily fixed, like an ear infection or something. The emotional strain is so hard, and doctors just don't get that. I am the one watching my body fall apart bit by bit, I am the one living with fatigue and pain, I am the one worried about the future (What if I wind up in a wheelchair? What work can I do that won't exhaust me? How can I have kids if I'm this tired and weak all the time? etc, etc), I am the one who has to live with it all day in and day out. And it can be so weighty and just overwhelming at times.

I have been struggling a lot emotionally since last summer. I have been feeling really, really down about being sick over the last several months. I have cried with Colin on multiple occasions and shared with him how utterly lonely and overwhelming it can be some days. It just feels sometimes like no one cares, that I am utterly alone in my desire to find out what the hell is wrong with me, that I am just another appointment the doctor crosses off their list for the day.

And I tried to not care for awhile, to put all those emotions away, but it just keeps coming back: I want a name to put to all these symptoms. I. Just. Want. To. Know.

I don't want a pat on the head and to be sent on my way, told that at least I'm not as bad off as other patients. I don't want to be told to keep waiting and waiting, and maybe someday someone somewhere will get around to figuring out what's wrong with me. I don't want to keep being told what I don't have. I don't want to hear any more academic jargon that just describes my symptoms (I live with it every day, I know what my symptoms are, thankyouverymuch). I don't want to be dismissed, as if I don't have any insight to offer because I don't have MD after my name. I don't want answers to questions I didn't ask or care about.

I want a little compassion, some empathy, acknowledgement that I am a living, breathing human being who has been struggling along for almost 15 years now with no clue as to what is making my body slowly but surely fall apart. That even though I keep hitting wall after wall, I have kept trying to find an answer.

And now, maybe, a lead of some kind. I'm trying so hard to not get my hopes up about this, but I'm going to get tested for celiac disease in a couple weeks. I have been doing a lot of research on celiac recently, and have discovered that people with unexplained neuropathy (which is what I have) should get tested, as a certain percentage of people will have celiac disease. (thank you, Celiac Disease Center for helpful and accurate info!) My younger brother, Andrew, and my grandma both have celiac, which puts me at a strong likelihood of also having it.

I can't let myself get too excited, because it could all come back negative yet again. But I so hope that this is it. That finally, finally! I will have an answer, a diagnosis, the reason for why I have been sick for so long. Yeah, switching to eating gluten free would be inconvenient at first, but I would be more than willing to make the change if that's what has been making me sick all these years. I will also be spitting mad at the MDA, because that's such an easy thing to test for.

Fingers crossed, I will know in a few weeks.

Acceptance

I asked to have grab bars installed in my bathroom today.

I should have done it right after we first moved in two years ago...but I am a prideful person and didn't want to admit that I need them.
Maybe when I fell out of the shower last summer and bashed my back against the toilet, that might have been a good sign it was time to ask.
Or the fact that when I close my eyes, I have pretty much no sense of balance and need to hold on to something or else I start tipping over. Well, even with my eyes open, it's not much better. Sometimes my balance just suddenly dissipates , and I need to grab hold of something solidly anchored to prevent a face-plant.

Either way, I finally swallowed my pride and stopped by the apartment complex office today, fighting anxiety that I would have to fight to get what I need or provide a lengthy justification. But it was surprisingly.... easy. The office manager didn't even bat an eye, just put in an order for the maintenance guy to install the grab bars. Her response was really kind: "Oh, we've put in plenty of those. We probably have some on hand already, so it shouldn't take too long to get them installed."
I don't know what I was expecting really (the front office here is always so helpful and quick to take care of problems), but all the anxiety rushed out of me like a deflating balloon, and I immediately felt so much lighter.
I guess there's a part of me that always expects people to not be helpful or understanding, that their response will be something along the lines of, "Why? You don't look sick." I expect to be shot down rather than supported.

