And so we go on...

I always marvel at the huge build-up to Christmas, and how afterwards, it's almost just another day.

I was exhausted today, but I made it out to get some lunch (California Crisp Cafe = amazingness), and I played a couple hours worth of Risk with Philip - which I lost. I managed to do some homework and finish reading "Mere Christianity" (finally!) and I'm setting a couple of goals for tomorrow, before we leave for San Jose on Friday.

Now, I know it's customary NOT to tell people what your New Year Resolutions are, but I want help with mine. This year, I choose not to stress myself out by expecting things of myself.

There are certain things I expect of myself, of course, but I find myself more stress when I feel horrible that I didn't get anything done yesterday, and now I don't know if I'll get anything done today, and will I ever get better? And so on. If I take it day by day - I feel like reading today, so I'll see how far I get - or I think I can manage to do some more of that homework.

Because when I expect myself to get massive amounts of things done like a normal person, or even manage to get things done consistently, daily - it's then that I begin to flounder.

And tomorrow, I get my hair cut and my highlights redone. Friday I'm off to San Jose, and hopefully I'll come back with some more pictures for my pitiful facebook account.

Finally, a treat - guess what I got for Christmas? Ha, don't worry. My mother saw (and bought) this amazing black bear shaped footstool; he's furry and awesome and has storage in his behind, and came with the name Big Ben. I've never been quite so shocked as I was when I opened that gift.

Adieu.

Today...

When I woke up today, I thought I was doing pretty well. I read some; Dickens and "Eats, Shoots, & Leaves." I did some Bible study. I was tired and didn't take a bath and get dressed until this afternoon, but I felt like I had gotten something done.

And, for the most part, this is how all of my days go. I learn to rejoice in the small accomplishments; last Saturday I was able to spontaneously go out to dinner with a few friends after Zach's Eagle Scout Court of Honor. That was huge for me - deciding that I was well enough to go out and making it all the way through without any headaches or dizzy spells.

Today, it suddenly felt so silly. I'm 18! I should be physically able to wake up when I want to and go to sleep when I want to. I should be able to drive and not fear for being unable to pay enough attention and kill someone - nay, I should be able to take passengers now and go further distances. I should be able to go Christmas shopping, and I should have been able to get my mother something before now, because she shouldn't have to be with me every time I go out in case I suddenly get bad. I should be able to play my clarinet and read for long periods of time and go to classes and school and not be slowly slogging through independent study courses. I should be able to hold the hairdryer up long enough to actually dry my hair. I should be able to make plans for an entire day - not say that I "might" do "something" on "maybe this day."

I'm very lucky I'm not depressed; in fact, this disease is so linked with depression that for years it wasn't recognized as a neurological issue, but a psychological one. To be so tired that you are unable to do anything - to feel like you cannot even "live" properly; I should be depressed.

In reality, today is only the second time I've even really cried over it - seemingly out of nowhere. I know better than to think about missing prom or graduation or all that goes with senior year and college; that's setting myself up. But, talking via webcam to a couple of dear friends who are away at college? I talked to them one night, and woke up the next morning in tears, and I couldn't explain it. Maybe suddenly how much I was missing out became real to me.

And today; I can't go Christmas shopping with my sister. I can't even guarantee that I'll be feeling okay tonight, when Dad has agreed to take me.

My mother isn't doing as well recently; it's a busy time of year, and she's been moving fast and relentlessly for months now. I'm trying to be understanding, but there's only so much I can do to help; she won't let me exert myself too much. (Yesterday, Lara and Melinda came to visit, and Mum was tired, so I had to dust my room myself. Cleaning my room; tidying, dusting, hoovering - used to take me no more than 40 minutes on a Saturday morning. How is it that now, it makes me feel like I've just run laps?)

I once told myself I wasn't going to complain about being sick in this blog; but today I needed to rant, and I'm still pretty sure not everyone gets how much of my "life" has been taken away from me. That's alright; unless you have experience, how can I expect you to understand?

I also hate that it feels like this stupid disease is all I talk about, because it influences so much of my day. At least I'm feeling better now. And, tomorrow, I'll go about my routine again, and feel good over the small accomplishments.

