Therapy Cat vs. Tornado Movie Shoot Hospital

Well, the past couple of weeks my nightmares have been getting a lot worse again, but at least I have lots of furry moral support.

Last night it was tornadoes. I was a passenger in my mom's car, driving down the highway towards the beach in the area where I grew up. My mom was driving us to a hospital where she was going for work and I had tagged along. As we drove, the cloudy sky darkened menacingly, the deep grey clouds heavy and wet. It began to pour. We were almost there- I could see across the flat, grassy fields to the hospital complex, its windows lit up against the blackened sky. My mom cursed at the rain. On the horizon I saw one of the cloudy masses dip down to connect with the ground, swirling chaotically.

We sped into the parking garage of the hospital, and then suddenly we were in a big, well-lit open lobby surrounded by glass windows. The place was pretty empty, which made sense to me, because I now knew we were there to help shoot a movie. We power-walked through a dim hallway into what looked like an office. A bunch of people with cameras and boom mics and who looked like actors were hanging around there. There was an old golden retriever and a French bulldog who was wearing a frilly pink collar, apparently also ready for a part in the movie.

As the crew was setting things up, I looked out of the window and watched the heavy rain streak down the glass against the dark night. I leaned over to look straight down, and saw a small tornado headed right for the building we were in, about to take out the structure below us. I started shouting and yelling for all the people to run for the door at the opposite end of the suddenly large room.

I grabbed my mom's hand and we got through the crowded doorway, running in the group away from that side of the floor. I was terrified. I was pretty sure we were going to die.

We ran past a long wall of windows that faced one of the other buildings in the complex. As I watched, still running, the building folded in on itself and crashed to the ground in a pile of rubble, sheetrock dust rising, showing its insides. It looked straight out of 9/11 footage. I was scared and upset. We reached, suddenly, a giant open area that looked like a multi-level shopping mall, packed with people. We skidded to a stop, trying to figure out which way to go- four hallways split off. But suddenly, a deathly fire glow came shooting out of three of them, and everyone in there started screaming. We turned into the fourth hallway, which looked like it was underground. It turned into the hallways in a Japanese subway station.

I began to have hope that we might escape. And then, quite suddenly, I wasn't running for my life anymore, but blinking up at the ceiling of my bedroom.

Over the past week, as the dreams have gotten especially bad, one of our cats has started sleeping right next to me, leaning on me as if to offer comfort, as if she knows I need a hug. Normally, she's quite an elusive character and sometimes you can go all day without seeing her. Also, if you get up to go to the bathroom, she'll jump up from the bed as if offended, tail-twitching, and stalk off to the other room for the rest of the night. But this past week, instead she stays by me. She'll wait until I come back and get under the covers again, and then snuggle up close as soon as I'm comfortable.

I know she's doing it on purpose. In college, one of my housemates was having a really hard time, and this cat was always in her room next to her when she was home. The cat would sleep on top of her at night. It helped a lot. Now I think she's offering me the same favor.

Living with my girlfriend helps me a lot, even though she's a hard sleeper, because just having someone next to me makes me feel less afraid when I wake up in the night. Having our cat right against me is like getting a hug just when I need it. As soon as I wake up, she'll turn to look at me with sleepy eyes, whether or not I've moved yet, as if to ask, "Are you okay?"

Thank God for kitties. <3

What's This?? A Social Life or Something?

I hung out with/talked to two non-family people this weekend. Human people! o.O Woah... This may seem to some like a low-key, boring weekend if you're used to partying, or are in college. The thing is, ever since I found out what was making me sick and started having to cope with treatment and my special needs (as opposed to simply shoving through pretending to be normal), I've become more and more of a recluse. In high school I was constantly sick to my stomach and automatic-behavioring my way through everything including hanging out with my friends. Then my first year of college I found out about Celiac's. Explaining my special diet to everyone around me sucked. When you tell people who haven't heard of it before and explain the key points to them, they inevitably say one of about five completely moronic things:

1. Oh my gosh, how terrible!! D: Your life is so hard!! (Like I need to hear that from some schmuck who doesn't know me or my life at all...)
2. Did you say you can't eat meat? (Having misheard "wheat" XD)
3. I can't believe you can actually cut all that out of your diet!! I could never do that!!! (Trust me, if gluten caused you physical pain, you wouldn't have a hard time letting it go.)
4. If you eat a cookie, that means you could die??? (XD It's not an allergy like those people in the news who are killed by traces of peanuts.)
5. Oh! I know what you mean!! I have a minor allergy to -insert random food item here- and can only eat five cups of it before my scalp itches minorly!! I usually just ignore it though. :D (Oh yeah- obviously you know what a life-changing diet is like. XD)