Maybe some of that comes from living in denial for so long about my health. I mean, I know I'm sick and have physical disabilities, but for the last 12 years there's always been a part of my brain that just hasn't accepted it. That side of me held to the belief that the next test or specialist or clinic would reveal my illness was an easily fixable problem, and I would be healthy and whole again. Not held back by weakness and fatigue, or having to plan my days based on how tired I am, or scrapping plans midday because my energy just took a nosedive. There was that voice in my head that said I didn't have to deal with any of this, because eventually it would just go away and I could go back to being healthy and normal.

And I think it's finally hit me and truly sunk in that I am sick and it isn't ever going to go away. I have an undiagnosed form of neuropathy, and I've been waiting for that magical diagnosis for more than a decade to fix everything...but I have to deal with this in the here and now; I can't keep waiting for "someday when I know what's wrong with me" to take charge of my health. Because there isn't some fairy godmother/doctor who is going to appear, wave their magic wand and make it all better. If I'm going to take better care of myself this year and be a stronger advocate for what I need, I have to be realistic about my health and what I can and cannot do.

I think the last 12 years have been me slowly making my way through the five stages of grief. I've cycled through the first four--denial, anger, bargaining, depression--for years, but haven't ever truly gotten towards acceptance up until now. Just because I've been able to talk about my health more openly in recent years doesn't mean I had truly come to terms with it. I can have a normal conversation about what my illness entails and not fall apart sobbing on someone, but that doesn't mean I'm anywhere close to okay with it.

I can't advocate for myself effectively if I'm not honest about what my needs are. I need to admit my weaknesses and disabilities, because how can I improve my daily life otherwise? I use leg braces to support my legs and feet, which keeps my hips and back better aligned than if I was limping around. I have handicap parking to save energy, especially in the winter when it's cold and icy and it's easy for me to slip in slushy parking lots. I get massage therapy and chiropractic care every three weeks to help maintain my muscle strength and keep my back in good shape. I take my vitamins every day, especially Vitamin D in the winter, because it helps my body function well. I'm trying to eat healthier: this month I added green smoothies to my diet, because it improves my energy levels and gives my body good fuel to run on. I pay attention to my energy levels so I don't over exert myself and get sick. And today I asked to have grab bars installed in my bathroom.

Because I can't keep living in denial. 

People's Emotions

I am an empathetic intuitive person. Meaning I very keenly pick up on others' emotional states and can very easily get a "feel" for who someone is....though I can't always verbalize it right away. Sometimes I feel a "click" when I first meet someone and know that we will be friends eventually (that's what happened when I met my best friend). It's almost like getting a quick outline of who someone is--I don't have all the fine details, but there's an overall sense of who they are as a person.
When someone feels dangerous or unsafe I listen to that now--far too many women are worried about being polite rather than listening to that little voice that's going "DANGER! Back away!" I can tell pretty well when someone is lying or pretending to be someone they're not.

It's nice to be able to "read" people sometimes, but a big downside is that I can get really overwhelmed by someone's emotions. It actually effects me physically, occasionally to the point where I'll get super tired or nauseous feeling or my joints ache. I can't just shake it off, because I feel it so strongly.

Most of the time when I meet a person whose emotional state is off kilter, I don't have to interact with them very much. I can be polite and move on. However when I have to interact on a regular basis with someone whose emotions are very chaotic it's so incredibly draining. It's like constantly getting little electric shocks to MY emotions. I don't know how much that makes sense, so let me try to explain this visually, because that's how I picture it in my mind.
Most people's emotions feel likes this to me:

source: www.wallsave.com

Gentle waves that flow around a person and stay pretty close to them. It might sound new agey, but "aura" is the best word I have to describe this. Most people feel what they're feeling and it doesn't affect those around them too much. It's like everyone is a candle, they each give off a small glow of emotion.

