Tips to Get Out of a Funk a Rut, or Depressed State

I'm going to keep it short and sweet.  Partially because, yes, it IS that simple and partly because no, it is NOT that simple.  Do you get what I'm saying?  Of course you don't.  Remember in my last post I stated that Depression affects people differently.  Naturally, there's no one-size-fits-all solution and for many people who have recurring depression, it's an ongoing battle.

Step 1: Give yourself time to cry, but maintain a certain routine.
Your feelings do have value and you should never feel like you're not ALLOWED to feel them.  Stuffing them in a box and hiding them away is a surefire way to have them sneak up on you later, or worse, fester and boil under the surface, while rotting away everything you like about yourself.  You shouldn't focus on crying or being sad for too long, though.  I've seen people get swallowed up in a cycle of self-pitying misery.  It does NOTHING for you.  That is why you need to maintain a routine.  Continuing with everyday life things, like cooking and cleaning not only gives you something positive to focus on, but also something stable to cling to as you process your emotions.

Step 2: How do you feel?  And why do you feel that way?
Take some time, just a few coherent moments to analyze your feelings.  Sadness, loss and other negative emotions can usually be tied to an event or series of events that evoke certain feelings.  If you feel trapped, tired, and helpless, think about what things in your life might be forcing you to feel that way.

Step 3: Analyze your problems.
Once you understand how you feel, you can usually start looking at specific problems that those feelings stem from... and begin to mitigate them.  Toxic relationships, dead end jobs, loss, boredom... once you recognize what you anxiety and depression stem from, you can begin to rationalize and implement a plan to make those things go away, or at least get yourself some coping mechanisms.

Step 4:  Be kind to others.
Some people forget that being in a funk doesn't entitle them to be a dingleberry.  Just because you're having a bad day, year, whatever, doesn't mean that being kind is no longer an option.  Being compassionate can help YOU to break out of your funk.  Every little good deed should be a positive reminder that you can contribute to other people's lives and that you do still have power over things happening around you.  Also, you can make new, awesome friends.

Step 5: Don't forget about people.
Be with your loved ones, even if you don't feel like it.  Sometimes, you can thrive in their energy.  Don't forget that here are loads of people who's lives you have touched in a good way, even though you don't realize it.

Step 6: Never stop moving forward.
Every step forward is a step in the right direction.  It gives you focus, it gives you something to look forward to and if it's the past that has you gripped with negative feelings, it can help you overcome it.

Take care of yourselves, kids.

Stay Beautiful: Make-up review: Etude House Etoinette

Remember when I said I'd do another Etude House make up review the second I got my hands on some more of their products?  Yep.  But before I get into that, let me show you some pictures of their Baby Choux packaging and such.  I forgot to do that in my last review.  Many of the photos are from Atomic Nony's blog because I forgot to photograph my Baby Choux box and such before I tossed it. 

The promotional materials in the original Korean Language.

The original packaging was a little pot.  Cute, but cumbersome, if you ask me.

The current packaging.  Sweet, streamlined and you get a few ounces more.

With that out of the way, this is a review for a lip color from their Princess Etoinette line.  For the first lipcolor, I chose the PPK005 from their 'Season 2' line released around Christmas time. 

The filigree on the box is actually metallic, though you can't tell.

That's how the actual lipstick tube looks.  No joke.

Once again, the packaging is adorable and even comes with a sweet message telling the customer to 'be the princess!'.   Also on the box are English descriptions that I can read.  "This perfumed, smooth lipstick delivers a surge of moisture and soft shimmering flush giving your lips a gorgeous look."

The color of rose petals.  It even has filigree on the actual product!

A close up of the lip stick reveals a slightly shimmery, berry red color.  It's actually a shade that I use most of the time, so it's perfect.  First, I tried putting it on the skin of my inner arm.  It glided on smoothly and was semi-sheer not unlike my M.A.C. Sheen Supreme creamy lipstick.  A welcome discovery considering that Etude House's lip color was about $10 less...with shipping. 

The lipstick has a very faint smell, like roses and peony.  It's not overwhelming but is VERY pleasant.  Also a welcome change, because I HATE that waxy crayon smell that most lipsticks have.  It's like carrying the Crayola factory right under your nose.  The sweet, gentle scent of flowers, though?  That gives me a good feeling.

Well.  The moment you guys have been waiting for.  Time for me to slather this stuff on my fat lips and show you how it looks. 

Naked Lips

One pass of the lipstick

Two passes

As you can see, the lipstick isn't very dark, despite the photo.  What it really does is smooth out the pigmentation of my lips and makes them... SUPER glossy.  I used no lip gloss at all and yet in each photo, my lips looks fuller, more moist, supple.  The lipstick didn't have any plumping agents that I could feel (those usually tingle a bit), it just gives more shine and color to your lips.