After a couple of years of this, I just plain got tired of explaining it. So I just stopped telling people and stuck to friends who already knew and had lived with me through the changes. It didn't help that by that time, I also knew I had Narcolepsy and was on Xyrem, which has its own life changes that go with it. For those years I had to go to bed at a consistent time every night (otherwise my stomach and alertness were completely messed up the next day and sometimes the day after as well). This meant no surprise staying up, which is really tough on someone college-aged when most serious talking and socializing happens at night. It also caused generalized anxiety in me at the higher dose I was on, which, believe me, doesn't help in social situations. Those combined with culture shock after returning to America from Japan kept me completely isolated for my last year of college.

Luckily, returning to my hometown after graduation meant I had old friends who required no explaining nearby. A lower dose of Xyrem also helped me gain somewhat of a social life back, plus getting on a much-needed antidepressant for the first time in my life. I still kept to myself at art classes and in public and avoided explaining either illness as much as I could. Slowly I developed a better strategy than launching into a detailed explanation at a moment's provocation or avoiding the subject completely- instead I compromised by explaining one symptom at a time on a need-to-know basis. For example, when invited to eat with someone I would make it clear I needed to be the one to choose the restaurant or food choice. When falling asleep in class I would explain to other students that I was tired and needed a nap. So in this way as people came to know me, they came to know my needs and quirks, and slowly understood I wasn't normal.

And so nowadays I find it much easier to meet new people and talk to them. It also helps to have my girlfriend's support- I feel more protected, less exposed, in social situations. This weekend we had one of her coworkers over for lunch (we cooked, so there wasn't a problem there) and chatted for about four hours. It was great. We all had pretty good funny stories to share, and I even got to nap for half an hour in the middle without having to kick her out first. :) We also had a long, in-depth conversation on the phone with a chaplain who might officiate our wedding this summer. That was exhausting for me, because he wanted to get to know us and make sure that we really are ready to be married, and so asked pretty in-depth questions. He was really nice, though, and didn't pry for details about my illnesses. I know two new people (with one over the phone rather than in person XD) aren't most people's idea of a social life, but it was a pretty big leap for us since we just moved here and haven't had much opportunity to make local friends. So that is exciting. Maybe by the summer we'll have three friends or something, lol. 8D

Art College Dorm Friends

More dreams. This time apparently more convincing. o.O

I was just moving in to this house to live with a group of other students from my art college, only they were all people I didn't know. We were exploring the small house, unpacking our things and joking around. Everyone seemed pretty nice. There were at least six of us, pretty much evenly divided between male and female though the numbers changed a little throughout the dream. A couple of people cooked dinner and made it gluten-free for me, which went fine. It was spaghetti and meatballs. We ate it while we watched this really dumb movie and people were making plans to go to another movie after dinner. It was getting late and I wasn't sure I should go, since I was exhausted and getting sleepy. I finished my dinner and looked around at everyone else, seated at two tables in our living room, which had no other furniture. I spotted one of the people who had cooked it. She looked a lot like one of my high school friends, even though she was supposedly a different person. She had seemed really nice so I thought I should get her attention (she was sitting at the other table) so maybe we could talk instead of going to the movie. As I watched, she started falling asleep sitting there, and I was interested to know if she had Narcolepsy too. I finally managed to signal her and so after dinner when everyone left, we ended up sitting in one of the bedrooms, talking. I kept trying to start my explanation of Narcolepsy because I really wanted to know if she had it, but she kept taking the conversation in some other direction every time I had an opportunity. Like, she asked me if I drank and I told her no, I can't because of my medication. But then she completely changed the subject to her stories and characters, which was really cool because we had that in common, so I gave up and figured I'd just end up explaining it all later. We were sitting on the floor, leaning over this sheet of notebook paper on which she had written the names of places in a world she had invented, and I was trying to pronounce them. I was happy because I had a new friend. And then I suddenly found myself in my bed, awake. I was really confused because I had been so positive I had actually been talking to this new friend. It took me a moment to figure out it was a dream.

