Wednesday, 29 January 2014

Someone you know lives with a mental illness

Someone you know lives with a mental illness

I think coming out of the closet with a mental illness was probably harder than coming out of the closet as a lesbian. Sure I had to deal with people thinking“it's only a phase, you were married to a man before”, but at least it was somewhat talked about. When you come out of the mental illness closet, no one wants to talk about it. I suffer from clinical depression. Many people with Multiple Sclerosis have this. The particular cause of it is unknown as there are many factors of the disease it's self that can cause depression. What I can say is that I never was depressed before I got MS.
I suffer from something called Pseudobulbar affect (PBA), emotional lability, labile affect or emotional incontinence. Sounds like something in the bladder doesn't it? What it looks like for me when I get a flare up is uncontrollable crying over silly little things like getting the wrong sandwich and crying like I just suffered the death of a close relative. Sometimes it takes the form of laughter which is far worse. Ever laughed so hard you couldn't breathe? Usually you snap out of it long enough to gasp for air, but in my case I can't snap out of it. My body is laughing and inside I am screaming for air panicking that perhaps I may just die laughing. I've learned a trick to stop the laughter, I have to shock my system in my case a slap in the face usually does it. Not just a little tap either, I'm talking finger prints left on the side of my face. Despite the pain, the humiliation of having to do this in public is far worse.
Due to MS, I have lesions on the part of my brain that controls emotions and motor control. These lesions are scars marking permanent damage to area's of my brain. Because of Neuroplasticity, my brain is able to compensate for the damaged area's that control motor skills, However; the brain is unable to compensate for the emotional area's of the brain and has left me with damage. This damage presents it's self as severe depression. In order to help with the depression my doctors have prescribed Celexa which is an SSRI (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor ). This does not cure depression, nor does it completely alleviate all the symptoms of depression, but it does make it possible to function during the day somewhat. Antidepressants are one of the top drug prescribed in North America today.
Most people think that simply by swallowing a pill depression can be cured, and the terrible truth is there really is no cure for severe depression. Situational depression occurs when someone is depressed about the situation that they are in and generally clears up when the situation stabilizes or dissipates. In the case of severe depression, it is a chemical imbalance and in cases where brain damage occurs (such as MS) it is permanent.
So what does this mean for me specifically? It means that for the duration of my life, I will not only have to battle with MS, but also with depression. Depression will taint every aspect of my life, and just like MS steals little pieces of me physically, depression will steal little bits of my joy and happiness. It means that I will have to endure people telling me to “cheer up”, or “snap out of it”, or the dreaded “if you change your attitude you can get over this”. The truth of the matter is, if I could do that I wouldn't be clinically depressed in the first place. If I were able to clear this dark cloud that hangs over my life, don't you think I would have done that already? It is simple human ignorance (meaning not educated) that causes people to say such things. People want to help. They see you suffering and want to alleviate it, but these words do more harm than good.

Tuesday, 28 January 2014

Valentines day

Valentines day



I dread this time of year. In fact I'd like to stay in bed for the duration of it please. I am talking about valentines day. Yup there is nothing worse than a single person on valentines day, it makes you feel like some freak who can't find a partner. It's almost as bad as getting chosen last for a gym team. I don't think I've ever had a good valentines day, not even when I was involved in a relationship. In fact, I always remember it is a bad time of year. I'm a hopeless romantic. When I'm in a relationship I want the woman I am with to feel special, so I tend to do little things all year round. I don't need a day to show that person how much I care about them. But being single on valentines day is worse. People either avoid talking to you about it, or ask you what special thing you are doing and I reply nothing and get the look of pity with awkward shuffling of feet. This is the second year in a row that I am single on valentines day. I think this year, I am going to take myself on a date. It is going to consist of coffee and a movie on my couch. I look forward to the day when I have a partner to spoil, but I'm not going to rush into a relationship just for the sake of valentines day.