Now someone who is very chaotic emotionally, off balance, not able to process what they're feeling in a healthy way,  in complete denial about their emotional state, or worst of all, someone who needs to foist their feelings onto others for whatever reason, looks likes this in my mind's eye:

source: Wikimedia Commons

And this picture still doesn't quite come across as intense as I'd like. Someone who is chaotic and unhealthy inside, their aura is out of control, it sparks and lashes out, it's like an octopus having a seizure gripping tasers in each tentacle. Instead of a candle flame, it's a forest fire out of control. I feel like I'm constantly getting slapped in the face when I am forced to be around someone like this for any length of time. They aren't doing this on purpose, but it feels very invasive and overwhelming.

And like I said before, usually if I encounter someone like this, I don't have to be around them very long and it doesn't bother me that much. But when I have to be around someone who is both sparking off chaotic emotion while simultaneously sucking away my emotional energy AND can't get away, it's a recipe for mental exhaustion. Seriously it feels like dealing with an emotional vampire! I just want to run away from people like this.

This whole thing has been on my mind lately for a variety of reasons, and partially I wanted to write it down just to sort through it in a logical way for myself. As an intuitive person, I don't naturally think in a linear way and my thoughts tend to come in images rather than words. Also, it can seem a bit "hippie dippie" (even though it's really not) just because the words I have to use to describe all this have some funky connotations in most people's minds. It's just how my brain works though. :)

Searching for something to say

I've pretty much given up blogging regularly for over a year now. Over the years I have started and abandoned more blogs than I care to count. I always start strong, but grow discouraged and give up. I'll read the stuff I've posted from a while back and be amazed at what I've written. Was that really me? I typed that insight with such clarity? Where did I find the words? It's like reading the musings of a different person. I feel so inept at conveying what's in my head. I look back at those old posts and marvel...wondering from what depths I drew.

And then there's always something in me that says I don't have anything worth sharing anyways. That my voice is not unique. That I am merely throwing my words out into the wind of the Web with no impact. So even if I come up with something particularly insightful, who will actually read it? Like a grain of sand on a beach, who is going to be able to see that one speck amidst all the others? What's the point of putting in the effort?

Also, I'm lazy. I lack motivation to sit down and write. I have every intention of posting something new...but Facebook, DeviantArt, Etsy, some interesting time suck of a site distracts me. And then it's been a week, a month, a year, over a year....and it's been so long why should I even bother?

And yet....there's something else in me that pushes me to write, to hit the "Publish" button, to share my new creation with the world. I put it out there, hoping that maybe someone will come along and read and be changed for the better.

I don't know, but I'm going to try. To struggle to gather my thoughts. To make the effort to write them down. To post something, anything. I don't want to abandon yet another project.

Sketching 13

Collages are super fun to make. Sometimes I just randomly grab images I have collected in a folder and try to make something with them. I really like how this one turned out.

Sketching 12

I really like those lattice shapes. I want to do more with them. They're just really fun to draw.

Sketching 11

More microbiology inspired sketches. I'm a little behind in scanning these--this drawing is from December of last year.

God's Grace

This was a note I wrote on Facebook back in December, but it's been a train of thought for me again of late, so I thought I'd share it here:

I  was looking back through my timeline this morning, remembering the drama and craziness of college. Reminiscing about the people who have passed through my life for a season and I no longer keep in touch with, and also the ones who remain dear friends whether near or far.
Skimming through highlights of my life from the past seven years is strange--I forget so quickly the struggles, the times of tears, carrying a wounded spirit and a broken heart. And it's just as easy to forget the joys, the bright moments, the times of happiness and fun, and maturing into someone new. My time in college has started to blur together, and I have to remind myself that those three and a half years were a huge turning point in my life.
I went through a lot and came out the other side a better person, stronger, wiser, more sure of who I am in God. I don't want to forget how good God has been to me, how He walked with me as I went through counseling, challenged me to listen to Him over stupid people, called me to return to Him when I'd messed up, and just loved me where I was.
I'm thankful that He never gave up on me, even though I can be so stubborn and have a thick skull to get through. There were times where God pretty much had to beat me over the head repeatedly for me to be like, "Uh, I think you might be trying to tell me something, Lord?" I'm glad He's more stubborn and patient than I am!
The thing I am most thankful for is that I found my voice. I felt like I had no story, no great purpose to my life--I couldn't see how God was working. But looking back now, I can definitely see it. He was there, when I was a super shy freshman, when I went through an unhealthy relationship for two years, when I was figuring out being an artist, when I was juggling working full time and finishing school, and just figuring out how to be an adult. I couldn't see it at the time, being so caught up in the day to day of life.
But I'm starting to see how He has been directing my life, guiding my uncertain steps, leading me towards something good. And now I'm beginning a new chapter in my life. Not just getting married, though that's huge, but also stepping into new opportunities, accepting new challenges, considering new ideas and ways of doing things, and being open to God's leading down new roads. I don't want to let myself get hung up on the past, staying in a rut and not growing as a person. God wants more from me, I can feel it....and I'm willing to follow Him, to be open and willing to grow into a woman after His own heart (whatever that looks like). 