Moving Halfway Across the Country Again

Alright, so I've totally been neglecting this blog lately. The main reason is that my life is once again rearranging itself. Definitely in a good way. My girlfriend got home fine, but we both started pining pretty badly the second she had to leave, which led to planning a trip for me to visit her, which then turned into me taking my dog and moving up north for the winter until she finishes getting certified and can move down here. Yes, me moving up north. For the winter. XD

I spent three years of college up in Minnesota, and being a native Texan it made a pretty big impression on me. At first it was pretty frightening, as winter came in November (instead of maybe pretending to show up in January) and the temperature dropped from "chilly" (65) to "freezing" (45), then bypassed "#$%@ing cold" (20) and kept right on dropping until it was hitting those pesky negative numbers that my poor Texan self had never even heard of before. Every one of those three winters had me wondering, around April when you'd think some hint of spring would have shown itself already and instead the ice and snow was barely even thinking of starting to melt, what the hell am I doing here??

It was hard. Having grown up with school canceled if the temperature hit freezing (like once every five years lol), walking to class buried in layer upon layer of clothing and still feeling like my face was going to fall off in the negative degree windchill was not fun. After awhile I did get used to some things: I learned to appreciate snow and layering, and I loved walking outside to see a world worthy of Christmas postcards every day. I started to refer to 50 degrees as "nice", especially in the spring, and there was something amazing in the total silence and stillness in a frozen landscape. That said, a winter in the Midwest still daunts me. I'll be somewhere slightly warmer (in theory) than where I was. I also have the accumulated knowledge of my three years behind me, if I turn out to have retained it, that is. But it's going to be worth it to be with my girlfriend.

It should work out well, because it means we can start our exchange of life skills that will make both of our lives better: she cooks, and I keep her life organized and clean. That sounds like an awesome deal to me, because I'll do anything to not have to cook (which she really enjoys, the crazy person), and she could really use some help with organization, the one thing I'm really good at besides drawing. She constantly loses things, the poor girl. Anyway, I'm pretty psyched. And it'll mean not having to drive anymore, thank god, because she'll do the driving when we need to go somewhere. That by itself is worth moving halfway across the country.

The Best Girl in the Entire World

I'm not sure where to start on this one, because there's so much history and depth and communication and plain old sappy love involved. So I think I'll settle for the simple explaination: I found a girl.

We've been best friends since we met five years ago at Carleton. Over the years we've been through a lot together and we've grown very attached to each other. We have never really had secrets from each other- she's always been the one person I could tell everything to. Not even every crazy little detail of the inner workings of my messed up brain have scared her off, which is impressive. We have always shared a very deep bond.

During our senior year at Carleton we realized we were completely in love with each other. The timing was unfortunate and a lot of stress and depression (on both sides) eventually caused it all to crash. Since then our feelings toward each other never went away. We got over ourselves and our close friendship continued after graduation, though we were both afraid of broaching the subject again. Despite living across the country from each other we actually kept up communication so well that our relationship got even stronger over the past year.

A month ago we decided we might as well be officially dating again since we were practically dating already anyway, haha. And since then we've both been so much happier about life. I can't even begin to describe how much I love her and I'll spare you the ridiculous amount of sappiness that could fill about eight entries on here, easily. I'll just say that life is good, my girlfriend is awesome, and leave it at that.

New Job Garage Art Frilly Reunion

Weird dreams this morning. o.O

In one dream I was working for this company that apparently helped people edit their papers. It was a kind of fancy looking office and we all had to wear suits. All the furniture was shiny polished hardwood. A client would come in and check in at this library desk, and then the receptionist would send them back to one of our editing cubicles.

It was apparently my first day on the job and my first ever client turned out to be an acquaintance from high school, only in the dream I thought I knew her from Japan. I was relieved to have someone I knew because that way I wouldn't have to be all formal and nervous. We talked for awhile and she gave me a research paper for grad school to edit. It wasn't that hard but I was starting to get sleepy sitting in my comfy armchair. I started to move around, finding excuses to stand up because I needed to wake up again. Unfortunately this strategy backfired and I got really tired and started having trouble pretending I was fine.