Tuesday, 21 January 2014

Pushing your own limits

Pushing your own limits


When I started Karate 4 and a half years ago I never dreamed of what I would achieve. It's not the belts that I am proud of the most (although I am proud to wear it) it is the tiny accomplishments of my body. When I started Karate, I was ashamed of my body and how it moved. I felt like a marshmallow with hands and feet. I entered the kids class, because kids are less likely to judge, or at least I didn't have to look at the pity on their faces when i attempted to throw a technique or practised my kata.
Slowly after time I became more confident and joined the adult class. I still felt awkward and compared myself to the other students. I felt discouraged because i believed that my kata would never be as good as the 18 year old students beside me. It wasn't until I started taking my training more seriously that I realized that my kata and techniques would never look like anyone's and I wouldn't want them to. My Karate is just that, mine. I will never be a 20 year old man who is over six feet tall and they would not be a 5'3 woman who has born children and deals daily with MS. Why was I comparing myself with them? They weren't me and never would be.
True practitioners of Karate-Do realize that the only person you should be comparing yourself to is the person you were yesterday. My Sensei and instructors are there to teach me the techniques and help me better them, but I first have to own them myself. My shiko dachi (sumo stance) may not be as low as some others, my Seiyunchin kata (attack, conquer and suppress) may not be as crisp as the person next to me, and I may hit myself with my Bo (6 foot staff) more (okay honestly way more) than the person to my left or to my right but these mistakes are mine. As long as I can go confidently into my grading realizing that I have pushed my own limits and continue to do so, I can hold head up high and be proud of the accomplishments I have made. The guy to my left didn't have to sweat and cry for two years just to stand on one foot. (trust me, for me that is a HUGE accomplishment.) The guy to my right didn't have to compensate for a little something called breasts (and yes they get in the way a lot more than I would like) and my Sensei didn't have to roll out of bed and swallow and hand full of pills just to be able to function this morning or take a three hour nap after training because of exhaustion. All of us have our different abilities and our own struggles. It just means that we have to take responsibility for ourselves and stop relying on someone else to push us.
You are never to young, old, fat, skinny, muscular, flexible or inflexible to become a true Karate-Ka (a person who practises Karate-Do) you just have to realize that you are you and no one else and want to improve yourself.



Saturday, 18 January 2014

Gaydar

Gaydar



For those of you who have been following me, you probably have heard this before. You may stop reading now, or if you feel like a good laugh, continue on. For those of you who are new, and who haven't been following me, I will explain what Gaydar is. In the gay community, most people have a sixth sense on who is gay and who isn't. It's called.... get ready.... Gaydar. Like radar for gay people. I know we are a creative people aren't we. I have a problem, mine is broken. Now I am sure I am not the only lesbian out there who's gaydar is busted, but it is a serious problem especially because I am single. There are a lot of haters out there and quiet frequently some heterosexual women get their noses out of joint if a gay woman hits on them. Come on, take it as a compliment and have a little sympathy would you?
Today I went out grocery shopping with a male friend who is heterosexual. While paying for our groceries, I spy a cute girl behind the counter. Now the first thing you need to know about me and my cruising ability with women is I am ridiculously bad at it. My ex girlfriends have told me that I turn from being a creative well spoken out going individual into Elmer Fudd. “Shhhhh quiet, we're hunting lesbians.” Seriously I am that bad. So instead of my usual, “cute girl, don't look, avoid eye contact and for the love of all things holy don't speak and make an ass out of yourself.” I decided to speak. I was actually kind of proud of myself that I had made this gigantic step. Seriously, it's huge. At the end of the conversation we exited the store. (Like hell I was going to ask or give a phone number, I ain't that brave. Baby steps right)
My friend and I start discussing cute grocery store clerk. Then he drops the S bomb on me. “She's straight.” he says and I know he is serious because he knows that I am a complete tool. I went through my mental check list. Short hair (check), Tattoo's (check), piercings (check) sporty look (check) when you have no gaydar, stereotypes are all you can go by. Nope she's straight Pam.
Besides not really wanting to seek out a girlfriend right now, the odds I can find one is fairly slim to none.

Sunday, 12 January 2014

Happy New Year

Happy New Year



It's been weeks since I've blogged and I extend my apologies to the select few that have been following my blog. I know that Christmas isn't an excuse for failing to blog, but it's the one I'm picking and I'm sticking with it.