Starting a new business

I finally stopped talking, and took the plunge today, setting up an Etsy shop. I've been batting the idea around for a few years now, never getting to the point where I actually made the effort to put my words into action. It was always something I'd do "someday," or "when I have the time," or whatever. I had plenty of excuses for why NOW was never a good time. It'd come up in conversation, and I'd list out my ideas and plans, brainstorming as I went....but it never led to anything concrete.

I'm really good at making work but not much selling it. I've probably got over 50 paintings and collages sitting in my parents' basement right now (and another dozen or two stalled works-in-progress). I had a full time retail job for four and a half years that sucked away too much of my energy and focus. By the time I'd get home from work, I'd be too tired to do more than poke around in my studio for a bit. I only had time to work in bits and pieces. I was actually pretty productive, but just didn't have the mental energy to focus on setting up my art as a business.

And then last year, I totally fell off the art making wagon. I barely made anything of consequence in 2012. I wasn't feeling very motivated artistically, and it didn't help that my job was taxing my energy levels more and more. You only have so much to go around when you live with chronic health issues. Then, I started dating Colin, which was absolutely life changing...but I had a decision to make. I had to decide where I was going to focus my energy. Art? Or my relationship? I wasn't going to commit to both and then half-ass it. I knew I had to really commit to one and let the other slide (for a time). I chose Colin. Which turned out well:

photo by Steve Coleman

So, we got married in February, and I quit my job right before our wedding. I didn't have a plan for what I would do next, but I knew I couldn't keep working in retail. I didn't have another job lined up, but after talking with Colin at length about it, we decided that would be the best course of action. My knees, legs and feet were hurting all the time. On my days off, I always had to ration my energy and turn down doing anything that was too draining.
When I quit, I suddenly felt amazing. I felt so energetic and alive--it was quite a dramatic change!

After settling into married life, getting our new apartment in order and just adjusting to a new life, I started job hunting. I've been applying to jobs since February, landing a few interviews here and there, but no solid leads. The market is still competitive, especially for the entry level office positions I've been applying for.

In my free time, I've been getting back into making art more regularly again. But living in a one bedroom apartment, I have less art creating space and need to be more intentional about my projects. I've already finished one street art project in the last couple months. It was a simple, small series and didn't take long to make and distribute. I wanted to settle into my next big, long term project, but didn't want to clutter up my apartment with artwork collecting dust. And I was ready to transition away from the assemblages I'd been making since college. I had started feeling like I was just repeating myself; my work didn't feel like it was evolving or going in any new directions. Being without a job and a lot of free time on my hands, I'd been feeling a bit directionless over the last couple months.

And then my older brother sent me over 50 small boards (about 4inx6in) as a wedding present (art materials are always a great gift!). A small germ of an idea started growing, and I realized now would be the perfect time to finally create that Etsy shop. Here was a chance to challenge myself to work in a more simple and pared down style so that I could make paintings with a more affordable price point.

So I've spent the majority of the day setting up my shop and listing items. I feel really confident in what I've done so far. It's time for me to stop saying, "someday" and starting putting my ideas into action.

