The disappearing Oliver?

Sorry I haven’t posted in, well, a long time. My stats and page hits are slowly dwindling. Obviously, you get out of a blog what you put into it, and I haven’t been putting much into it lately.

As soon as I got here to the Rock, everything just kind of flew at me, and it’s been super busy. Plus, I’ve been spending most of my spare time with Rory, because goddammit we have been apart for long enough.

But things are going pretty well, overall. I love it here, I’ve made some friends, I’ve joined some organizations, had some fucking amazing conversations about every subject, etc. The academics are not as thrilling as I was hoping for them to be, but I’m sure it’ll be a lot better once I’m into more classes that really interest me. My developmental psychology class is great, so.

Anyways, yeah. Wanted to make a quick post while I have the time to.

There is no good title for this post.

I looked up some information on treatments for the disorder I have after I had a conversation about it. Just to read up a bit, I guess. I’ve never considered having treatments but I was thinking that maybe I could, some day. I qualify for long-term treatment, my flares are frequent and severe enough.

But anyway.

Was reading some stuff. Finally found what I was looking for, and:

The AWP for Cinryze is $2,437.50 per vial; at this benchmark monthly cost of therapy would range between $36,562 to $48,750 per patient.

I think I’m going to cry right now. I just. Can’t see that ever happening. Insurance won’t pay for it, and even if it did, it would probably only pay a couple thousand at most. It’s a routine therapy, you have to continue it for years.

I’m not a fucking millionaire.

This has been your way-too-personal illness post of the evening.

Good-fucking-night.

For some reason just randomly woke up.

So now I am reading about computer hacking/computer crime on Wikipedia.

(I am jealous of anyone with that much skill on a computer. I am not even going to lie.)

Lazy time.

We are, in fact, in Great Barrington.

We are in a hotel.

The hotel’s internet is pretty shit.

So I’m going to watch a movie and later crash out because moving in and orientation tomorrow!

Going to College: The Epic Saga: Pt. 4

All right, so, we are in Martinsburg, West Virginia!

Stopped here for the night to sleep. We’re about to get going again but I decided to get online for a while and check on stuff. (Glad I did, too, because I got another form that I need to have filled out sent to my email literally right after we left the house.)

Martinsburg is pretty close to Maryland, too, and Maryland is only like 10 miles across where we’re crossing, so we are closer than it sounds! Probably a 6-7 hour drive, really.

Will probably update when we get there.

Shutting down my computer.

Then packing up the car in an hour or two, once everything else is in place.

Going to college. As a Real Full Time student. It’s pretty huge, dude.

Will be on when we stop to sleep for the night, I suppose. It’s a pretty long drive (16+ hours) so that’s why we’re leaving today, so we can stop tonight and hopefully get to Great Barrington tomorrow night. Gotta be on campus at 9 am on Friday.

Just wanted to make a post before I left.

Meanwhile.

Leg pain is awful. I mean, really awful. Dr. Gregory House awful. Wish I had the Vicodin to go with it, though. Alas, the strongest pain med I have is naproxen, and I have probably taken enough that I am toeing the line of developing an ulcer. Probably shouldn’t have walked so much when I was already in a lot of pain.

On the Better Pain Scale, (scroll about halfway down to see what I’m talking about) although I do not have that face going for me, I am probably at a 6 or 7, if I’m walking or standing up. Probably 4-5 if I’m sitting or laying down.

However, I am used to bad pain. What I am not used to, though, is not being able to fake that it is not there. Basically, I am praying to whatever entity is out there that this pain cuts it the fuck out or at least doesn’t give me a limp before Friday, when I will be on campus as a Real Life Student for the first time. I do not want to meet other students and new administrators and teachers while I am limping around. I definitely do not want that to be my first impression. Looking awful later, all right. Cool. Everyone does sometimes. But from the very start…

“Hey there! I’m Oliver, I’m a student here now, and oh yeah, I’m disabled. This will probably be forever in your mind because I met you like this.”