First of all, I have to say, that I LOVE the look and feel of this lipstick.  Since I favor a dramatic eye over a dramatic lip, this has great potential for me.  It's also got enough emollients so I can skip my usual lip color +gloss/vaseline on the first application. However, after wearing it for a while, that plush glossiness wears off and you'll need to apply some light lip gloss to refresh it.  However, the color remains fairly strong.  In fact, I've washed my lips twice and they're still berry pink.  

I would recommend this lipstick to anyone who wants a light lip color that refreshes easily, has a good smell and leaves your lips supple and soft.  The price isn't bad either.  Give Etude house a try next time you have a chance!

Etude House: Baby Choux Peach

When I first heard of Etude House, it was from a video by CutiePieMarzia, on Youtube.  Since Marzia has become synonymous with 'adorable adult' in many people's minds, you can already tell that this product line was brain-meltingly cute.  With her invitation to her 'Marzipans' to check out the product, I went on the hunt for more information.
Marzia and other beauty bloggers and Youtubers had featured various Etude House cleansers, primers, lip colors and foundations.  The products were all adorably packaged, reported to have a light fragrance, and seemed to give the users a smooth finish.  Unfortunately, there was a shortage of reviews from People of Color, particularly from those with a skin tone darker than Becca's 'Buttercup' shade.

About this color

Unacceptable.

After hours of searching, I finally found a review from a girl a few shades darker than myself.  She loved the way the Etude House: Sweet Recipe Baby Choux primer felt, nourished her skin, wicked away oil, and prevented breakouts with her usual foundation.  After a bit more research, I learned that the primer came in three colors: Berry, Mint and Peach.  Peach was recommended for those with dark skintones.  I went to eBay to find some of Etude House's primer for cheap.  They have it on Amazon for $15+ shipping, but some eBay sellers offer it for $9.99- shipping included.  I'll take waiting ten days over spending $15 more to try a new product. 

Now, to give you a bit of comparison, I took photos of my usual makeup results.  Forgive the darkness of the photo.  It was taken in the bathroom with a cellphone.

There I am. 

Beauty products used: Derma E Tea tree oil moisturizer, Ambi Even and Clear Daily moisturizer with SPF 30, American Beauty liquid foundation in shade 11, Covergirl Professional Powder in shade 120.  Avon Glimmersticks eyeliner in black, Maybelline Collosal Volume mascara.  L'occitane Pivione Flora No. 4 lipstick (Just a dab to help even out my lips), Vaseline to smooth out the subtle application of the lipcolor.. There you go.   That's my usual routine

Since I knew that Baby Choux is Etude House's BB cream/primer base, I understood that it was supposed to be your SPF protection, moisturizer and primer all in one.  So I skipped the Dema E, Ambi SPF moisturizer and jumped straight into my foundation right after I applied it.

I look 20 times brighter.

Beauty Products Used: Etude House Baby Choux in peach, American Beauty liquid foundation in shade 11, Covergirl Professional Powder in shade 120.  Avon Glimmersticks eyeliner in black, Maybelline Collosal Volume mascara.  L'occitane Pivione Flora No. 4 lipstick, and Vaseline.

Things I noticed:
This primer didn't make me feel like I was wearing a mask.  It's smooth and creamy, like you'd expect.  Although it initially looks chalky when applying, once it's rubbed in, your skin appears smoother, acne scars seem faded, and pores smaller.  I noticed that I used less foundation after applying this product.  It provided better coverage and looked more natural.  My lip color and eyeliner seemed to glide onto my face.  Since I applied Baby Choux to my lips as well, they looked more pouty.  Since they are already big, I decided not to do that again.

The results you see above were successfully duplicated on subsequent applications of the Baby Choux primer.  I look more natural in my makeup and was frequently complimented on having 'cleared up my skin'.  HA!  Another unexpected, added benefit is that my skin seems smoother and better hydrated overall after using the product a few times per week.  My acne break outs are also less severe. The fact that the product includes pore clarifying extracts could have something to do with that.  Other, more expensive anti-acne primers I've purchased don't yield equal results and often make me feel like I'm wearing a mask. 

I recommend Baby Choux to anyone willing to try it.  As a BB cream or just a primer, it works beautifully.  Just work out the optimal amount for your skin-tone.  In the future, I'm going to try some other products by Etude House.  I was so pleased with their primer; maybe their lip colors, stains and cleansers would work for me as well.

Stay Beautiful!

A Health Update

I'm sure you've noticed how more of my posts have steadily become less about beaded chain, wire work and fancy handmade pendants and more about simpler stringing projects.  It's for a reason, you know. 

