The Mixed Up Year

 While we have a month and a half until 2021 hits us, I've been reflecting a lot on this crazy year. You know, many of us tend to say that about any given year, but I don't think we'll be doing that anymore. This takes the cake! Warning: This is raw.

Some say "If we'd only known" back in January what this year would be like. Some of us had some idea. My husband was watching China closely when the first signs of COVID hit. By three weeks in, he was warning that we needed to stock up because that virus was going to make its way to us and looked bad. How right he was, and I'm glad we did stock up. As the naysayers started in on their conspiracies and people started fighting for toilet paper, we already had masks, essentials, and more. When my main EDS/Dysautonomia doctor sent his recommendation to lock down, I'd already been for two weeks. There were ample amounts of fear and frustration, especially as some of my friends and family were calling it a hoax or "just the flu" or saying it would do the world a favor by taking out the sickly (um... I'm one of those...) and insisting it would all vanish in November. Well, we know how that has gone, and my already small circle has shrunken over it - some because they died of COVID and others for their continued hurtful words and posts without thought to find out if it were even true or realize how it would affect others. I miss quilting group. I miss being able to freely go out and meet with people. I miss seeing my family and traveling. It was already so hard to do so with my conditions, and now the pandemic made it impossible.

Spring hit, and with it, we were fully in the pandemic. At work, our numbers of enrolled students were exploding with families wanting proper curriculum for their students instead of quickly assembled packets and online busywork. Right in the middle of it, we learned the dual-enrollment program I run was in big trouble. The platform we were using was getting shut down with barely a 2-month notice. My entire summer was a race to find a new program, learn the ins and outs once one was found, help with the contract, write a new handbook, move students over, train the advisors, and more. It was rough and incredibly stressful, but I did it and the students are really liking being with a proper college now. 

While that was going on, my beloved online getaway was in a crisis of another kind. In September of 2019, I'd been asked to help build up the roleplay community in Star Wars Galaxies: Legends. Many of my friends from the original game were there, and they didn't like the way some roleplay leaders were acting. There was a lot of elitism and a lot of their way or ostracized, and there was a lot of behind the scenes bashing of people. So, I jumped back into that world with my now aged up Lazana and her niece. Through Lazana, I made sure everyone who walked into Coronet Cantina (a roleplaying hot spot) was spoken to and had a friendly face. That's all I did other than her entertaining. But, because of that, I gained a following. When epic drama hit that group, and people started to split up, nearly everyone followed me instead of them. 

Suddenly, I became the enemy and the attacks hit hard. At first, I fought back with examples of the poor behavior, and the Wrecking Crew returned with lies so absurd, relentless bullying, and tried to convince the powerheads of the game that I had caused the rift. Meanwhile, I move over to a player city, went silent on any commentary, and we made Mos Vanta home - our little corner of the sandbox. They sent spies, trolls, spread their lies, and made sure I had to keep looking over my shoulder. Ten months later, this is still true. As soon as something goes wrong in Mos Vanta or in a cross-guild or cross-faction story, or even in another town entirely, someone has to attempt to point to me. Thankfully, the community in Vanta points right back and keeps me mostly protected...

Between the beauty of the stories, was a lot of stress from the above. I ended up becoming a leader of Mos Vanta, something I never wanted. But its founder was so tired of being bullied by the Wrecking Crew that he needed a break from the game and community entirely. So, I became a co-leader. As Lazana converted to Mandalorian and her story developed, I jumped back into managing a large group of very diverse people... and any decision made was likely to upset at least a third of them. But the stories are amazing, go late into the night, and distract from the constant pain I'm in, so I stayed.

Maybe I shouldn't have, but I stayed.

The Ehlers-Danlos, Dysautonomia, and all of its "friends" were progressing too. So many partial dislocations. They now happen almost daily, sometimes multiple times a day. It became harder to keep up with being active and doing home physical therapy. I'm now facing a repair and donor tendon on the left knee at the end of December. Been through this on the right one, and it is a hard recovery... but it needs to be done. The knee is in constant pain and is getting weaker and starting to pop out. It leaves me unable to keep up physically in a lot of ways, and I'm losing strength elsewhere because of that.

In June, I was finally approved for home health care after proving the clinic I had been sent to - after my beloved nurses were assigned elsewhere and the original shut down because of the pandemic - couldn't accommodate my physical disabilities. It is so very nice to be at home for the now three times a week saline infusions. I can slow drip overnight and get the maximum benefit. I now have a home physical therapist too, but she doesn't do much. She just gives me directions of things to do when she's not there. Being accessed 5 days a week was a big lifestyle change. You cannot get the site wet, the dogs need to be kept away from it, and I'm even more a walking sepsis risk, but the benefits of keeping my blood volume up at a more normal level, my bp more stable, and staying more hydrated (as gastroparesis makes it so I cannot take in enough fluids) is well worth the changes. 

Won't even go into the stress of this election and how my circle reduced even more from that.

But the combination of all the above caused me to hit a wall I never have before. Normally, I can joke off or use sarcasm to push through what the genetic nightmare does. It was becoming harder and harder to do. In community or relationship things, I found myself escalating fast. I'd go from fine to tears or anxiety attack within seconds. I started yelling at Owen, something I never did before. I kept trying to rebound, trying to meditate and use mindfulness and all of the other tricks that used to work...

And they didn't.

And it got worse. A lot worse.

Last week, I sought help. My primary care doctor (really any doctor) has never seen me cry. I broke down while requesting whatever assistance she could get me. I had already researched a counseling center closer to me, as I did not want the long drives to UVA. She wrote out the referral to the center, and yesterday I was approved for it. After my surgery, I'll be starting weekly sessions at Horse and Soul at Higgins Farm. It combines counseling with equine therapy - which is perfect for me. She also recommended medication to try to help stabilize the wild emotional shifts. So far so good with that. 

It has been quite the mixed-up year for sure.