An Ode to the Changing of the Clocks

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It’s cold now. Cold means big sweaters and heavy blankets, which mean safety. I bought new slippers, in honor of the changing of the clocks. They mean, I know these look like they belong to an 80-year-old woman, but they’re comfy as heck. Cold means tea, and tea means a burnt tongue, which doesn’t have any enriching value besides reminding me of winters past.

It’s earlier now. Early means I wake before I need to, and fall asleep before I’m supposed to. At least it used to be that way. It isn’t anymore, because sleep and I are on a break. But it does mean that as I lay in bed staring ahead, I see the raindrops (on roses and whiskers on kittens) caught on my window, and the smell of it seeps through the walls. Do the raindrops look like tear drops as they cling to my face?

It’s darker now. Darkness means comfort and calm, and more hours of it should mean less time spent in a frenzy. Because frenzy leads to anxiety and anxiety leads to pain, so really I’m sitting here praying to the darkness: take away my pain.

I latch on to the hope that comes with change. It was fall. Now it’s winter. This was change. May the change bring with it all the good I wish for during my waking hours of staring at raindrops.

Yours truly,

Ella

It’s cozier now, and cozier leads to winter playlists. I put together a playlist for this season (yay!), called ‘Changing Clocks’, that you can find on Spotify (click the link or type ‘Changing Clocks’ into the search bar, it’s the top result, and then you can follow it to see when I add new songs).

Song Quote:

If the rain keeps falling and you can’t see the tears in my eyes, they say the night is daunting but we all need somewhere to hide. –It Could Be Better, Lewis Watson

P.s. Comment below if you caught the Friends reference in here!

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Sharing Is Caring

That’s what I have been taught my whole life. It was the mantra repeated throughout my childhood, and is the nostalgic phrase thrown out in my present. I wholly believe in it.

I’ve had a sharing kind of day. My dad lent me his sweater, I brought some food from home for my friend, another friend shared some of hers with me, I shared my scarf and hat with others who were cold throughout the day, I received yarn as a gift from a friend for whom I knit a hat, and I got a ride home from someone because it was raining. It was all really great, and it got me thinking.

So, sharing is caring, right? We’ve established that. If so, why can’t I share my pain? Why am I the only one of my friends who’s suffering every minute of every day? Why am I the only one who has to worry about her health and her treatments all the time? Why am I the only one who isn’t healthy enough to participate in things?

It’s not that I want my friends to feel like this. I wouldn’t wish Fibromyalgia on anyone, ever. It’s just that I’m frustrated with feeling so alone in it. I can talk about it with my friends, especially a couple of them who are really there for me with this stuff. My class knows what I have (after a really messed up year of it staying a rumor despite the fact that I told everyone what it was). I talk to my parents; they know exactly what I’m going through. All of that is great, and not to be underrated.

But no one feels what I feel. No one knows what it’s like to have this pain, to feel so sick all the time. Anyone who doesn’t feel what I feel the way I feel it would have no way of ever understanding what it’s really like. And that makes me all alone. People care about me, but I can’t share this. I’m the one who wakes up and goes to sleep this way. I’m the one who sits in class with pain travelling through her body. I’m the one who stands talking with people, but is usually actually fighting a migraine, knee pain, exhaustion and more to do so. I’m the one who’s hurting. 

There’s really no solution to all of this. Even this blog isn’t the solution. It helps a lot, don’t get me wrong: seeing positive comments and a show of appreciation for what I write makes my day a lot of times. But it doesn’t take away the pain. I try to keep up with normal life, with the things people my age are doing (by the way, the driving license picture ended up coming out great!). But at the same time, I’m also a really old person: I can predict rain. C’mon, no one my age is supposed to be able to do that. My knees swelled up last week, while my friends were all on vacation in locations around the world, because the weather was changing. And yet I still can’t figure out when to bring my umbrella.

I’m tired of hurting, and of feeling alone. Just tired of it.

Yours truly,

Ella

Song Quote:

It’s taken me a while to tell you, exactly how I feel inside. The words, they may seem simple right now, but they took me a while to find. –Be Alright, Lucy Rose

Not This Way

RIP sleep

This isn’t how it was supposed to go. I wasn’t supposed to feel like I was seconds away from collapsing all day. I’m not supposed to feel this upset after what otherwise would have been a great day.

 

Today was my first day of junior year, and like anyone would be, I was excited, nervous, and not at all eager for it to start. But at the same time, I was worried. I chose a beautiful outfit to wear today, got my hair cut a few days ago (so now when I wear it down it’s layered and naturally wavy), and got myself just a bit pumped about a new school year. But I was worried.