If I don't have a nice, flowery descriptions for later pieces, do not be surprised.  I don't feel like typing.  My hands have been shaky and I've been in an unusual amount of pain recently.  Don't be alarmed.  It's like this for me rather often, what with the whole "Idiopathic Neuropathy" aka "It looks like you have MS, but we're going to wait until it gets worse before doing anything" business.

Thankfully, I'm proactive when I'm feeling well AND optimistic about the future.  If I didn't try to maintain over a month's worth of buffer while I was able, there would have been no posts for the last several weeks. 

With my buffer running out and my ability to produce or even plan more imaginative pieces, don't be surprised if you see new versions of the same designs, random blurbs or reviews about movies, or no posts at all.  I'm going to do my best to continue crafting, but it will be a bit more difficult.

That is all.  Now let me go crawl back under blanket.  I'll remain cautiously optimistic from there.

Skincare: Argon Shower Gel

I don't know about any of you, but I have weird skin.   I drink water, eat fruit and all that to promote healthy skin, but no matter what I do, there's always persistent dryness and random acne breakouts.  Since I was old enough to recognize that my skin wasn't perfect, I've employed an arsenal of skincare products to slather on and scrub off.

Recently, whilst in Marshall's I spied some Argan oil skincare products.  I've had great success with using Argan oil in my dry hair and on my sensitive scalp, so I thought that trying it in skincare products would probably be a great idea.  It makes my hair bouncy and shiny, so why wouldn't it make my skin silky smooth?

I tried Phytorelax Laboratories Olio di Argan bath and shower gel. 

Made in Italia.  So fancy

It was readily available at Marshall's for less than the usual $26 and looked fancy.  The 16.9 ounce bottle cost a total of $6 bucks.  That's no more than my usual, non-luxury shower gel (that's going to be reformulated because it has those fish-poisoning plastic beads in it).

Here's my assessment of this product.

Smell:
An important property is scent.  They are supposed to make you CLEAN and smell nice.  It's their primary purpose.  We wouldn't make so many kinds if that's not what they were supposed to do.  Well, the scent of Phytorelax's shower gel isn't anything special.  It isn't overpowering or especially fragrant.  It smells like chrysanthemums, so when you use it, you literally smell as fresh as a daisy.  That's nice.

Texture:
As far as shower gel textures go, this one was unexpectedly thin.  It was surprisingly watery for something so luxurious.  The lather wasn't overwhelming either.  In fact, it barely lathered up at all.  However, this is a good thing.  Things that work into a luxurious lather usually have TONS of salts and dry your skin in the worst way.  Phytorelax's formula has a lot of argan oil and plant extracts instead.  It's got tons of plant acids included as well, so it's like a mild chemical peel on top of being nourishing.

Effects and experience:
I followed my usual shower and moisturizing rituals with this shower gel.  After the first wash, I noted that it literally left me squeaky clean.  Still, there was no real change in the texture of my skin.  At least, I didn't notice it right away.  I found that my skin wasn't as itchy as it usually is.  After the third use, I noticed that some of my eczema patches started to flake off.  The resulting dark marks weren't as bad as they usually are, either.  I found that my skin didn't want as much moisturizer as it usually does and it didn't feel tight or itchy at any point in the day. 

Final Imprission:
This product will leave your skin cleansed and refreshed with just a hint of fragrance and extra moisture.  It doesn't smother your skin with harsh chemicals, salts or silicones.  That limits the amount of irritation you'll suffer later.  While I love how the product made my skin behave and feel after a few washes, I really wish there was a bit of exfoliant in it so I could use it on my feet like I use my regular shower gel.  I'm cautious to complain about it because it did a great job with handling my skin issues, despite not having all the 'perks' my old shower gel has.  I think I'll try tweaking it a bit with some ground avocado seed to increase it's exfoliating power in the future.  We'll see how that goes. 
Until then, give it a try.  You might like it.

Hair Care Part 2: Deep Conditioning

So I mentioned in my last post that I'd take you all on a walk-through of my hair care routine.  I'm not feeling up to writing a long, metaphor laden preamble, so I'll get right to it.

It all starts with a comb:
I always start by thoroughly combing my hair.

 It helps removes tangles, dead hair, and aligns the hair shafts nicely.  This is important because you don't want to FIGHT with your hair while detangling.

The Conditioning:
I start by conditioning my hair.  Yes, before I even wash it.

This time I used Fructis

 I usually put a 'cheapo' conditioner on my hair right before I got to bed.

A huge glob of it, but this isn't even enough.

When you sleep, your body opens up all its pores.  Sleeping with conditioner on your head is an opportunity for your hair to suck in some additional moisture.

But seriously, this is starting to look gross

And I still need more...

I usually put enough conditioner to fully coat my hair from root to tip because, well, my hair's DRY.  It needs every drop of moisture.  As it sucks in all that extra moisture, it starts to curl quite nicely.