You can check out my Etsy shop to browse through more pictures of what I have for sale: http://www.etsy.com/shop/AbstractAmbience

Petri Dish Street Art Series

It's been far too long since I hashed out a street art idea to completion....well, actually any art project for that matter. Over the last year, I've been doodling a lot and jotting things down in my sketchbook...but I haven't actually finished much work. This week that's going to change.

A box of a couple dozen heavy duty glass disc things came my way a while back. I knew they were too awesome to pass up (especially since they were free!), but didn't have any idea what to do with them at the time. They've been stuffed away in my parents' basement until just a few days ago, when I was picking up some more of my art materials. That box of potential has been in the back of my mind for a while--I was just mulling over the possibilities of what I might do with these glass objects. 

Behold, the Petri Dish series! 

Petri Dish #2

Colin actually suggested that name, and it's perfect. The glass circles reminded me of looking through a microscope. And I like microbiological lifeforms, especially creating art that looks like those microbes out of craft supplies.
So, in the next couple weeks, I'll finish creating these and send them out into the wide world. If you want one, just let me know, otherwise you'll have to keep your eyes peeled while out and about in the Twin Cities.

Petri Dish #4

A funny thing happened on the way to being an art superstar

Well, well, well, look who's back! Good grief, I can't believe I haven't posted anything on here since last summer! That's what happens, I guess, when you have chronic fatigue, a huge energy suck of a job, and then start seriously dating someone. There really wasn't much of me to spare. I prioritized the things I felt were most important, or that I had to focus on, and just let everything else go for a while. (I've barely made any art worth noting either. A few collages and sketches, but nothing I felt like sharing.)

As my priorities were shifting over the last 8 months, I realized that my idea of what success is has changed. A few years ago, I was willing to sacrifice relationships and a social life to focus on "my art." That was all that mattered to me, especially after I came out of an unhealthy relationship towards the end of college. I would squeeze in as much art making as possible into my days, whether before work for just a few minutes or staying up a few more hours once I got home. My heart had been burned, and I found solace in the quietness of artistic creation. I was content to fill my free time with playing in my art space.

But then along came Colin, and my world was turned on its head. He won my heart, helped me to see that being a successful artist isn't the most worthwhile thing to pursue, and is just generally encouraging me to be a better person. His influence on my life, from his quiet thoughtfulness to the way he calls me out on my issues without realizing it to observing his heart to serve and help others, has been transformative. I'm still amazed that I caught his attention. Colin has been so huge in helping me to see what true success is, and it has nothing to do with selling lots of paintings or creating a popular blog.

This changes everything!

As my life has completely changed over the last month (quit my job, got married, moved out of my parents' home, renting my first apartment and learning what it means to be a wife), it seems like a good time to solidify new priorities and resurrect dormant ideas and projects. Just today, I submitted a book proposal and started seriously exploring and figuring out how to make a line of jewelry I want to create. And I hope to begin posting semi-regularly on here again, though it is strange to realize that my name is actually different now (it's Morley not Preble anymore).

Telling a tale

I wrote a kids' story this morning. The idea came to me while I was taking a shower this morning and coalesced as I ate breakfast. By the time I made a cup of tea, I'd written it all down. It's just the first draft--there's a lot of editing I have to do now--but it's the one of the few times I've actually finished a story. Usually I have great beginnings and no idea how to create a satisfactory ending. I don't know how many times I've gotten inspiration for a story, wrote a few pages and then had it fizzle out in my head. It's like one of those dud fireworks--shooting up into the air with a bang....and nothing happens. Just a big pile of failure.

Since I was little, I've always read voraciously, I know a good story when I see one. I wasn't interested in writing some derivative dreck or copying someone else's style. If I'm going to write something, I want it to be my voice telling the tale. There are authors I enjoy greatly, and one of the things in common among them all is that their individual voices comes through strong and clear. Neil Gaiman, Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, Tamora Pierce, Madeleine L' Engle....I could go on.

