Mystery

I am currently trying to solve a mystery.

Years ago, I was fit and strong. I worked as a deckhand and had plans to move to Florida for the winter season to gain experience, planning to go to a merchant mariner's college in order to become an ore boat captain. This dream conflicted with my other dream of attending university in Scotland, but I enjoyed the fresh air and the days at sea more than any other job I'd held before.

Then I met my birthmother's stepfather. This was the first time that I had any contact with anyone in my birth family. He asked if there had been any problems with my muscles over the years; being one of the strongest people I've known, I scoffed at the very idea! My muscles, my strength, and my uncanny flexibility had been my pride and joy - the source of my personality and its driving force.

He told me that my birthmother, and indeed most of my birthfamily, had myotonic muscular dystrophy. It generally came on in the person's mid-to-late 20's, and from there was unstoppable, no matter how often the person with the disease worked out. Over the years I'd had certain health problems but never thought they might be related to each other - and it turned out that every one of them was a symptom of muscular dystrophy.

I walked the streets that evening in a daze. It took a few more years before I was tested, and I was the only person in the entire family who did not have it. However, this left the mystery of what was wrong with me, as I had further complications. For example, my hips and shoulders continually started dislocating, which was incredibly painful and kept me from some of my favourite activities, such as weightlifting and bellydancing.

I discovered a disease called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which seems to explain many of my difficulties. It is a connective tissue disorder with frequent dislocation/subluxation of the joints, marked by extreme flexibility, velvety skin, and occasionally skin that stretches. Because I was very thin and strong for most of my life, it would not have been noticable when I was young, but as I age and continue to develop problems, the loss of muscle mass means that I am losing anything that holds my bones and joints together.

Now, years later, my birth mother has three months to live, as my brother told me a few days ago. I have gained weight and lost muscle definition, missed so many opportunities with bellydance and with other activities I loved. Aside from being broke, these issues have kept me from everything I want to do - it is difficult to work out when it is almost impossible to walk because of hip subluxation.

All I know is that I hope this is the answer to the mystery that has kept me somewhat disabled for several years. I would like to return to the things I love, and to find out the reason for these problems. I know it took my father years to find a doctor who would diagnose him with Lyme's Disease; I only hope my wait will not be as long.

Just...wow

Beyond all expectation, I have landed a summer job on the gorgeous island of Islay - along with affordable accommodation, which is nearly unheard of as Islay books up through October. Even more fascinating, I will be working at the Gaelic college! Finally a job in a place I want to be, doing something I believe in. :D The only real issue is that it doesn't pay very highly, but that is all right as it will give me something wonderful to put on my resume, and the chance to live somewhere in Scotland that is not Glasgow, which may be the secret to my unhappiness here. Perhaps it is not the country, but the particular location. Of course there is always a possibility that I will feel the same on Islay but I have visited the island several times and notice that the moment I return to Glasgow I feel my teeth set on edge.

This weekend was marvelous, as all weekends on Islay are. Bountiful whisky and wine, more good food than anyone could possibly eat, stunning sunsets, seals basking, and good times with good friends. I sat atop a cliff overlooking Ireland and sang Celtic songs while the boys leaped from rock to rock. They reported that they found a cave next to the sea that had been graffitied. One message said: John and Paula Forever, 2004. Further down the cave: John and Paula Soulmates 2009. Then further along a white cross painted next to the message: Please save Paula for me. This combination of wild and windswept beaches while lying in deep heather near the sea, melancholy and romance, cameraderie and barbecues that the other villagers attend simply because they saw the smoke (and bring along whisky from the local distillery) - how could you not love a place like that?

And now is my chance to live it, if only for a brief time. I hope that it will continue to weave its magic, as it has done for me every time I have visited this wonderful island.

Things That Are Not Actually Normal, but Seem Sort of Normal After Living in Glasgow For 2 Years

This is a post related to one published by The Rejectionist, who is awesome and you should read her stuff.

Things that Seem Sort of Normal (But Aren't Really) After Living in Glasgow for 2 Years:

Vomit on the pavement (sidewalk) in the morning.

Border collies that wait patiently for their owners outside stores.

Orange skin.

The sun is STILL UP when you go to bed.

Feet wet constantly. I really mean constantly.

Never being quite warm enough.

The random guys who, for whatever reason, dress in a kilt and tam and have a collie dog.

If something is someone's fault, they will NOT admit it. Even with evidence.

Underhanded behaviour/backstabbing/two-facedness.

Buckfast.

Track suits as evening wear.

Alcohol on campus. Served by your professors.

Pound coins in order to use a shopping trolley.

Words like 'rubbish bin, knackered, mingin, greetin, etc'.

Stunningly beautiful landscapes that you will never have enough money to see.

Neds.

Awful wine.

The scenery and the whisky, along with the forced joviality and singalongs, are all for tourists.

Summertime

Summertime in Scotland is grey and rainy, so far. However, it has been nice and free.

I'm at a bit of a crossroads now. Do I stay here? Try to open a business? How long can I put up with working at £6 per hour data entry jobs? Are these jobs, and the expectation that I should be very thankful I have even those, worth staying in the country for?

This weekend I am going away with some friends on a trip to Islay, a beautiful island off the coast. Whenever I am there, I feel my spirits lifted and my mood improve. However, I frequently wonder if I truly need to be somewhere warm, with sunny days and warm tropical breezes. There was a reason I stayed in Hawai'i as long as I did - and only left because I wanted to live in Scotland as much as I did. Things change, but it is very difficult for me to give up the dream of living here. It has not turned out to be what I had hoped, but in the end, it's still *Scotland*. Plus, I have made some good friends here.

I have also applied, once again, for a PhD. We shall see what comes of that. There are a great many things I would like to do in life, but I am uncertain where to go from here or even where to begin. Magic 8 ball?