Hair, this is what you could be...if you weren't so UNRULY.

It's even pretty like this, too bad curls are so hard to maintain.  I tried letting my hair be itself for a while, but I only managed to keep it neat and cute looking for about 3 days.  After I've fully coated it, I put it in a bun, like so.

And then I put one of those thin plastic shower caps on it so I don't ruin my pillows

The Washing:

When I wake up, I rinse out all of the conditioner, which has dried over night.  The result is a very lively head of hair.  But we are not done.  I still haven't WASHED my hair.  So, I wash my hair with a mild shampoo, usually 2-3 times, depending on how I feel about it.  You know when your hair needs extra attention.  If you've been sweating at a gym all week, it needs to be washed THOROUGHLY.  You do not want any nasty crap left on your hair when you put the good conditioner on it.

The Second Conditioning:
Remember what I said about using good products to take care of your dry hair's moisture needs?  I condition with Moroccanoil intense hydrating hair mask.  This stuff is full off all kinds of natural botanicals, healthy oils and proteins for your dry, damaged hair. 

Good Product

It's as thick as vegetable shortening too.  If you have less dry hair, or your hair is straighter than mine, DO NOT USE the intense hydrating mask.  It will weigh your hair down and make it look lank and stringy.  Use the 'light' or 'weightless mask' by Moroccanoil. You'll get all the moisture, but you won't look like you waded through an oil slick.

Moroccanoil is very specific about HOW you should be using their product.  On the jar, it states that you should comb the product through your wet hair.  DO THIS.  I've found that when I just glob it on there, not all of my hair is thoroughly conditioned.   In fact, some of it feels just as dry and crusty as it did before.  So, I comb it through with a nice, wide-toothed detangling comb, like a good little girl.  I let it sit on my hair for 1-2 hours, usually under one of those salon style dryers if I can manage it.  Heat helps to open your hair's pores up again and seals in the moisture.  In this case, it's a good thing.

The Rinsing:
Finally, I carefully rinse my hair so that I get all of the hair mask out.  Then, I gently massage the Moroccanoil oil treatment or intense hydrating cream into my hair as a leave-in conditioner and let it drip dry.  My end result is this: shiny, bouncy, waves of curls.  Isn't it pretty?

Until I bust out my iron comb and straighten it, that is.

My next post will be about a crafting project.  I swear.  I've got my mojo back!

Hair Care for Black Girls

Not to leave any of my non-African American readers out, but this post is for those of us born with the iconic, kinky, curly and downright untamable nappy hair!  Hair has long been seen as a woman's crowning glory and everyone wants the luxury or at least the ability to grow a full head of healthy hair.  Sadly, that seems to be difficult for African American girls.  I have seen some heads in some sorry states: over processed, thinning from sew-in, glue-in, braid-in weaves that stress folicles, poor hair care practices and insane levels of breakage.

A child with traction alopecia

I've seen girls with actual bald spots, patches of hair so dry and brittle that running a comb through it means it's not there any more.  It's not just teens with their whacky fashions or older women going through 'The Change'.  It's epidemic.  Children have these problems.  It shouldn't this common.  I find it disturbing when people MARVEL at the fact that I have hair passed my shoulder blades and it doesn't look like broom straw.
I tried to get to the ah... root of the problem.  A large part of it seems to be a combination of ignorance, laziness, and the kind of miserly behavior that often leads to people with a fancy looking object that will not last long.  African American women and girls don't seem to have access to the basic fundamentals necessary to properly clean, condition, and care for their hair.  I'm not saying that folks should abandon their beauty routines, but they need to make some changes.
As a child, my mother ALWAYS stressed the importance of conditioning and properly washing your hair.  As a result, I've developed a set of rules that work for ME.  As we all know, sometimes long, thick hair is a blessing of nature and there's nothing you can do to make your genetics change overnight.  But here are some basic rules that you should follow to help ensure you have the healthiest hair you can have.

 1. Your hair is alive.  Pay attention to its needs to keep it healthy.
People sort of forget this.  Just because you want to get a relaxer this week, doesn't mean your hair feels the same way.  Touch your hair, if it feels crunchy or brittle, it's dry and needs extra moisture.  If it's limp and shiny, it needs less moisture.  If you have a lot of split ends, you need to trim it before they creep all the way up to your scalp and damage the hair permanently.  You need to make sure your beauty routine is built with your hair in mind.  If you deny it what it needs, like a good significant other, it will leave you.

2. Spend Some Money on Good Products.
Not all hair care products are created equal.  Chances are if you're only paying $5 for your shampoo and conditioner, they're filled with harsh alcohols, drying agents and sulfates.  African American hair can't really afford to lose moisture to poor hair care products.  Try a sulfate free shampoo (It's going to cost you) that includes natural plant extracts to cleanse and nourish your hair.   The same goes for conditioners.  Often times the one that makes your hair smell like berries and sunshine doesn't nourish it the best.  I've found that the best conditioners include natural oils.  The only problem with using these products is you'll have to wash your hair more often.  Natural oils have the tendency to go rancid.  You don't want to stink. 

