Some anniversaries I may have forgotten to mention

Well, that was that: October. I can't believe yet another month has come and gone, when I am still stuck somewhere back around April, hoping that the rain will finally stop and spring will bloom. In reality, we're preparing for the cold all over again, and hoping that the heavy snow they are predicting for this season is inaccurate - As usual, I am way, way behind.

I've been so busy here at Grandmother's house that I haven't written about my sick-a-versary, or my blog-a-versary at all, but trust that I have forgotten neither. This is my 16th year of being sicker than I'd like (of course, anybody who's sick at all is, most likely, sicker than they'd like), and the anniversary of that first debilitating, out of nowhere and never gone back to nowhere illness still strikes me hard. Because one day I was fine, and the next day I was not. And I haven't been since. It's hard to remember, even when things are going ok-ish for me health-wise (as they are now), just how different my life became, and how suddenly.

But, like I said, this year's anniversary finds me with no new major downturns in my health, so that is really all I can ask for at this point. I'm grateful for the level of activity I've achieved, which, at certain points in the past I would've never thought I'd attain. Even if they're still significantly below where I'd like to be (say about 70% below where I'd like to be), any progress is good progress, and I think that this past year I've been most surprised by just how badly you can feel - how much pain or exhaustion or stress your body can be feeling - and yet you still get through the days: It seems a lesson I am loathe to continue learning...especially since I am constantly hoping that this - whatever this may be: pain, hours without sleep, post-surgical infections - is as bad as it can possibly get. Since that is apparently never true (it can always be/get worse), I'm glad that I keep meeting the challenges in ways I never would've thought or expected that I could.

But I also have to think of the positive things that have happened in my life over the course of the past 16 years, and know, that if I had changed this one thing - my illnesses and all of their various effects - I would have changed everything else. And so, holding the little people in my life as close to my heart as I do, and knowing how much stronger some of my relationships have grown because I've had the time to devote to them, and thinking of all the ways I wouldn't like to be any different than I am right now, I have to be glad that we can't change our past, since the temptation might have proven too much for me, and where would I be then?

I also missed acknowledging another pretty important anniversary: The end of September marked my fifth anniversary here at Never that Easy. I think, for me, whenever somebody says "It's been X number of years since Y", I always think that it has simultaneously been a much longer time than that and a much shorter time. It certainly feels as if I have been writing here for much longer, because of the people I've met, and because of how much it has come to mean to me. But I can also recall, very clearly, trying to come up with a damn name for the blasted thing that A) didn't sound ridiculous, B) wasn't already taken and C) I could use anonymously, as a pen name. (And even then, I screwed up on B and managed to hijack someone else's blogger name right off the bat: It was not an auspicious beginning, I can tell you that.)

For five years, I've written about most of the things in my life that are important to me - I won't say "all", because there have definitely been a few times I've been either too embarrassed or exhausted to share, and other times when I just kept things to myself - and it's been an overwhelmingly positive experience for me. I haven't made a dime doing it, but never figured on doing so - and, that said, I've still lucked out a couple of times when it came to free goods: way back when, Snapfish gave me some free credits just because I'd said something nice about them on my blog. I've never become part of the "A-list" (or B or C...) blogosphere, but I never meant to do that either: I just hoped that what I had to say would find somebody that it made sense to; somebody who understood enough, or thought it was funny enough, or wanted to know more enough and would stick around to hear me say it.

And in that area, I've more than lucked out - I managed to get people to read almost all of the posts - sometimes it's just been one or two, other times more like a dozen or two, and, once or twice, about 1000. And I've wound up with a wonderful core of people who care, who pay attention to where I am and what is going on in my world, and who let me know that they are out there. That's you, if you're wondering.

I know I wouldn't keep doing this, if you all didn't keep showing up and saying so. I'd keep writing - I always have, I always will - but I wouldn't keep putting little (or gigantic) pieces of myself out into the world like this, hoping. Hoping that somebody else feels the same way about something that I do about something, or feels the opposite way, but still cares enough to argue about it. Hoping that I'm not the only one who gets bothered by some damn annoying thing. Hoping that there are happy things happening even when I can't see them. Hoping that there's more to me than just one part, and that people can appreciate them all.