The next dream I had took place at my house except that it was still my senior year of college. Our garage was the Carleton ceramics studio, and if you went into the actual house it was nothing but twisting hallways with these framed bold graphic poster-sized drawings hanging neatly on both walls. Apparently I had just finished my senior comps project and was pulling it out to look at everything in the garage. The last person to be in there had left a slide projector and a lamp across the street in a park for some reason, and I was annoyed because it could have easily been stolen. I took both back into the garage but left the garage door open because even though it was foggy outside there would be better light in there that way. I had laid out all of my work on a table and was looking at it. It didn't look great, because the glaze had come out kind of weird and not how I'd planned, but I figured it would work anyway. I had lots of different sizes of dinosaurs and other animals, and the really big ones had lots of detail. The lighting in there was pretty bad and kept getting worse until it occured to me to turn on the light. At one point a giant ceramic owl fell from the rafters and half-smashed on the floor, and I was relieved that it had missed the table and hadn't broken any of my art. People kept coming in and looking at my stuff or just randomly wandering in and out, and one of them was a friend I had in elementary school who I haven't spoken to in many years, only in the dream I apparently still knew her pretty well because we were discussing art stuff. We got onto the subject of making jewelry and she showed me a couple of rediculously impressive little metal pendants she had found somewhere. One of them was shaped like a tiny domed building, and if you opened the little door and looked inside there were tiny metal people dancing (literally moving) under a tiny chandelier. The whole thing was made of gold and on a gold chain.

That dream melded into another one in which I was at a family reunion showing off the little metal building. My grandparents and cousins were all there and we were sitting in chairs around the edge of a small square bedroom with a big fancy bed in the middle. Everything from the curtains to the carpet to the fluffy comforter were pink and frilly. No one thought it was weird to be in there, lol. I mostly listened in on conversations for awhile but people kept talking about things I didn't really understand. Eventually I decided to go home. I was walking around and saying goodbye to everyone when I woke up.

Museum Volunteer Roommate Drama

I had at least three interesting dreams last night. In one I was volunteering at the local museum with a couple of my high school friends. We kept herding groups of people into elevators to take them from exhibit to exhibit. I remember it was weird because my friends kept goofing off and I was trying to get them to be more professional. And I was really getting tired but nobody else wanted to leave yet. The last exhibit we took people to was a room full of arcade machines with which people were participating in a tournament. You picked your machine based on what category of warrior you had gotten on this written test. I think the exhibit was on gladiators or something. And whoever won the tournament would get a prize.

In another dream I was on a roadtrip again. This time I parked my car at one of my far-flung college friends' houses, and she drove me and our other roommate to Carleton for the start of another term. I didn't realize until we got all the way there that I'd accidentally left my dog at her house. I was really freaking out because I couldn't remember if I left him inside my car or just in the house, where there would be food and water, etc. I wanted to just go back and get him even though it was hours away, but my roommates really didn't want to drive back there that night as it was getting late. I figured I should just wait and go get him the next day, but I couldn't shake the worry and I was beating myself up over forgetting about my dog.

Then I was at a dorm in my current college, only it looked exactly like my freshman dorm room at Carleton. I was supposed to move in with a girl who I really do kind of know at my current college, but her former roommate (this big guy who I presumably made up) still had a bunch of his stuff in there, so I didn't have anywhere to put anything. I had to wait for him to come back and get his stuff which he had said he would do earlier. But he also had two little tiny dachshund puppies, which I was playing with, so I couldn't get too mad. They weren't housetrained at all and kept going to the bathroom everywhere, and I was trying to explain to the girl that it really isn't that hard to housetrain puppies. Which is funny, because it actually is really hard and took me over a year to do with my dog, haha. But anyway, she kept saying it wasn't that important and I kept trying to explain that dogs need direction. Mostly the dream was sitting around talking about stuff with my new roommate and finding out more about her, and just waiting around until the guy came to take his stuff.

I definitely feel better today. Woohoo!

Dreamscape Roommate Roadtrip

Last night I apparently knew I was in a dream. I used to do that a lot before medication, but it's been awhile. I decided to take my two college roommates with me into a really cool world that I used to go to a lot. It's a beautiful, mostly wild hilly place, with a river running through it with steep banks, lots of forest and even some prairie. There are houses tucked away in places and a road that winds around through it, with smaller dirt roads that go into the woods. It has magnificent sunsets and you can see a ton of stars at night. I've been there many times, and even though there have been several different incarnations of it in specific dreams the map (which I always have with me) stays mostly the same. I've had a lot of fun exploring there in the past, and figured it was the kind of place my roommates would like (which they would, lol). So we started driving around, trying to find the little dirt roads that led to the more scenic views where we could sit and look or hike around. It was a beautiful, sunny, cool and dry day.