3. Be Gentle to Your Hair.
Chemical treatments, coloring, heat-styling, blow drying, teasing and hair spray all take their toll on hair.  But the way you handle it when you wash, comb and sleep on it also play a part.  My mom always tells me to comb my hair out before I wash it, to be careful not to tangle it when I wash it and to be extra careful and patient when combing it out before wet styling.  Wash your hair like you wash your panty hose or how you lather up a sponge.  Squeeze and release it while it's full of soap so you don't tangle it.  Wash your scalp too.  Massage it gently to help break up dandruff and clogged pores so new hair can grow in full and healthy.  Do not yank your hair.  Always comb starting from the tips and work your way up to the roots.  Remove harsh tangles with your fingers to avoid ripping out your hair.

4. Deep Condition and Air Dry as Much as Possible.
Deep Conditioning is when you let your hair soak in the conditioner for more than 2 hours.  It's a pain to sit around with a wet head, wrapped up in saran wrap, but trust me, it works wonders on your follicles.  You'll notice an immediate change, even if you use a cheapo conditioner.  Air drying also helps your hair to regain some of its natural vigor.  With blow drying, the oils and moisturizers from your good conditioner get blasted right off it, leaving it dryer and more naked.  For the sake of expedience, sometimes you have to blow dry your hair, but when you can, give your hair a break.  Spend a day inside and catch up on chores instead of getting ready to do a ton of running.

And that's it, pretty much.  Check out my next post for my personal deep conditioning routine.  

Product Review: Shills Black Mask

A while ago, I was hunting for some sort of remedy to help with my skin's sudden tendency to explode with nasty cystic acne and I stumbled upon a sort of facial mask that peels off and apparently purifies.  The product is created and marketed by Shills an Asian beauty company.
Many Americans are insanely enamored with Asian countries and practically scream, "OOOH ASIAN PEOPLE!!" like poorly educated otaku in crappy cosplay.

But not Sailor Bubba, his Cosplay's ALWAYS Awesome!

Knowing this, I was skeptical of the reviews that read like a dating column for a mail order bride instead of detailing an experience with the actual product.  But hey.  I've got nothing to lose, so I bought a tube.
Price:
With any product one of the first things that folks look at is the price of the item.  No one wants to shell out an arm and a leg for something that may or may not work.  The cost of the Shills Black Mask was pretty reasonable considering its a facial in a tube.  Only about 3 bucks with free shipping.

Appearance:
The outward appearance of the product was pretty basic.  An all black box, and all black tube, a slip of paper inside detailing the ingredients in the product and what each of them does.

 ...Written in Gothic-style type face befitting a horror movie poster.  Should I really be using this?  Is the real cure for my bad skin or a rabid vampire leaping from the bottle and gnoshing on my neck?  Hmm...

Upon squeezing out the product on my hand, I found that it looked a lot like ...tar.  It was THICK and I mean thick.  I've used peel off facial masks before and all of them have a viscous, sticky texture that dries to a slightly stretchy film.  This stuff was in  a category all its own.  First off, it was BLACK.  When you read the package, you expect something that's dark colored, possibly semi-transparent, but no.  This stuff is as blacker than the bottom of the Mariana Trench at midnight.  It was also VERY sticky, literally strong enough to stick my fingers together.  How was I supposed to get it on my face?!  ...Luckily I managed,  with these results!

Looks like Black-Face not a purifying mask!

Final Review: Well, I didn't experience any extreme skin changes like all the folks posting macro photos of millions of gross blackheads attached to the shills mask, but it was very benificial nonetheless.  My skin was SO SMOOTH, my pores weren't as clogged, the blemishes that remained dried up and flaked off, AND alarmingly, my dark spots were a lot less dark.  I also learned that you should never get this stuff in your eyebrows unless you want to lose them when you peel it off.  My whole face felt like it had been plucked!  Ow!
At least I won't have to get my eyebrows waxed now. 

May 16, 2011: The First Appointment

My first doctor's appointment was on the 16th of May at the Illinois Eye Institute.  I started the day as usual.  Mother and I had discussed how I would handle work and my appointment schedule and we both agreed that coming in to work and then going to the appointment would allow me to maximize my hours (I only work an hourly temp position) and get me to my appointment on time.  Even though we'd discussed the details the weekend before, the morning of the 16th reminded me of my very first overnight field trip in grade school.  It was filled with questions.