Lots of interesting things have happened in the last couple of months since I've up dated. Speaking of dated I should explain my latest experience dating. I should warn you it is not for the fainthearted. It had been months since my last girlfriend and I had broken up and my best buddy suggested it might do me good to put myself out on the dating scene again. Even if it didn't work, it would be an exercise in dating to prepare myself for the day I can actual date I woman that is compatible. I decided that I would take his advice. After all he had been on some terrible dates and I figured that if worse came to worse we could exchange stories. A saying that was a favourite of my mother, and probably yours comes to mind. If your friends jumped off a cliff would you jump off as well? I should have listened to my mother.
Let me explain something. The dating pool in the urban area that I am in is relatively the size of a coy pond. It is hard to find someone whom friends of yours haven't dated. It is a small population of lesbians. I joined up a dating website to look for the elusive fish of my dreams. The website promised plenty of them so I threw my rod in again. I had successfully dated a girl from the site before. Although things didn't work out for us, I thought perhaps I might have luck again. When a girl whom I hadn't met or known about from the area I am in messaged me, I bravely continued the conversation. She seemed pretty enough, and although our conversations via the internet were not what one would consider intellectual, the were not completely devoid of intellect. We decided to meet a local Tim Hortons (how Canadian). I decided I would bring a friend along just in case. It's not like I don't know how to defend myself, or that I was worried about being assaulted in a local Timmies, but I needed support and a potential out in case things went terribly wrong. Yup I'm a coward.
So I showered and got dressed. I felt guilty that I hadn't bothered to shave my legs, but it wasn't like anyone was going to see them anyhow. (I'm not that type of girl). I picked up my friend and we agreed on ways to get me out of the situation if it turned bad. I parked my SUV and noticed that my date was sitting at a table waiting for me. I thought it was a good sign. We entered the shop and wandered over to the table. My adrenaline began pumping. I'm a very outgoing person, and I like to think that I am well spoken, but when it comes to girls I tend to be interested in, I turn stupid. I mean, I am sure there are some women that find elmer fudd attractive, but it tends to make me self conscious. My “date” turn her head as I spoke, she failed to stand and greet me. I thought it odd, but chalked it up to nerves, after all if I turn into elmer fudd, perhaps she might suffer the same problem.
Perhaps it was the adrenaline that was coursing through my veins that allowed me to take in the situation so quickly, or perhaps it was as obvious as a smack in the face. She greeted me staring only at my friend, which was fine. It allowed me to get a side profile of her face. The first thing I notice was that at Noon this woman’s pupils failed to dilate. I mean, I had to really look to see if they were there at all. She was stoned. The second thing I noticed was her teeth. I'm a big fan. There was a gap in the front ones where she had lost one of her incisors. Now things happen, I'm not going to judge, but the rest of her teeth were a strange orange colour. It looked like she hadn't brushed them in weeks.
My friend and I stood awkwardly as my “date”sat. I suggested we move to a table that would accommodate all of us. I wanted to run out the door, but I have my dignity and I firmly believe that other people should have theirs. As she stood up to move, I noticed what she was wearing, finally tearing my gaze off her mouth. She was wearing pyjama pants. In fact I highly doubted that she had gotten dressed at all this afternoon. Rather she rolled out of bed and went on a date. As we sat I asked my friend if she was thirsty. Ironically she wasn't. Neither was I. I offered a drink to my “date” and fished out some money so she could get one. As she sauntered to the counter, I looked at my friend. The words I spoke roughly translated to, “Please provide me an excuse to leave. I don't believe that this woman and I are right for each other and I would like to expedite our leaving as quickly as possible.” What I said was, “get me the fuck out of here!” I didn't have to say a word, my friend had already been planning our escape. I stifled the urge to get up and run out of Timmies, more because I didn't know if my friend could keep up, and I still wanted to have some shred of dignity. I suddenly didn't feel guilty about failing to shave my legs.
When she came back, we watched as she checked her blood sugar and licked the blood off her fingertip. He blood sugar was 36. Considering it should be between 4 and 7 I feared for this woman's safety. I also cursed my need to care about every human being out there. I offered to drive her to the hospital, and winced when she took a sip of the sprite she had purchased. No it wasn't diet. She administered a dose of insulin and told me she was fine. She had been in a diabetic comma before and wasn't concerned. Her sugar was often extremely high. I took her word for it and made up some lie regarding my friend and a doctors appointment. I typically don't lie, but I didn't want her to cause a scene in Tim Hortons.
I think there were con trails off the back of my SUV as we drove out of the parking lot. I was torn between laughing and crying. I changed my mind about the size of the dating pond in my area. I truly believe that the coy pond had become radioactive. Wow, was the only word my friend and I could speak for a half an hour. I regretted my decision to have a witness to my complete failure at dating.
So the moral of this story is.... Sometimes your friends don't give you good advice.