Tag Archives: vents


I wake up to throbbing, burning pain.  I’m stiff when I wake up; every joint feels swollen, every limb feels made of lead, and I’m not always steady on my feet.  I fumble for my cane, put on my bifocals, grab my water bottle and cell phone.  I try to carry as much as I can when I head upstairs since I don’t care to make multiple trips.  Heading up the stairs, I wonder if my legs will obey me and if I can avoid near-syncope.  One of my greatest fears is fainting while I’m on the staircase.  I lose my footing on the stairs often enough as it is. . .

I coffee up, trying to chase away the mental cobwebs that are never fully gone.  I take muscle relaxants, arthritis pills, pain meds.  I chase my three young children around the house, cleaning up their various shenanigans.  I wince every time I lift my 2-year-old onto the changing table.  I can’t lift my arms above my head without excruciating pain.  Come to think of it, I can’t do much of anything without wanting to cry.

I have fibromyalgia and a suspected autoimmune disease.  I’m weak, I tire easily, I’m light/sun-sensitive, and I am always in pain.  If I had to pinpoint its origin, it’s as though there’s a layer between muscle and bone, and that layer constantly feels like it’s on fire.

Sometimes it feels as though people don’t believe my pain exists.  Maybe it’s because they can’t see the problem, or that they just can’t understand the kind of chronic pain I have.  Truth is, sometimes I think I’m just crazy.  If I hadn’t seen the blood test results myself, many times, I might wonder too if what I have is really real.  I’m waiting on more blood tests to come back to see if they can pinpoint what makes me like this.

I fight so hard, take so many measures, take so many pills, just to feel the tiniest bit of relief.  When I do feel better, I often break down sobbing because it’s depressing to fight this hard to still feel so shitty, and think that that’s the best I can hope for most days.  There are more things I can’t do than I can, especially with my kids, and it makes me feel broken.  I feel broken, disabled, less than, unfixable.  I might feel better if I had a diagnosis, if I could point at something and say, “THIS is what’s wrong with me.”  Not knowing makes things worse.

I worry that I’m a burden: to my husband, for having someone so broken to take care of, that I can’t do more; to my children, like I’m cheating them out of having the kind of mother they deserve; even to my doctors, for being so difficult to diagnose.

I’ve seen a neurologist, who felt that my neurological symptoms are secondary to an underlying condition.  I’ve been to a rheumatologist, who believes my underlying condition is most probably an autoimmune disease, but doesn’t know which one.  My urologist, gynecologist, dermatologist, ophthalmologist, internist, and primary feel the same way.  Now, I’ve been referred to another rheumatologist.  If he comes to a dead-end with me too, I’ll be referred out of state.

For the most part, they’ve all said that one of two things could happen: I could get miraculously better, which they all agree is unlikely, or I could get worse enough for something to show up in my blood tests.  This leaves me praying every day that I either get the most unlikely miracle of good health, or that I get worse enough and raise the right antibodies to nail down which disease I have.  In the meantime, I bear the burden of depression, anxiety, panic attacks, insomnia, and constant, disabling, debilitating pain.

I know there are people who have conditions worse than mine, and I don’t want to take anything away from their own ordeals.  I write this because I need an outlet, because people have asked me to share, because it’s one of the only things I can still do.

Many of you are tired of hearing me complain.  Trust me when I say I’m more tired of it than you are.


Holy absentee blogger, Batman!

I’ve sort of been writing.  Elsewhere.  Stuff more for me and less for public consumption.  I just haven’t been writing enough, which is likely why I feel… congested? emotionally.  Time for a cathartic dump.

I’ve been exhausted, aching, and/or ill, for what seems like for.ev.er.  I have depression/anxiety/panic issues, and fibromyalgia, and chronic back pain from an ancient injury.  Those are all the basics that are with me on an almost daily basis.  I’ve had in increase in migraines (complete with aura, awesome), a resurgence of insomnia, an uptick in panic attack intensity and frequency, and some unexplained diffuse lymphadenopathy which hit me like a freight train.  And this has all just been my shit.  Each of the kids has had their own (typical, uneventful, unremarkable, viral) illness, and John has had his fair share of ickies.

So through all this shit, a lot of things have taken a back burner.  This blog was one.  My spinning.  My painting.  My knitting too, on occasion. Reading, some writing, most frivolous/fun things.

I’ve spent more time primping and preening.  I figure if I feel like absolute shit, I will at least look good.  Hot, even.

I listen to more music than before. [Side note: each of the kids has a distinct musical preference. JR = bluegrass/jam bands, classic rock. Mia = ’80s hair, metal, industrial.  River = r&b and hip hop.  These are usually incompatible genres, often leading to musical chaos and at least one disappointed child.  Thank goodness for Pandora.]

I text more, play Words with Friends, nurse an ever-teething baby.

River’s not really a baby anymore.  He’s 26+ lbs of adventure, charm, and mischief.  He turned ONE YEAR OLD on July 3.  My Itty Bitty Baby Boy is ONE.  It’s amazing, and kind of heartbreaking.  (He got cake.  He loved it.  He took his first steps just days before that.)

I’ve reconnected with some really great people.  My friends and my music have really gotten me through some crappy times these last few months.  Thank you.

My lymph nodes are all starting to calm down, finally.  My spleen still hurts, but it too is on the mend.  I have medication for the panic attacks and insomnia.  Now that I’m getting at least 4 hours of sleep a night and am in less pain, I’m starting to feel like things are looking up.

Maybe I’ll get over this mental block I have about sharing certain things and y’all might see some more posts.

Pictures soon, promise!

Expounding on Idiots

My last post was a bit vague. There are a lot of idiots in the world, sure, and I encounter my fair share.

But I have one bitch in particular trying to peddle her shit to me. Should she continue to contact me, I’m contacting an attorney to discuss harassment and stalking.