Do you have your journal?
Is it up to date?
Do you have enough bus fare?
Do you have your directions to the eye clinic?
Are you sure you don't need me to come with you?
Do you need me to come pick you up?
Did you remember to get a book to read while you're in the waiting room?
Are they going to dialate your eyes?
Do you have sunglasses?

So many questions that I had to remind my Mother, the Principal of Punctuality (Read: The person who lives by the mantra"You're late if you get there 20 minutes early" ) that we were going to be late.  We rushed to the car and onto the packed expressway (We were late, afterall) and she started the questions again.  It was both endearing and frustrating. 
I knew that she was going to be like this until my problem was resolved, she probably wouldn't sleep, her blood pressure was going to go up, she was going to have migraines all the time, and her constant questioning was going to drive me up a tree.  She's like that about everything serious.  If it's not right, she'll poke and prod and pick at it until it is or, at least, until she completely understands the problem, COMPLETELY.  It's one of those character differences that causes more frustration between the two of us than anything.  I'll say and accept, "The sky is blue, but I wish it were a little more purple.  I'll draw a picture with a purple sky."  She'll question "Why is it blue and how can we turn it the right shade of purple NOW, get to work on time, cook dinner, sew a glamorous evening gown, and photograph it all by 10 p.m. without killing ourselves?"  It doesn't fail to whip me up into a frenzy of hysterics right along with her.

Work proceeded as normal, well as normal as possible.  My mother was still emailing me periodically with questions. 

I skipped lunch and boarded the CTA, following their RTA trip planner's directions to the Illinois Eye Institute and...promptly got lost.  Not only was the route unnecessarily convoluted, but it placed me in an area where the buses only travel one way, which meant, there was no hope of me getting back to where I started.  I ended up calling the IEI to tell them what had happened.  The very nice lady answering phones was helpful and gave me step by step directions that would lead me to the clinic.  I had no problems.  She then wrote out directions and drew a little map to help me find my way home, in a non-judgemental, grandmotherly way.  After getting lost in downtown Chicago (I have no idea why the RTA directions even included that part.  I pass the IEI on my way home.  Downtown is in the complete opposite direction.), having to walk fifty-eleven miles in 100 degree weather and sweating my hair out, I was fit to be tied... and I was pretty sure I smelled like a hog.  So, while I waited for the doctor to finish with his other patient- who took my spot since I was late, I freshened up, worked on some jewelry.
The doctor that was handling my case- We'll call him Dr. Bright- was a nice, friendly guy in his late twenties, with a huge smile and an eagerness to help that's unheard of.  He performed all the standard checks to my eyes before I interrupted him with my little journal of my symptoms.  He was astounded by how meticulously documented it was, made photocopies and swore to forward them to a colleague who knew more about this stuff than he did. 

Then, he performed more tests, all of which came up normal.  No glaucoma, no macular degeneration, no Fuch's dystrophy.  Then, he started looking in the backs of my eyes.  He was like one of the main protagonists of an anime, "We're going to get to the bottom of this and save the universe!"  It touched my heart and I knew that I was in good hands. ..Until he made a strange 'Oh...uhmm.' noise.
Suddenly, I became aware of how long he was studying each eye, the curious noises he was making and the subtlest twitches of his eyebrows (the only things I could really see with a big hulking back-of-your-eye-ball-seeing device strapped to my head).  Having a doctor who's eyebrows are doing the samba while they're examining you is not usually a good sign.  It's definitely not a good sign when he tells you, "Well, you wanna follow me to room XYZ for some more tests?  Don't worry!  It's nothing serious.  Just a vision field test."

May 9-15, 2011: And Then I Got Angry

Betrayal or the feeling of being left out often becomes hurt.  Hurt often becomes outrage.  Outrage turns into plain... rage.  It usually takes a lot to make me truly angry, but when it happens, it has happened.  Very little can be done to make it unhappen.  Like an infection, it creeps in and taints my mood, the way I process information, and the way I conduct myself.  It festers.  It is a nasty, disgusting feeling.
After my mother dismissed my crisis.  I was hurt, for the entire day.  It was my fault, really.  I'm always slow in the mornings, but still, rationality had gone to hibernate by that point.  I felt listless, but I at least tried to mirror my old self.  I made a few dry jokes, smiled where appropriate, forced myself to remember that it was Mother's Day and I that I ought to be respectful.  The following day, however, was an entirely different story.  Monday morning, I woke up blind and angry.  At my mother. 
For once, my furrowed brow was not an expression of confusion, frustration or concentration.  Just this once, my frown was actually me thinking in my head, "You mean old lady, you!"  Don't laugh.  I habitually call people exactly what feel that they are when I'm angry.  I don't make up fancy names for them or use the common expletives like "A-hole", "B***", or whatever this means "@&%@)$*@&!*"  No.

