Ah, Summer. I know it's arrived not by the naturally warming weather, or the fact that my swamp cooler is now on more often then not. I recognize Summer's presence by the slam my blog stats take. You may have noticed that I don't blog about the Apple iPhone or all the reasons why President Bush has or has not ruined this country (Global Warming is all his fault, ya know! That rising polar bear population is his personal responsibility. That's why the Inuit Eskimos marched on Washington - the polar bears want to move in with them instead of clinging to melting icebergs). I cover disabilities, which, understandably, is not as popular a topic as politics. I have to grow my reader base in slow ramps over the year with big drops over the Summer. Each Fall I grow a little more, and I grow accustomed to the new feeling in the comments section. Subscriptions are way up with only a tiny hit after Memorial Day weekend. I think that's wonderful. I thank all of you for subscribing. I also enjoy reading your comments, even the negative ones.But I don't really want to blog about blogging today.
This has been a very hard week for me. I regret not having posted more, but I've been unable to. I fear I have a tiny window here to blog coherently before I sink back into the fog. My motor tic disorder has been out of control this week, as has my sleep. I go through phases where I have to sleep, no matter how badly I wish otherwise. I'm simply neurologically off. And yet, no matter how much I sleep I twitch and tic and spasm for hours and hours. Very unusual even for me. It happens about once a year. And where ever my biological clock is I stay at that schedule until I'm through with the cycle. I have no idea why. Perhaps I push myself so much that I pay the price once a year for a few weeks. Perhaps it's just part of the problem. At this moment, it has taken me three weeks just to fall asleep before 6am and wake at 11am. Three weeks. And I've been trying.
At any rate, blogging is the last thing I worry about when I come out of the fog and can type and think and actually be productive. I have my girls to homeschool and my art to attend to and the pennywhistle to play. Oh, I thank God Above for pennywhistles. I can't imagine life without them. I've developed these exercises with the pennywhistle that help me push through the fog and become more in control. Not completely in control, but better able to help around the house and help the girls. I've been working on drawing exercises as well that help connect eye to brain to hand, but they aren't as fully developed. Besides, all the exercises in the world are useless if I am ticking so badly I cannot control my fingers.
But I don't want your pity. I'm just letting you know what I'm dealing with at the moment. This blog is about my efforts to deal with neurological disabilities like AD/HD, Depression, and tic disorders with attitude and humor. I'm not feeling too funny right now, but I need to write about the setbacks as much as the successes. Somebody out there needs to know that they can keep fighting even when it gets hard. That's what I'm doing: fighting. I want my life back and no disability, no matter how invisible it is, is going to take it away from me. How's that for attitude?