So thank you for showing up, and for making these past five years a lot less lonely. I'm not planning on going anywhere, for the time being. As a matter of fact, tomorrow will find me participating in my fourth NaBloPoMo, and I am seriously considering doing that meme that's been floating around about the 30 days of truth. It seems like another step in making connections - knowing that I'm being honest with all of you is something I strive for here, even when it hurts - and I'm looking forward to the challenge of it.

Plus? It gives my tired brain a little nudge in the direction of writing something, which is often the hardest hurdle for my exhausted self to climb over.

4 years in, and Blogger's spell check still doesn't recognize 'blogger' as a word...

This week marks my fourth anniversary here at Never That Easy, and it has me doing a bit of reflecting.

A lot has happened in these four years, in my life & in the world, and I have been immensely fortunate to have this space to come and talk about it all. I may not be the most popular blogger, but I do have commenters who care and who take the time to read my often long and rambling thoughts and then let me know what they think about what I've said. You guys have been amazing: so much more than I expected when I first signed up for this blogger account and racked my brain trying to come up with an anonymous name for my space.

Over the course of the 4 years here, I've tried some things that didn't work for me, I've gone weeks without posting - and posted every day for months. I've learned the basics of html, figured out how to make a generic template my own, and considered adding ads (and realized that they wouldn't make me a profit). I've written things I felt guilty about posting, and not written things I felt guilty about not posting. On one memorable occasion, I was made to feel like much less than I actually am, and on occasions too numerous to count, I am made to feel like I am so much more than I am.

Because I am a blogger, I am a part of a diverse, often inspiring, and sometimes overwhelming community - it's a community with flaws, just like any other, but the support I've found here, the welcoming and understanding, far outweigh any flaws I've encountered. It's something that is hard to explain to people who don't read blogs - it's sometimes hard to explain to myself.

All I know is I have found connections here, and that those connections came at a critical time for me.



Living with chronic illnesses can be a very selfish thing, by necessity - and not even always in a negative way. Self care is vitally important, especially for those of us living with chronic challenges. But if you spend all your time monitoring how you are feeling and what is impacting that and which pills are helping or which doctor you have to call again for the 1000th time, it's so easy to spiral into a place where the energy required to make it through your daily life means you wind up focusing, almost exclusively on your life. (At least for me, it does.) And that's not the way I want to live.


Blogging has also made me much more aware of how much other people are going through: it's not as if I didn't know that life is hard for everyone before I started reading blogs, it's that I didn't always feel it. It's a lot harder to stay self-centered when you're reading about other people's lives, when you feel compelled to comment on particularly poignant posts, when you've just spent 10 minutes crying over someone else's loss.

I've always connected to writing - books have been my salvation more often than I can count - but connecting through the fabulous writing of bloggers means connecting
to the lives of real people. And having them connect with you.

I don't know where I'd be if I hadn't found people who understood - or who at least made the effort to understand. I didn't know there were so many people out there who had similar issues, who could get it, or people who have no idea what it's like to live my life, but who would listen to what I was saying and actually care. It still seems impossible to me that you all show up here whenever your Google Reader kindly informs you that I have said something else.

A lot of what I say is nonsense - memes and quizzes, random flotsam and jetsam from the wreckage of my brain - but a lot of it is also meaningful.

It's stuff that's hard to think, let alone write.

It's stuff that's personal and private and I that I never figured on sharing with anyone (let alone a bunch of people I've never met.)

It's stuff I'll always want to remember, and stuff I'd rather forget.

I don't have any promises for you about what comes next - I know there are some things I'd like to try this year, some stuff I'd like to feature in this space - but all I really know for sure is that I'll be back. Even when it seems like I just am not ever going to get around to writing half the posts that are littering up my head, I know I have to say something. So, thanks for being here when I do!