As a child, the very first time I was angry enough to want to call someone a mean name, I decided that the common mean names just didn't work and swearing was a filthy habit for people who didn't read the dictionary often enough to realize that the most hurtful words are the ones with 4 or more syllables that tell an actual truth.  The truth is the most important part.  It can't be truly insulting or truly vent your frustration if it's not true. Mean (read: irritable and/or insensitive) Old (read: older than me) Lady is the absolute meanest thing I could ever bring myself to call my mother. 

It's hard for me to stay angry for long.  I tend to get sad instead.  I tried to be more understanding of her angle in this whole thing.  I had endangered the timeliness of our arrival at church and she didn't really know what was going on.  Still, it upset me because I had tried to tell her and she didn't believe me.

It isn't the first time it's happened.  I decided that it was safer for my peace of mind and my health to just...accept that my mother doesn't always understand me when I try to tell her I have a problem.  This incident was something that I would have to take care of on my own, all on my own.  I could, ask her for advice on where to go to get help.  I could ask her for help and support once the problem had been diagnosed or resolved, but it was largely up to me. 
When you are small, it's hard to convey the seriousness of 'mommy I hurt here'.  You don't know how to communicate that something's broken in your body.  You just know that it hurts.  Kissing boo-boos, lecturing your kids about too much TV, and telling them they're faking has never helped anyone's medical conditions. (Some people actually do that.  There have been articles about child abuse cases where the parents just gave their screaming, bleeding child a bath and a tylenol.  Thankfully, this has nothing to do with anything that extreme)  Those are easy outs.  Those things don't actually fix ANYTHING.

At this point, I realized that I was well and truly an adult.  I didn't have a real job, but I was still an adult.  I was no longer dependent on my mother believing me when I said that I was sick.  No one could tell me what was wrong in my body but me.  So, I said nothing else to my mother about it.  If she didn't believe me enough to try to help me, it was up to me to find a way to help myself.  I started a journal, documenting my symptoms.  After a while, I worked up my courage and asked her what eye clinic had the best, most state of the art equipment and doctors available.  It surprised her, but she gave the information willingly.

It surprised her again when her nosiness lead her to leaf through my desk planner and she saw the notation stating that I had an appointment on the 16th at 3:00pm. 
A strange hush came over her.  She spoke to me with a wide-eyed, still somewhat disbelieving tone.  "You were serious?" When I told her yes, she said she didn't know that I was serious.  It sparked an argument which, now that I think about it, was more me yelling at her, screaming all of the frustrations that had bothered me since the morning blindness first occurred.  And this time, she listened. 

That made me happier than anything.  She listened and we resolved that I would attend my appointments and when I needed my mother to come with me, I would ask her to.  We both worked out that the whole blow-by-blow of what was happening would likely drive my mother out of her mind.  She was like that shortly before and after she was diagnosed with hypertension, so it was likely to happen again.  A certain level of disengagement would allow me to be an adult and minimize her stress levels.   That was our little plan. 

April 30-May8, 2011: It'll Get Better Soon.

For the next few days, I'd suspended my fears about my condition and waited for it to clear up on its own.  It was stress.  Nothing serious.  I had final papers due for my recreational classes.  Even though the classes themselves were recreational, the grades were not. Grades are serious, you know. 

I thought that this thing, this strange 'AM only' blindness would go away after I turned in my final papers.  There wouldn't be any reason to panic or be afraid.  Still, I started researching possible causes and planned to schedule an appointment at the eye doctor's anyway, just in case. 
Some of the possible causes were downright scary.  Fuch's Dystrophy, a condition that causes the cornea to thicken until you're completely blind.  Glaucoma, high eye pressure kills your optic nerve.  Macular degeneration, your retina tears off the back of your eye, or eats holes in itself, leaving you completely blind and without much hope. 
But, the majority of the conditions I just listed only happen to older people, or people who have a history of problems that I don't have, like high blood pressure.  I was doubtful that it was anything that serious.  I could be wrong, but it was highly unlikely.  If it cleared up after life cooled down, I could just cancel my appointment and be done with the whole thing.  No harm done.  Just stress.
But... it didn't get any better.  Nothing changed, not even after all the papers were turned in and graduation actually happened.  I woke up on Mother's day and my vision was worse than ever.  It wasn't clearing at all.

All the other days, it cleared up after I got up and started moving around.  But, it wasn't clearing up that day.  I love my mother to pieces, but I'll be honest.  That day, that Mother's Day, when she started rushing me to get ready for church, I snapped at her.  She incorrectly guessed that I was mad because I couldn't find my shoes.  Shoes. 
I think that just made me even more upset because that wasn't the real problem.  That was just one thing that I happened to rant about that morning.  I realized that I was being unfair by being unnecessarily hostile over the wrong things, so I actually tried to tell her what was wrong. 