I know I have stories of my own to tell...but I didn't feel like I had anything special to say until very recently. I've created blogs over the years, only to give up on them after a while. I wrote angsty poetry in high school about boys and deep emotions; journaled intensely during college, coming to terms with my chronic health issues and riding the roller coaster of a tumultuous relationship. Blogspot, Xanga, Myspace, Deviantart, Facebook, and now Blogspot again have all played host to my musings and declarations over the years. But that's just cataloging my life, sharing what's going on within my heart and mind. But I've always wanted to write and publish a book....about something.

It's been one of my lifelong dreams to write a children's story, but there was never anything cohesive that came to mind. An idea here, a scrap of a character there. I never had been hit with any inspiration until just last month. I now have sketches for a kids' series stacked in my bedroom. I have two main characters and have been figuring out who they are and how they relate to each other. I have the basic elements and need to flesh them out. There's a general direction but no clear story yet. That one is going to be like a painting that refuses to coalesce until I put a lot of effort and time into it.

Today however was a different story. Like a flash of lightning, I saw the first line: "Thomas Doorit was a naughty little boy who loved destroying good books." And then I had an ending right away too! I quickly scribbled out the story on some notebook paper, my thoughts going faster than my pen. It's already transcribed into Word so I don't lose it, and will lend itself to easier editing that way. The working title for now is "Thomas Doorit gets his comeuppance." It relates to books and classic literature, but I'm not going to give the ending away here. I think I actually have something this time. I even know what kind of illustration style I want and someone in mind to create them for me.

I'm really excited about this book, and I'll be sure to post more about it as I go.

Sketching 10

Investigating microbiology organisms more. They're always so colorful in textbooks too.

Jewelry ideas

I've been asked by many different people whether I make jewelry. I never really felt any inspiration because most of my ideas had already been done and much better than I could do. But I've sketched out lots of ideas. I drew some recently that I decided to try to actually make.

I get a lot of my inspiration at work

Cardboard is plentiful at my job, so that's the material I chose for my first go at it. It's easy to work with and if something doesn't work out, it's not a huge loss.

Attempt 2

Attempt 1

I wore this one at work the next day.

I figured out that I need to paint both sides--more mileage out of the same piece! Also, I'm going to coat these in resin so they're more durable. I wore the second necklace all day at work, and it held up really well.

It was really fun playing around, and I'm definitely going to make more! 

Grateful

Life can change so quickly for the better.
I was sitting here and it just hit me how blessed I am right now. Awed gratitude is the only response that I can give to God. Flowery praise and poignant prose really can't do it justice. I am blown away at God's goodness and grace. For some reason it's really hitting me tonight.

Within the last week or two, I have realized that God was preparing me 10 years ago to be the person I am today. Specific prayers I said as a 15 year old are now coming to fruition in my life. I could never have imagined what the answers to those prayers would look like, how God would bless me so greatly.

In 2002, I was just beginning the process of facing the tough stuff from my past. I was painfully shy, awkward and withdrawn. I felt removed from my peers, so different and alone. I struggled with so much fear and doubt and shame and self-degradation. I wondered if I would ever be able to truly be myself, the person I knew I was deep down. I didn't know yet that I had muscular dystrophy--I just thought I was klutzy. I couldn't foresee the tumultuous long-distance dating relationship I'd have during college. I didn't even have my driver's license yet! I'd barely begun to delve into being an artist. The thought of coherently and logically writing my thoughts and emotions like this would have been impossible. I was a teenager, full of zeal and little life experience.

Now it's 2012. I thought I'd have my life all figured out by the time I was 22, let alone 25. I've come so far though--I'm a completely different person from the Elisabeth that asked God for peace and freedom that fateful July night. I consider July 11th my spiritual birthday, because that's the night I reached the end of my rope and cried desperately out to God. And He answered. And my life was completely changed. Now, so much to be grateful for, even the so-called "little things." Even though I now wear leg braces and struggle some days with being so tired, I understand that God has used it to make me stronger. I can now talk about the "dark stuff," because I see how God has worked through it for good. I have an amazing boyfriend who loves Jesus and accepts me--all of me--and encourages me to seek after the Lord. I have friends who "get" me. I don't feel adrift anymore; I've found my place. And even though I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up, I know God is in charge. And seeing some of His plan unfold has been pretty cool.