Here’s a brief rundown of what I’ve gone through with this psycho.

I bought my domain name a while back. I’ve invested a lot of time in it. She had the domain name before I did, yet let it expire 6 or 7 months before I bought it up. She wanted to buy it back, and at first I was willing to offer it for sale. After I looked into things some more, she seemed really shady and I wanted nothing to do with her. Here’s my first set of interactions with her:

My conversation with Dawn is below, in reverse chronological order.

My website is http://www.hippiediva.com. Nowhere on the published site is there an auto-complete mailer, I certainly do not know you, nor did you design my website. The woman whose information is listed below has disrupted both of our lives, and somehow used your IP address and email account to send me pretentious emails.

This will be the last email you receive from me, lest you choose to correspond further.

Crystal McDonald

From: Dawn Wright-Olivares [mailto:dwo222@hotmail.com]
Sent: Sunday, July 20, 2008 5:23 PM
To: Crystal McDonald
Subject: RE: From The Website…

I find it interesting extremely rude that you expect ANYTHING from me. I also find it interesting that the obvious amateur who designed your site has no clue how it works.

In just 48 hours you made me an offer then rescinded the offer. Then, you make a veiled accusation and a demand of me. Who the hell do you think you are? I should publish this. Maybe I will.

Here’s my “guess” – the person who’s email address is showing up in the “from” field – is probably who designed the site?? She had an autocomplete throw her address into the field when she made the page (in front page or the like) and now – anyone who writes to you from your website – looks as if it came from her.??

I owe you less than nothing – never mind an explanation -but like an idiot – I believe in women helping other women. Obviously only ONE of us thinks that way.

Good bye Crystal. May you reap what you sow.

Take Care, D

Dawn Wright-Olivares
US contact: 203-426-7912 (Leave Message)
Email: dwo222@hotmail.com
URL: http://www.FemmeNet.com

From: crystal@hippiediva.com
To: dwo222@hotmail.com
Subject: FW: From The Website…
Date: Sun, 20 Jul 2008 17:05:49 -0800

I am talking about *this* email. The owner of this email account was not pleased receiving correspondence about this issue, especially considering this email originated from her account.

Sent: Saturday, July 19, 2008 6:38 PM
To: crystal@hippiediva.com
Subject: From The Website…

Crystal…my name is Dawn and I am BEGGING you for my domain name back! I owned this name and didn’t realize it expired. I have built an entire brand of myself – for myself – for 3 years around hippiediva. My aim name is hippiediva222. My gather name is http://hippiediva.gather.com – the list goes on. I have been travelling for a year around the world and was unaware that the name expired. PLEASE…is there anything I can do to convince you to sell it to me? I am HAPPY to work with you to help get whatever you’d like to get out there. I own software that I’m sure can help as well – however … I’ve been hippiediva for a LONG time now and I REALLY need this domain to complete what I’m doing.

From: Crystal McDonald [mailto:crystal@hippiediva.com]
Sent: Sunday, July 20, 2008 5:01 PM
To: ‘Dawn Wright-Olivares’
Subject: RE: HippieDiva.com

I am, however, curious as to how you sent your last email from someone else’s email address. The owner of that account would like to know how you accessed her account as well. I feel that we deserve an explanation.

From: Dawn Wright-Olivares [mailto:dwo222@hotmail.com]
Sent: Sunday, July 20, 2008 4:59 PM
To: Crystal McDonald
Subject: RE: HippieDiva.com

Wonderful – thank you. I wish you the best.

From: crystal@hippiediva.com
To: dwo222@hotmail.com
Subject: RE: HippieDiva.com
Date: Sun, 20 Jul 2008 12:20:42 -0800

After further consideration, “hippiediva.com” is NOT for sale.

Time went by, and I figured that I wouldn’t hear from her and life would be good.

Apparently she’s writing memoirs, and thinks I give a shit about reading them as she’s included me in her “memoirs update” email list. One email, fine. Whatever. Two, ok, I’m annoyed. Three, four, or more, well, that’s bullshit. I told her I wanted off her list. She wrote back.

From: Dawn Wright-Olivares [mailto:dwo222@hotmail.com]
Sent: Saturday, November 22, 2008 1:29 AM
To: HippieDiva.com
Subject: RE: Resending: Hippie Diva Memoirs: Chapter 3

Hello Miss Crystal. As I see, you are just as nasty and unhappy a person as you were the last time we spoke. I will be publishing your ugliness (via your email – through my blog) just so that everyone knows exactly who you are.


The ORIGIONAL HippieDiva

Take Care, D

Dawn Wright-Olivares
US contact: 203-426-7912 (Leave Message)
Email: dwo222@hotmail.com
URL: http://www.FemmeNet.com
From: crystal@hippiediva.com
To: dwo222@hotmail.com
Subject: RE: Resending: Hippie Diva Memoirs: Chapter 3
Date: Sat, 22 Nov 2008 00:56:48 -0900
You and I have no business with each other. Remove me from your mailings list. I do not want any further interaction with you.

Psycho. What part of “leave me alone” do you not understand? Is her life this lonely that she has to keep bothering me? If so, then that’s just pathetic.

So there, that’s the back story behind my last post about idiots trying to peddle their shit to me. Perhaps you can see why I don’t want it.


Why do I encounter so many of them? It’s frustrating, to be sure.

What’s more frustrating is when they think I give a damn about them.

I get that we all have grand thoughts of self-importance. How arrogant indeed to expect others to agree with those thoughts though. If you’re here, reading the random shit that comes pouring out of my head, it’s by your own choosing. If you don’t like what you read, stop coming back. If I wanted to know your random bullshit thoughts, I’d seek them out. Don’t peddle your crap to me. I don’t want it.

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