I couldn't see in one eye.  I was bumping into things because I couldn't judge distance as well.  I was frustrated because it wasn't getting better.  I was angry that it seemed like my life was getting worse instead of becoming this fabulous world of adventure that I had envisioned it would be.  I was angry because I'd worked very hard to get through college, struggled, stressed and worried over money and grades for years.  Only to come out of the whole ordeal and go BLIND.  It wasn't fair!  I didn't want to be blind.  I didn't have health insurance, so whatever it was, I couldn't afford to get it fixed.  Sure, I got money for graduation, but all of the illnesses that sounded remotely like mine required tens of thousands of dollars to treat and screen for.  I was terrified and I felt like I'd been cheated out of my entire life.  My future was braille, if I could learn it.  But, everything I've used to define myself involved crafts, color, and beauty.  Now, my future was a formless world of unending WHITE.  No crafting, no coloring, no reading, no NOTHING.  My future was nothing.   

But, I was only able to tell her that I couldn't see out of my left eye.  She insisted that I hurry up and get ready for church.  Quick, forceful and to the point, like always.  I really needed her to listen, not be the resolute Iron Woman that I've admired my whole life... but it was a done deal.  My habitual morning slowness had cut me off from reaching her when I needed to.

I was heart broken. 

I went back into my room and got ready for church. 

April 27, 2011: 10 days before Graduation

Less than two weeks before graduation, life threw me an undeserved, hellishly ass-blistering curve ball (Sorry mom.  I know you're reading this, but I can't think of any non-expletive language strong enough for how it made me feel).  I woke up one day and found I was blind in my left eye.

Let that sink in.  Keep in mind that I was less than 10 days from graduation, already dealing with enough stress to make an elephant have a coronary, and looking forward to the freedom and independence that graduation day would give me.  I mean, I was going to be a real, live adult, able to confidently apply for real jobs with real benefits, maybe help mom get a house, maybe...maybe start my own business.  I was the future.  The WORLD was mine.  All mine.  I just had to open my eyes and see the opportunity, to reach out and grab what was right in front of my face.  At least that's how I felt, until I opened my eyes, eager for that new day and found half of that world obscured by a field of pure white.

Any sane person would have been completely hysterical.  But, I don't operate like that.  I don't panic first.  I analyze my situation, thoroughly.  I research the problem.  I locate the solution and I take a fist full of analysis to whatever 'expert' I need to see to get the problem fixed.  After the business is taken care of, the problem, fixed, and there's nothing left to do, then I panic.  My freak-out moment occurs in the moments after, when everyone's out of the knife fight without a scratch, sitting at home, watching television and in fresh pajamas.  I guess that's how long it takes for my brain to stop analyzing things in the third person and realize that it could have very easily taken its last think.

So, in a way that was totally natural for me, I sat on my bed, bewildered and staring at what should have been my room.  I recognized that it didn't look like my room, but only because half of it was obscured with fog.  I closed my 'bad eye', looked through my 'good eye'.  Switched.  Repeated the process.  It was certainly my left eye.  My left eye was malfunctioning.  The entire thing was seeing white.  I decided that it must be dirty.  I wiped it.  The world was still white.

I went into the bathroom, looked in the mirror to see if I'd somehow acquired cataracts in my sleep.  My eye looked normal.  Was it glaucoma?  It runs in my family.  I blinked and watched my pupils contract and expand.  It was the same test the eye doctor did every time I had an exam.  I know, because I asked them why they kept shining that blasted light in my face.  My left eye was the same, clear, milk chocolate brown as my right and its pupil contracted and expanded when light hit it, like normal.  I washed it out with eye drops.  Nothing changed.   I performed my morning ablutions as usual because my mother was yelling 'AREN'T YOU GOING TO WORK TODAY!?' in the background. 

I stumbled back to my room, a little disoriented, more disoriented than I realized.  I sat on my bed in complete shock for a full 25 minutes, just blinking.  I decided that it must be stress.  Stress could do anything to the human body.  By the time I got dressed, I could see as well as I did the day before.  See?  Stress.

Graduation Update

I haven't updated in forever.  No, this time there's no excuse.  There is no happy-ending sort of 'life is busy' explanation as to why I've been absent.  The truth is, I'm tired.

I'm tired, and I'm sad, and disgusted with the way my life is progressing.  I haven't even bothered thinking about my blog because it represents the things I plan to accomplish in life.  Recent developments in my life have caused me to wonder if I've over-estimated my potential.  I like to be progressive, to see that I'm actually going somewhere and making a difference somehow.  Every tiny setback is a personal insult.  To be dramatic, each setback, real or imagined is a scourge on my pride and my mission to be the absolute best Lauren, daughter of the Mahogany Stylist ever. 

None of what I'm posting now makes any sense, but it will after a few more blog posts.