Of course Narcolepsy had other ideas for the dream, and it wasn't long before it started trying to take back control. So the map ended up wrong, and we got lost. I got annoyed because I knew my brain was trying to turn it creepy on us. We saw a couple of houses tucked back in the woods and decided to go ask for directions. As we got out of the car, a couple of older men approached us and started talking to us. Even though they were being a little bit creepy we weren't worried- I knew I was still in control of the dream, and besides that, one of my roommates knows karate so I figured we were safe. I went into the trees to look around while my roommates got directions, but suddenly it got dark fast. It turned into night unnaturally quickly and I knew the dream was trying even harder to revolt. Even though I was now alone in the woods with one of the creepy men (who turned out to have followed me), I still had enough control to prevent it from getting scary. I walked back to the car and we drove off.

One of my roommates was driving, so as she drove us back toward the river I concentrated really hard on changing it back into daytime. It was difficult but suddenly the sun began to rise, and we pulled over to get out and watch it.

If the dream went on after that, I don't remember. I think it probably turned into something light and mixed up and silly. It was cool that I could control it for awhile though.

Firmly In The Closet

The other day one of the guys in my class, while he didn't mean to, really irked me. He saw one of my anthro characters on my notes, and asked me if I know this other student who apparently also draws furries. I told him no, I'd never met this person. And he said, "You should meet him- I bet y'all are soulmates!" Though I wanted to get annoyed at him, I simply said "Oh really?" and then stopped the conversation. After all, while it is a kind of dumb comment, he wasn't trying to be mean. He was just doing what everyone else in this state seems to do- assume that I'm straight.

I'm very gay. I'm gayer than the gayest rainbow, and if you don't believe me you can ask my ex-girlfriend. I'm also firmly in the closet. My close friends know, as do my parents, but all of my acquaintances and other relatives are in the dark on this one, and for good reason. For one thing I still have some issues. And for another, there are certain people who would not be open-minded if I told them and would most likely start trying to "change my mind". So I keep it to myself, which is one of many things that get in the way of any possible romantic relationship. But that's a story for another day.

I was raised in- how do I put this nicely?- one of the most backwards states in America. The whole time I was growing up I was told that I would find a boy, get married and have kids. I never bought the kids scenario, mainly because even as a child I wasn't into that idea. But I bought into the husband, even though I didn't think boys were that interesting. Every year at Christmas we would visit my dad's family, and the grownups would ask me and my girl cousins what we thought of boys. For awhile we all said "Yuck!" And then my cousins started to respond with interesting, or cute, or at least alright. And I stayed on yuck.

I always thought that was weird. I kept waiting to reach that age where I would think boys were attractive, but it never came. Even in my teens I just wasn't interested in the guys in my class. I feel like this should have been a red flag for me, but it wasn't. Everyone had always assumed I was straight, so I didn't even think to question it, and just made excuses.

That whole time I was assuming I was straight, I had massive crushes on other girls. It started in preschool, with this other girl in my class. I thought she was really pretty and I loved her hair. I followed her around because (I thought at the time) I really wanted to be friends with her. I was confused when she was mean to me and I still wanted to be her friend anyway, and I couldn't figure out why my feelings toward her (who I didn't even really know) were so strong.

It kept on all through elementary school. There was always a girl I thought was pretty and wanted to be friends with, and later I would wonder why. In the meantime I pretended to have crushes on boys because all the other girls were doing it- and at the time I remember assuming that they were all faking it too.

In middle school I would have crushes on teachers, which just really embarrassed me, especially when they were female. I would put those thoughts out of my mind and feel really wrong for thinking about them in any kind of a sexual way. I would beat myself up over it because I seriously thought I was just messed up. But still, even though I acknowledged those feelings enough to be ashamed, it didn't occur to me to question that I was straight. And by high school, when I finally first heard about homosexuality, I was so sick that I never thought to ask myself the important questions- I was too busy just surviving.

It wasn't until college that the realization hit me. I met a new friend through a PE class, and she seemed really nice. She invited me to her birthday party. It was really fun, because it was a tea party and all the people there were very friendly. I found out she had a girlfriend, and eventually it came out in conversation that almost everyone there was gay or bi. As I was leaving I thought about how funny it was that I was the only straight person there when I'd never had any gay friends before. And then I asked myself the question, and got an answer that I wasn't expecting. It was like my brain just froze, like it was jammed. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. And then I knew that I wasn't straight, and never had been. And I felt numb and weak with pure fear.