Some thoughts...

The devil has to use dirty tricks when it comes to Christians. He knows that if we are forgiven and desperate to do God's work - well, there's just no chance of his (Satan's) evil agenda coming to fruition.

But, he uses us against ourselves. The human mind is a brilliant thing - and capable of remembering. So, the devil plants doubt - and we forget that we don't have to go back - and we can see all of our sin. We wonder, how could God love us, use us?

Then, when temptation comes, how quickly we sink.

As a Christian, I have been given a lot of power. I know that I need to work hard to use it properly to serve God. But, I cannot use it if I am afraid of falling again, and working hard not to serve God, but to somehow earn forgiveness.

I was told to think about the number of decisions I make in a day - and it's staggering! I see then that I do have the power to truly serve God. But - I am afraid of living outside myself. There is a voice in my head - an angry one - that wants me to do everything as perfectly as I can, and cannot believe that I am forgiven. That angry voice is a manifestation of this doubt the devil planted.

A long time ago, I was told to ask forgiveness every night for all my sins during the day. While well-intentioned advice, how disheartening - I have too many sins!

So, how can I be sure? How can I look at my past sin (for it is all in the past), and know that it is wiped away from my permanent record? I know how this dirty trick works - but will I still fall for it?

A few things...

Today, I realized that I am clueless when it comes to eyeliner - so I just don't wear it.

What other things can I not do?

1. Math.
2. Look at fish and not gag.
3. See a mistake in grammar or spelling and ignore it.
4. Whistle.
5. Blow a bubble (with gum).
6. Sing (in tune).
7. Make out the lyrics to "Thnks fr th mmrs."
8. Bear to eat anything smothered in butter (I'm shuddering just thinking about it).
9. Roll my tongue (though I can bend my fingers backwards and spread out my toes, so that may make up for it).
10. Stop talking.

And that's just a short list, not including my limitations due to CFS or FMS. (That list would include decibel levels for music, hours spent awake, and certain brightnesses - as well as a great many daily activities).

The Bad Beagle

Sunday was good; I got to go to church.

Sunday lunch was a different matter.

We kids came home a while before our parents arrived, and Philip and I were glad to find that there were exactly two bagels left - perfect for bagel pizza. So, we set the oven to heat (because it may be new, but it takes forever) and we premade our pizzas.

And we left them on the tray on the island, not really thinking about it much. I noticed that the kitchen was out of tissues, and took the box to the recyclables. My brother scoured the kitchen for another box before realizing he'd have to trek upstairs. We passed each other in the hallway.

It was in those few seconds, that as I rounded the corner, I found Max, paws up on the counter, eagerly reaching for a slice of bagel-smothered-with-cheese-and-pepperoni (my brother's creation). I yelled, I even ran over and pulled him away from the counter.

But not before he swallowed the slice whole.

Of course, I sent him outside and refused to let him in, no matter what puppy faces he made, and when he finally was allowed in, he began ignoring me.

At dinner, he was still ignoring me. I actually asked him aloud, "Are you not speaking to me?"

And he got up and stalked off.

Our big bad beagle can hold a grudge.

The Apology

I intended to keep this up a whole lot better than I have been. I truly did.

And I haven't been. So, for that, I am sorry.

In other news, I went shopping on Wednesday! It was my first time shopping since before my birthday, and thus I finally got to use my Hollister Gift Card, which was muy exciting. I didn't even use my wheelchair going around the mall (we went to the one in Topanga), for the whole hour and half we were there! Of course, it's Saturday now and I'm still hurting for it, but it was worth the price.

Canst thou believe it's seriously December already? I still need to do more Christmas shopping (because we all know that one trip to the mall will not suffice, unless you're really stingy on your gift-giving), and our house isn't decorated (we don't really do much anyway) and the weather isn't wintry.

That being said, I realize that there's a whole lot more to December than just Christmas (or Channukah, or Kwanzaa, or Christmakkuh even, depending on how you celebrate).

Anyway, I'm determined to enjoy saying goodbye to 2007... and all the lack of memories it holds.