Intro vs. Extro

Studies have been shown and have proved that extroverted people get more in life. They climb the ladder of success, are more popular, and tend to have good relationships built around them. And for that reason I decided I would do my best to become extroverted.
 I was homeschooled for my childhood. My only friends were a sparse couple of church friends who I saw in sunday school and sometimes for playdates, books, and animals. I went to a homeschooler school for a year or two when I was around 13. Homescholer school is like regular school except you only go once a week and its normally in a churches basement. Parents who are particularly good at subjects will teach other parents kids. Almost like a private school, but smaller, and no teaching degrees. My first year I sat quietly. Never opened up. Never talked to people. My brother though would race around finding as many friends and people to talk and hang out with as possible. There were times when he would take pitty on me and bring me to his table with his friends, which was embarrassing because he is 3 years younger than I am. Because of my reclusive nature no one remembered me when I came back a year later. Everyone who I knew, introduced themselves to me. Didn't remember I even went there the year before... and there were somewhere around 30 or so kids there... so it was a pretty embarrassing thing to happen. So it was then, that I decided to become extroverted.
I found the most flamboyant, loud and proud, individual of our homeschool group. And watched. I saw how she moved, how she responded to things, I practically studied the poor girl. I then, very slowly, started to try to adopt that type of attitude into my own life. I succeeded.
After I became a forced extrovert I made a few friends. I limited myself to a point because too many friends was literally too stressful to me. But to those few friends I was a happy-go-lucky and outgoing person.
Still to this day, if I let the wall fall and try to confide in someone, they don't get it. Some people just dont believe me. I tell them how much of an introvert I am. How much I want to be around 'my people' and myself. I can spend a full day around my mother, or my fiance. And that is about it. Anyone else I would want to die spending that much time around. Not that I don't like them. But that maintaining a certain facade is exhausting. Have you ever tried to be the exact opposite of yourself? It's insanely draining! But... its for the better good of the world and myself if I maintain this fakeness.... right?
Maybe not much longer! I have decided to pursue a career that will give me the chance to work entirely from home! If that happens I will have so much more energy and feel so much more like myself. I can live a life true to my own personality. One that seeks out quiet, peace, and happiness. Have you every noticed so much slower the clock moves when it is quiet? When the world is quiet, you can allow your mind to be quiet. If your mind is quiet your heart starts to quiet. Your muscle begin to relax. You begin to realize how beautiful the trees are. Or how nice the rain sounds on the roof. Or how soft snow makes the world around. Quiet time is important. Quiet time is recharging. So, more quiet is better... right?

Heartache

Another post that isn't 'happy'. I know that anyone who stumbles across this may think I am the most miserable person in the world, I promise I'm not. But this is my reprieve. The way to get some of the weight off my chest. Either way, onto the painful topic.
It's been almost 4 months since I have said goodbye to a soul that has touched my life in the most wonderful of ways. I miss and love him so much that some days, it feels like it is crushing me. I delicately avoid thoughts of him and in times where I let memories dance across my mind I break down into sobs. My first child, a beautiful all black german shepherd, was hit by a car and we were forced to put him down. It was my fault. I let him out and forgot that I did so. My fiance and I were watching the democratic debate and it came off of the commercial and I forgot him. We always let him out without a leash or anything, and normally he would lay in the yard and happily chew sticks. But not January 18th. January 18th my precious boy wandered into the road and was struck by a vehicle that was obviously traveling way to fast in a snow storm. We found him and rushed him to the vet. I sat in the back seat with his head cradled in my lap, petting his face and begging him to stay with me. Crying out that I was so sorry for allowing him to be hurt so badly. We got him to the vet and they gave us the bad news. He was bleeding out internally and was paralyzed in 3 legs. We could spend upwards of 10k to try to save his life, or we could end it. My beautiful fiance couldn't stay in the room while they did it, and I couldn't stand to let him go without his mom. So I stayed and pet his beautiful face cooing to him until his eyes lost their light.
I don't know if you can get ptsd just from losing a baby that way, but I think about those last moments all the time. They spring up to my mind and torture me. I miss him so much and the sorrow tears at my heart. It rips into me as I sob and makes me feel like I am ripping into pieces. He was only two years old, but he changed my entire world. He taught me to accept things as they were, how to patient in the face of frustration, how to enjoy those 'annoying' habits of those you love. He was such a huge piece of my life, and I just wish there was a way to get him back.
There isn't though. So instead I will look at pictures of him and remember what it felt like to hug him. What it felt like to lay my head on his butt and read a book, What it was like to go on bike rides with him and to treasure his adorable puppy-like nature. He never grew up, though I guess he never had the chance to.

Hoofbeats don’t always mean a horse

Many people already know the premise behind the reasoning behind calling yourself a Zebra. In the medical community it is often said, “If you hear hoof beats, think horses not zebras”. The idea behind that is that doctors, nurses, and other medical professionals shouldn’t believe that they have some rare case on their hand before first establishing that what they have isn’t the case of something common. For most people that works but for others, it doesn’t. I’m obviously apart of that group. I have created this blog in order to vent to someone other than my poor fiance and family. I have an AV Malformation in my uterus, binge eating disorder, and Ehlers Danlos syndrome. There are around 100 written cases about av malformations in the uterus, only 1-5% of the population has binge eating disorder, and I still have to explain to medical professionals what Ehlers Danlos is. I feel like whenever I walk into a doctors office and explain what is wrong with me they are doing everything in their power not to roll their eyes at me. I have a myriad of other physical maladies but binge eating and EDS (abbreviation for Ehlers Danlos) are my biggest pitfalls.

I was only recently diagnosed with EDS. While giving the diagnosis the doctor managed to get through to me that he didn’t think I should continue to work out. This was before he gave the cortisone shots to me in my hips. But I hate change, and me changing my exercise habits is a big deal to me. I found exercise around 4 years ago. Since I found it I have become obsessed with daily short runs (3 miles), weight lifting, and deep yoga stretches. Since starting this variety of exercises I have experienced a drastic decline in my joint stability. I got hip surgery at the height of my obsession around 2.5 years ago. Since then my knees have started swelling after minor runs. Along with the swelling they’ve started to dislocate, along with my shoulders, hips and wrists. The pain in a constant dull throb in the back of my brain. I thought it was just aging, it may sound strange but thats what everyone always brushed it off as. Or they said it was just me pulling muscles or putting more strain on myself, that everything was normal. Finally a friend listened, and directed me to EDS. I looked it up and after much investigation decided I believed that I had it. After wasting time for about 6 months I finally went to the rheumatologist who confirmed what I already knew. I had hypermobile EDS. He pressed that he thought I should cease certain movements and that I should see an orthopedic surgeon for specifically my shoulders. They dislocate, on will, and rather painlessly. But have lost a great deal of mobility.

Now I am left with the dilemma, do I stop doing something that I love or push through the pain? Pushing through can cause me to irritate the EDS more. Dislocations will become more frequent as I continue to tear my connective tissues and make my joints weaker. The pain will become unbearable and I may speed up the progress of osteoporosis, which often comes early for an EDS sufferer. I have thought of picking up new hobbies; sketching, biking, even this blog. But all have fallen short. I worry that I don’t have the discipline now-a-days to form a new habit. I do plan on picking up bike riding, and perhaps some light, low impact weight training exercises with a focus on finding a form that doesn’t cause my joints to hyper extend or dislocate. And I hope to keep this blog updated on that progress, or lack there of.

I ended up spending my entire first blogpost talking about EDS, and its not even the thing I am suffering with most tonight, but the binge eating. We’ll have to save it for another day. Perhaps it will motivate me to share tomorrow.

Goodnight.