It was several months before I could really think about it again. The whole time I felt like I was in a dream. The fear followed me everywhere. I couldn't understand why I was having such a strong negative reaction to something that was just naturally me, but I couldn't shake it. Part of what bothered me was probably the fact that I was mistaken for so long. I pride myself on how introspective I am most of the time, and that I missed something so obvious for so long was really disturbing to me. But I also am a product of the environment I was brought up in. Though I had never thought homosexuality was wrong, and supported the fact that it's not a choice, it's different when it's you and not someone anonymous. All the things I heard growing up got dredged up again, and I couldn't help feeling like a freak of nature, like something was wrong with me, like I had somehow let my family down by not being "normal". It was hard. And I hid it from my friends for months even though I knew they wouldn't care. I avoided the new friend who had sparked the realization, which I regret because it was mean and I never explained myself later. I crawled into my shell and it took years to pry myself out.

It's been three and a half years now. I'm finally feeling like it's okay for me to be gay, and I've told all of my close friends. My parents know too, and have been very supportive as I knew they would be. I'm almost to the point where I think it would be alright for some other family members to know, chosen wisely of course. But I'm not ready to declare myself to new acquaintances, even as they openly assume I'm straight, and I don't know if I ever will be. It still smarts a little. And I don't want to risk any confrontations because it would be so easy to get hurt. The closet is so much safer.

The Best Dog Ever

I took my dog out in the yard a moment ago, to a familiar occurance that happens to really get on my nerves. Another dog and owner were passing by, and my dog started to growl. I sternly told him to stop with a word and a hand signal, in an attempt to keep him relaxed until the other dog left. And as often happens, the other owner started telling my dog it was okay for him to growl (which fortunately, he doesn't understand) and acting like I was the meanest owner ever for actually bothering to give my dog discipline. I know the other owners in the neighborhood mean well, and that I would do better to explain myself to them instead of ignoring them or brushing them off, but I can't stand it when people start talking to me like I'm the worst person ever toward my dog.

Part of why this really gets to me is that I have the best dog in the entire world, and am very conscious of this and sincerely want the best life possible for him. The two of us have gone through a huge amount together, and he makes my life worthwhile in every way. And a big part of our unshakable relationship comes from how hard we've worked together to enrich his life and refine his now considerable manners.

When I was in Tokyo for an academic year of college, my host parents told me they were thinking of getting a dog and that if I wanted, I could take him home with me when I left if I got attached. This was the most amazing offer to me because I've always loved dogs, but never really got to live with one. My dad is definitely a cat person, and my mom is allergic to anything with fur or feathers, so aside from a couple of backyard dog experiments that mostly turned out badly, I never had a real pet of my own. I went to check out a pet store one day, not really intending to get anyone yet, and suddenly there was this furry ball of two-month-old dachshund shivering in my arms. I was instantly sold.

Not that I had any idea of what to do with a puppy, never having had any training in that direction. Several days later, he was already wreaking havoc all over my host family's condo. The rest of my trip I spent belatedly figuring out important things, like how to housetrain a puppy, how to teach him not to constantly bite you, how to mostly keep him from chewing things up (that took much trial and even more error), how to teach him to walk on a leash, etc. By the end I had to pay a lot of money to replace the ill-fated carpet in my bedroom, and had many arguments with my host mom on what to feed him and how to do everything. Luckily my host parents not only remembered it was technically their idea in the first place, but fell in love with him just as much as I had in the pet store.

At that point his manners were dubious. He's a very headstrong guy, for one thing, and needs persuasion that for a long time I didn't know how to give him. So when I brought him back to the States, he immediately took over the house that summer. My mom completely spoiled him, and kept giving him piles of chicken for no reason when he was begging. He got way out of control and enjoyed humping everything in sight. He also figured out that barking is fun, which he proceeded to do any time I shut him in my room to keep him from destroying things. I was worried and quite annoyed with him by the end of that summer. I was also feeling pretty crappy, which didn't help the situation.

When I went back to college I brought my dog to live in the apartment with me, three friends and two cats. It quickly turned out that one of my housemates was very allergic to him, which caused room switching and forced him to be confined in a baby-gated room. It was back to total havoc again right away. He started barking and barking when I was out of the room, peeing in random places on the floor and chewing up my roommate's belongings. I got him fixed, which helped a little, but I still hadn't really figured him out so I wasn't sure what else to do. It strained relations with everyone else in the house and was just more stress added to my already stressful situation. That said, there were some good times, though- we would go on long walks in the woods, which we both enjoyed. I really miss those walks. We don't live anywhere near woods anymore.

