Dear Dear Diary
Thursday, August 31, 2006
 
OT/OOC

Someone asked me about what I mean by flipping the switch from normal to horrifically fucked up/multiple chemical sensitive. It's because I can pin the point it happened to the hour. January 17, 1995, about noon. I worked the noon-8 p.m. shift at the newspaper, laying out the Living section.

I was house painting since I could hold a brush. My parents have a camp in the wilds of the Adirondacks, and we go every summer. I have painted every building, every walkway, every dock, and a couple of boats of the place at least once, some things as many as 3 times. I started painting canvases regularly when I was 20. I *loved* oil painting. The summer of my 25th year, I think I painted a large canvas every weekend with acrylics- out on my porch in the moonlight. My walls are covered with completed canvases. But that's not the only toxic thing I've done. I worked in the nickel plating room at Smith Corona for a summer- no ventilator, gloves, etc- just open vats of acid. At 25, I worked for a newspaper - I was in and out of the press room, the paste up area, and had a desk way too close to the the laserprinter. I volunteered for an animal shelter cleaning cages with the industrial cleaner, Quat. I started dating a smoker and drinking too much booze. I did not take care of myself and thought myself capable of handling anything. Perfume did not bother me, though I still I did not wear it. I adored roses, and would often buy one for myself. I went to a ren fair that summer and chewed on a rose the whole time with no ill effects. I had two kittens and scooped their box every morning.

When they redecorated the office in vinyl wall paper and put in new formadelhyde soaked (for fire-proofing) carpets, that was the final straw. Something clicked off. I could no longer stay in the building longer than 15 minutes without experiencing symptoms.

I could not do *anything* that I used to do. I didn’t know what I could even eat without fearing setting off a reaction. My reactions vary widely - from joint pain to gastrointestinal cleansing (with or without serious crampy pain) to simple inability to breath (which starts with coughing, goes to hyperventilating, and then I pass out from lack of oxygen- a state I have fortunately only reached once). My physicians were of no help and did not believe this was real. I was treated as a nutjob. Therefore I was fired from the job for inability to think or breathe in the building. I did not get a lawyer. I should have. I am completely fine in a controlled environment. But I can’t live in a cage, so I dance along the edge of controlled and uncontrolled. The depression and paranoia are just side-effects in trying to cope.

So if I vent here about being depressed, it's mostly just venting here. This whole mess is very frustrating. It's been more than 10 years, and I am NOT better than I was. I have found many things that set me off, and yet I still have unexplained things happening. It's very hard to say if a symptoms is caused by a disease or by a reaction and the line is very thin.
 
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This rather schizophrenic blog was started as a fictional blog, written by a character of a story. I've since taken it over for writing personal stuff I don't mind sharing with anyone who cares. I am also writing thoughts about writing and stories that move me.


Other places I go:
Georg's Research
Help local kitties
I have relatives. Be afraid
Blessed is the One True Tami
Tata the Bodacious
Obligatory Yarn Harlot
It is impossible not to love Sandi Wiseheart once you've met her
The Tsarina
Holiday Yarns
Habetrot
I like the name Twiggi
Who to blame for my sock addiction
Maybe the cleverest blog title
Romancing the Yarn
Why I read Romancing the Yarn
Get an ab work out with laughter
My Kitty Obsession
Kittehs
You meet the nicest people playing video games
I'm such a fanboi
Rabbitch
One of my stalker targets
The other stalkee
I just love Josh (the cat)
Josh the Cat and friends
Pet politics
Pet Care
If I were a sheep, I'd be Delores
I live here now
Not Your Mama's Crafters
Make a Lily Pad


Anything not marked might be just me, Georg, posting as myself.

It's just this blog, okay? Some of it is story. Some of it is animals. Some of it is knitting. It's a blog.

For story #1, I do recommend starting from the beginning of this blog if you haven't read this before. Please start at the beginning.

I did mean it to be for http://www.nanowrimo.org - but I never got quite got it done under the wire.

CAST:
Jeannie is the author/main character.
Frank is her husband. Poor man.
Tony is musician/singer.
Angie is a teenager, who was Jeannie's best friend. Now currently dead.
Honestly, there is no connection between Jeannie and me and Frank and my husband.

Story #2
Frank and Ether. This will be much weirder than Frank and Jeannie. I like the name Frank. No one expects a Frank to lie.

Story #3
A desert story. Anna is the main character. Currently there is only her little brother and an old servant, and a mysterious redhead.

Story #4
The necro story. A young necromancer heads off to the Hated Ones to find her trousseau.

Story X
Reserving this for one-offs, poems, etc.


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Marriage is love.

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