Sketching 9

I drew this in church last Sunday. There was a lady sitting in front of me wearing a really cool crocheted shirt,  and I just had to make sure I remembered the part of the pattern I really liked. I never know where inspiration will strike, that's why I always carry a small sketchbook with me.  

Sketching 8

I think thoughts of summer were swimming in my head when I colored this in  a while back. And now it's hot here, so I'm wishing it were cooler again. Oh how fickle we Minnesotans can be when it comes to our weather!

Collage 3

More collage fun! 

Collage 2

Same collage, two different color choices. Sometimes I just like to see if the composition holds up if I take the colors away. Color can distract from poor layout. I actually like both of these a lot--the colored one for the bright popping hues, and the sepia one just has a completely different feel even though it's the same image.

Alternative healthcare

I had my first acupuncture experience today. The cynical, instant gratification side of me wants to label it woo woo quackery, and just go to the doctor and get a bunch of pills to fix things right now (what do you mean, "cumulative effect?" I have to do this more than once for it to do something? That's just...un-American!). But then I remind myself that I thought the exact same thing about chiropractic care before I started getting my back adjusted several years ago.

Looks freaky, but it doesn't hurt at all

And the thing with taking painkillers, it just masks the problem, it doesn't actually resolve the issue. I've come to realize, if my body hurts, there's a reason why it's hurting. Shocking, I know. In our modern society, we're just used to always taking a pill whenever something aches or feels out of the ordinary. Once the pain goes away, we think the problem's solved. In reality, we've just treated the symptom, but not taken care of the root cause.

As someone living with an undiagnosed form of muscular dystrophy, I know how little help regular doctors can be at times. I've ridden the medical merry-go-round of tests and more tests that only told me what I don't have. But that doesn't help me live my everyday life. It's my body, I want to take care of it, and sometimes that means stepping out of the box, moving beyond my preconceived notions and prejudices. I'm not going to go off the deep end and throw all caution to the wind, but I am willing to try something a little unorthodox if it's going to help me be healthier.

Over the last few years, I've incorporated some elements of what's labeled "alternative" healthcare into my life. I see a chiropractor once a month to help maintain good alignment in my back and neck (essential when you're on your feet all day working in retail). Also once a month, I get a nice hour long massage (very relaxing, and helps my muscles from tightening up too much). I took an adapted yoga class for about six months (also super relaxing, and helped me pay attention to maintaining good posture and balance). And I feel really good lately--I haven't been majorly sick in a long time.

But if I get a sinus infection or pneumonia, yes, I'm going to go to the clinic and see my doctor and get antibiotics to take care of it. I'm not going to stop seeking medical care--that's pretty ludicrous in my eyes. But trying these alternative things in addition to regular check-ups has helped me immensely. It just takes a little more patience and self-discipline than popping a few pills.

So now I'm trying out acupuncture. I've heard it can help with chronic pain (it's a low grade ache, but it still sucks) and tinnitus (can you say highly annoying?). The guy I saw is highly certified and was suggested by my excellent massage therapist. I get that it's not a magic bullet, and I'm not going to feel instantly fantastic. It was definitely relaxing though, and you pretty much don't feel the needles at all--they're very tiny. I got an herbal mixture to drink to help with digestion (I've lost some weight over the last six months, which is not good when you're already underweight and weak). So, we'll see how I feel in a few weeks. I'm guessing it's going to help in some way, based on past experiences with other things I was initially highly skeptical of. If it improves my quality of life, I don't really care whether it's Western or Eastern style medicine.

There are certain "alternative" things I will never be convinced to try, however. The Mooncup being one of those (go on, Google it; you know you want to). In this case, I'm very happy to stick with the standard operating procedure on that one.