After graduation, we moved back home to a different house and another difficult arrangement. My dog had to stay on the first of three floors because of my mom's allergies and his lack of manners. And that's when I decided we were going to start working on his behavior problems. I started doing research and discovered the Dog Whisperer and It's Me or the Dog, two really good dog psychology shows. I learned a huge amount from both and started to combine the two techniques. It really allowed me to begin to understand what was going on in his little dachshund head, and I figured out how to finally communicate with him. We worked so hard for the last year, and with exercise, discipline, affection, hand signals and tasty treats, he's now the perfect gentleman. I up the challenge every day to keep him thinking, and every day he amazes me more and more with how hard he works and how well he listens. We went from crazed uncontrolled barking to the occasional single bark, and I can tell him to stop barking and he will immediately. We went from jumping and humping greetings to head low, tail wag meetings. We went from him dragging me down the street to perfect heeling. When I stop, he sits right down. It's astounding how completely awesome he is.

There is still something else to work on now. He's very afraid of other dogs because I didn't socialize him when he was younger, what with living in Tokyo and not knowing anyone. He was starting to get over it from walking around our neighborhood and meeting dogs, until one attacked him. Ever since then, we both get scared when we come across other dogs on the walk. Right now the best I can do is damage control- I discourage him from growling and barking at other dogs because I know that his anxiety could lead into aggression if I allow it to escalate. I distract him when he gets nervous with games and commands. What he really needs, I think, is long exposure to a big group of dogs that aren't going to attack him. I'm not sure how to accomplish this, as I really think something like a dog park would be a disaster because most people don't have enough control over their dogs to make it safe.

In the meantime, I would like all the people who spoil their dogs and think I should do the same to lay off the "but antagonizing other dogs is normal!" and "disciplining your dog makes you mean!!" lectures, because frankly I know I'm doing what's best for my dog at this point, and all our hard work has paid off. I love my dog more than anything in the world, and his life is rich with challenges, fun games and boundaries that make it a structured and relaxed existence. He's happier these days and I am, too. He's so polite now that he's gained another floor of the house, and now we can watch our favorite dog training shows together.

Sleep vs. Eat

I'm still very sinus-infectionafied, hence the lack of blogging yesterday. The good news is that I somehow managed to turn in some homework and am now pretty much on track again, if I can get this week's work done on time. Which I think I can, thankfully. If I survived my first college experience, I can deal with this easily.

For one thing, my medication situation is vastly improved nowadays. When I was tackling my senior year at Carleton, I was faced with a very interesting dilemma. It's one of those ironic twists that's so unfortunate that it was actually really funny to me, even at the time. My dilemma was one of Sleep or Eat.

At the time I was on Xyrem (only Xyrem) for my narcolepsy, and it was very helpful for getting me sleep. It also took away my appetite completely and gave me anxiety problems. This was really bad for me because I was already borderline underweight from having Celiac disease for years, and my diet is so strict that I have to cook most of my own food- and I'm a pretty boring cook to start with. I'm also exhausted most of the time, and cooking is not something that I enjoy. So the result of all this was that I had to force-feed myself, because I had no appetite, and so I didn't eat near enough food every day because of the Xyrem side effects.

Because of all this, sleep and eat became pretty much mutually exclusive. I could take enough Xyrem to get some sleep, but that would leave me in a state of barely eating anything. Or I could take less Xyrem and have more nightmares and go back to living in a constant haze, but actually want food and be able to eat. I really did think it was pretty hilarious at the time. I mean, you can't make this shit up.

For most of a year I chose sleep, simply for survival reasons. I was determined to graduate and that was, I knew, the only way to do it. The result was that I lost weight dangerously- I was 95 pounds at my lowest weight, and for my body type I should be 110 at least. It was really scary, actually, because I could see bones where I really shouldn't. You could see my ribs without me sucking in my breath or anything, and my hip bone had way less padding than it was supposed to. As soon as I graduated I went back home and saw my neurologist, who immediately lowered my Xyrem while we figured things out. And then I had to opposite problem- I had my appetite back, but was so exhausted all the time that I couldn't really appreciate it. I was eating better but still not gaining weight. My neurologist wanted to put me on Provigil, because then I wouldn't need as much Xyrem (therefore lessening all the side effects) and could still be awake during the day. This sounded like the best plan ever, until I found out that Provigil isn't gluten-free.

Go figure. And it's not even the for sure kind of gluten-containing. It's the stupid, let's fill it with whatever is cheapest at the time kind- so a given pill is gluten-free or not, but there's no way to actually tell. My neurologist wanted me to just try it anyway, but my days of taking chances with gluten have long been over, and I convinced him that no, steadily worsening depression and exhaustion and pain issues were not "worth a try".