Nope.jpg

Night of personal blogging and tweeting.

Woke up after sleeping for three hours, like always. The full impact of what happened earlier hit me, and now I can’t sleep again.

I’ve been debating two things for a few minutes.

1. Whether or not I should make this post.
2. What to call it.

I have now made a decision. I am making this post, because I need to get this out somehow. And all I know to do when I have overpowering emotions is blog about it, apparently. But I am temporarily shutting down Facebook sharing for it. Just, well, because. Also not categorizing/tagging because I don’t want it to show up in WordPress search. And you see the title.

Rory and I have been having problems for a while. And when I say having problems, I mean that he’s been being his usual self and I’ve been doing stupid shit.

And when I say he’s been being his usual self, I mean that he’s been dealing with depression.

And when I say I’ve been doing stupid shit, I mean breaking down because I can’t handle being close to and supporting people dealing with serious depression, breaking up with him twice in a week because of that, and confessing I’m still extremely in love with, flirting with, then making out with an ex when said ex is in a monogamous relationship anyway, and denying and then realizing that I am somewhat afraid of commitment and cannot accept that I can have a happy life with someone. (And those are only the major things. There is, in fact, more stupid shit.)

Extrapolating on some of the things I just said.

I have emotional baggage relating to being close to people with serious depression and even vaguely (by vaguely, I mean I will break down if it is even mentioned) suicidal. I don’t particularly want to write why this is true in a public blog post. Not even some of my friends know why, so obviously I don’t want everyone to. But it’s because of some things that happened with someone I dated a while back.

Not even going into the whole being in love with an ex and all. It’s extremely stupid and despite what we might feel for each other, acting on it… shouldn’t have happened. Unfortunately, I didn’t even realize that it wasn’t a good idea until after it did happen.

Rory said during a fight/argument/something with lots of angry words that I’m afraid of commitment. I scoffed and said that I wasn’t and it had nothing to do with what we’ve been going through anyway. I realized something later though: I am. I am, as a matter of fact, afraid of commitment. I have this idea in my head that all relationships will eventually either fail, or become dysfunctional and then fail, or become so boring that the people involved fall out of love. The thing is, though, I’ve had three serious relationships in my whole life. The one with Rory is so much more serious and has lasted so much longer than the other two. I am expecting it to fail. I am expecting it to become dysfunctional. And it has become dysfunctional, in a sense. But I never expected that we’d want to change that at all. I never expected for us to even try after that.

So I guess, if I actually do want it to work, I need time away. Or something. We’re maybe kind of broken up right now. To be honest I don’t know the state of our relationship because in the middle of talking about it, the major pain I’d been dealing with all day got even worse, and I just went to bed.

I don’t know how it will go after this. I don’t know how things are going to work out right now. All I know is that I’m kind of really miserable. Rory and I, could, eventually, be good for each other. I don’t know why I’ve been risking fucking it up.

I should be happy right now. I should be excited, because I’m going to college. I’m leaving today. And later, I’ll probably throw myself into everything and into getting the car packed and getting things together, and forget about the whole thing for a little while. But, right now, all I can do is remain miserable.

That is all. Sorry, followers, for all the feelings dumping.

Leaving tomorrow for Massachusetts.

I should be quite excited, but right now I’m a bit too upset/doped up on meds to be.

I’m upset for reasons I can’t really/don’t want to talk about here.

I am doped up on meds because today is a really bad pain day. Also I had a really bad panic attack last night and so I took Xanax and I don’t think it has worn off yet because I’m smaller than average and I took two so it’ll affect me longer than average. According to Google. Google is not necessarily a good source. But I’m feeling extremely mellow and I slept for 17 hours so I think that could be right or something. It’s not that I mind. I mean, it’s a very good thing that I’m not stressed out right now.

Liveblogging my health. No big deal or something.

I’m wearing the sweater (mentioned in previous post) anyway.

Because, well, fuck binary gender constructs. They suck, essentially. And I look good in this sweater.