 

Ten minutes in, I felt sick to my stomach and needed to run outside. Too much noise, too many people, too many limbs around me. Outside it was extremely muggy, so after realizing I was probably going to get more oxygen inside, I went back in. Playing super hero music in my head and thinking “I’m going in” helped a little bit with that tough decision.

 

See, you all pretty much know me by now, or know the way my quirky head works. You know that I am generally an optimistic person, and that in almost every post, regardless of it’s theme, I have some witty or weird sentences that lift the spirits a bit. This comes naturally, and it wouldn’t be me writing if whatever piece didn’t have those. Right now though, I don’t want them to be here, because it’s makes me sound happy or strong or brave or whatever, and I’m not! Well. I am. But I’m not. You know?

 

No.

 

I had a really hard time. I’m not going to get into everything that happened today, but I’ll share a few main events that show that the staff at my school are incredible, and that I feel really sick:

 

-My teacher had the “tech staff” turn down the volume on the microphone after it worsened my migraine.

 

-The school guidance counselor brought me a cup of water and offered to take me home when she saw how I looked (dead and sweaty).

 

-The principal picked up my backpack, carried it for me, and let me stay in his office (under the air conditioner) until I felt a little better.

 

-The school superintendent is setting up a cupboard in my main classroom so I don’t have to walk down two flights of stairs to get to the lockers.

 

So as you can see, my school has been absolutely amazing to me so far, and it’s only been a day. I’m so incredibly thankful for them, especially the guidance counselor who has been on my side since the first day three years ago, when I transferred into this school. She’s known me since before all of the medical shifts and scares.

 

At the same time, this year is extremely intense in terms of school work and schedules, and my energy is so limited that whatever leeway I’m given will only make a dent. I have a long scary year ahead of me, and I want to just go ahead and tackle it, but I don’t know if I can. I’m so sick and so tired after one frickin’ day. How am I supposed to last more than that?

 

It doesn’t help that I haven’t seen my dad in forever. Part of it as because my vacation was longer than the rest of my family’s, so I missed a week, then he went away on business. It has been two and a half weeks since I saw him, and he comes back this Friday. Usually our relationship is great, even when he’s away, but this time it’s been complicated. He’s away so often, and he misses so much of my life. I know it’s not fair to be angry at him, because it’s not like he’s having that great of a time and he’s just abandoning us. He’s working all day long, and I know that he’s probably lonely. He just… he’s away, you know? My life keeps going, and two weeks in teenager land is a major chunk of time.

 

He misses doctor’s appointments, school meetings, tests, and dinner I cooked for everyone last night. Ten minutes on the phone everyday is just not enough. He also has a knee-jerk reaction to any complaints, which is to get angry/frustrated and try to make it clear to us that the world is a mean place and we should just deal. The thing is, I’m not like some other family members: I rarely complain. I rant, but in a funny, sarcastic way. If I’m complaining, it means it’s serious and I need support. Him telling me off is not what I need. It’s not like I’m trying to have a bad day on purpose.

 

For instance, when my mom and I went to another doctor last week (a new one), he (the doctor) was a total jerk and upset me a lot. I talked with my dad on the phone right after, and I was basically sobbing into the phone. He very quickly just got frustrated and told me I should just deal and not over-react. When I talked to him the next day he told me he talked to my mom, and “it turns out” I “wasn’t exaggerating, the doctor really was a jerk”. No kidding. I told him I don’t normally complain or make a big deal out of little stuff, so if I tell him something, he should just take it as it is. It’s the truth. It doesn’t help that he always has to cut the conversation short because a meeting is starting.

 

I try to be understanding, to tell myself that he’s working really hard, that he didn’t choose to have to travel so much (except he did, basically), and that he would much rather be home with us all the time. But at the end of the day, when I’m a kid and he’s my dad, he just isn’t home. I hate it, and I’m crying, because I miss him and I don’t want to have to write this down. If I don’t though, I’ll just feel worse.

 

Starting a new school year is never supposed to be all that amazing, but it definitely wasn’t meant to be like this. I just want to feel better already. Screw all that telling myself it could be worse, and that I should love and enjoy life. Life right now sucks. I want to be better. Healthy.

 

I can’t sit here anymore, my back hurts.

On that absolutely beautiful and uplifting note,

Yours truly,

Ella

 

Song Quote:

All the dishes and the words would pile up inside, she loved the world but it didn’t love her back. -Expecting Too Much, Orla Gartland