Then we started trying antidepressants, and once we found the right one (after some months of bad experimenting, including an allergic reaction- that was fun) life got much better, and I was finally allowed to both sleep and eat. As a bonus, I started gaining weight back, and still am. I'm now proudly in the triple digits once again at 103 pounds. Woohoo! And I've filled out nicely, if I do say so myself. My appetite is huge again, and this makes the need to constantly cook infinitely easier to deal with. I have a feeling I have a few more pounds in my future.

At least, with all that I've had to deal with, I'll never take this stuff for granted.

Jet-setting

Last night I took a roadtrip. I had a big map of North America that showed all the highways and everything but really really small, so you had to look very carefully to use it and it was easy to get a little confused. I had some people with me who kept changing- I think they started out college friends and turned into various relatives later on. I needed to go driving through Mexico to pick someone up, and then I was going to drive around the US for awhile, visiting California, Minnesota and Georgia. Well, I actually know people who live in those states, so it kind of makes sense. Anyway, I kept getting lost a lot, but didn't really care because I was enjoying myself. We saw all sorts of interesting things, including a train that someone had turned into their house and decorated with mosaic tile in pretty blues and blue-greens. I think I need to draw that one if I can manage to. I know there were other interesting, pretty images but I don't remember them now.

I have a feeling this dream came out of missing travel. It's difficult for me to go on trips because of food, scheduled napping and Xyrem fixing my amount of sleep every night. But for a long time that didn't stop me.

When it was time to pick a college I chose one as far from my home city as possible. I wanted an adventure. I wanted a different climate and to live someplace beautiful for once in my life. So I ended up going to Carleton in Northfield, Minnesota. Seriously it's like the exact opposite of where I grew up- small town, cold climate, beautiful place. It wasn't my first adventure. Before that I had spent two weeks in London and two weeks in Rome, several trips to Colorado and Florida as a kid, a week in San Diego and a lot of places in my home state of Texas. All of that was with my parents and occasionally grandparents. My first trip without relatives was three weeks on a program in Cambridge, England with a high school friend. Looking back, I'm not sure how I managed to go all these places, especially the Cambridge trip- I was really sick. A lot of this was between onset of symptoms and diagnoses.

Carleton was very hard on me. It's a really challenging college for one thing, and when you add to all that coursework my two illnesses and all the crap they gave me at the time I really don't know how I managed to accomplish it. In my freshman year I was diagnosed with Celiac disease, and it took me most of my first two years to get the diet down and eventually figure out there was something much worse wrong with me. I finally came clean about my nightmares and hallucinations at the end of my sophomore year. You can imagine how much that freaked out my parents. So of course I ended up getting shunted around through various doctors all summer, ending up with my sleep study and finding out I have Narcolepsy. I went on Xyrem, which started to help immediately. And then, in September, I left for a ten month trip to Tokyo. Yep, I told you I was crazy.

It was during that trip that I had a lot of really important revelations. Sometimes you need to just go live on the other side of the globe for awhile to sort through everything. And I realized I needed to slow the heck down. I was trying to do too much and it was very hard on my body. I was so used to pretending to not be sick that I was stressing myself out. My last year at Carleton was basically me trying to get my life back in control. I dropped a major, much to my parents' initial anger and frustration (yes, I was trying to double major! At a really hard college, on top of everything else- what??). I took less classes and just focused on graduating. And it took so much effort to get up every day. And I ended up having to come clean about the state of my health to my professors in order to get the naps in and miss class occasionally, and I had hardly any social life because I didn't have the energy, but I still managed to graduate.

Believe it or not that was a year ago last month. Since then I've mostly stayed home. I'm still catching up on the energy. Only after a year do I feel like I really have the energy to do everything in my now much lighter schedule. I don't regret anything- I'm lucky to have travelled so much. Especially to have lived in Tokyo. I miss it so much. But I don't know when, if ever, I'll have the energy to return there. Just flying there made me sick for a week- both ways. My friends are still travelling places and inviting me along, but these days I've decided I've had my adventure for now. What's more important for me right now is to take care of myself and figure out the best possible way to do so. I'm getting there, with the addition of Remeron, more careful GF dieting and naps. Who knows, maybe when I do have the best way to care for myself and my dog figured out I can go off somewhere more interesting again. In the meantime, I'll just dream about it.