The Naked Truth: Part 1

It has been a thousand years since I posted. Okay, oozing melodrama already, but it feels like a friggin long time! I have 198 beautiful, wonderful followers, and I appreciate you all so much for sticking with me even though I've been MIA. I have really truly missed you! I've been faithfully painting my nails every few days and I was even taking pictures of fun manis up until a short while ago (camera is dead, ohh the humanity!) but I just haven't had any extra oompf left in me for posting. This next bit is mostly for my benefit because writing my feelings and thoughts down feels like I'm giving them away. I think that's the writer in me :) I realized recently how much writing means to me. Journaling every night has been so therapeutic. However, journaling is also very intimate, and I think baring my troubles to the world might just help me face the reality that my future is up to me. Let me explain.

Few of you know that I have a very rare skin/autoimmune condition called Hidradenitis Suppurativa. It isn't something I share with just anyone. The specifics aren't interesting, but the simple truth is that it is extraordinarily painful. Indescribably painful. I can honestly say that I haven't had a pain free day since early 2010, maybe even before. I've probably had HS my whole life, but it made its appearance in 2006 and has gradually become worse and worse. I've seen countless doctors who are so intimidated by the severity of my condition that they tell me not to come back to see them. (I am totally not fishing for sympathy, please understand. And if you think that, you can get lost anyway. Seriously.)

Most days I try to sit very still and keep necessary objects close by. If my camera isn't right on my desk when I paint my nails, I don't make the effort to go get it, thus.. fewer pictures. =/ It makes me sad, but it's pivotal to maintain some semblance of comfort. Despite how morose all this sounds, I do pretty well! I make it to class twice a week for a few hours and I really, really hope to get a job soon. No job = money for polish. I can hardly bear to ask my parents for money to put gas in my car every few weeks (Thank the LORD for my sweet little Honda! 30 MPG!) much less for $10+ for the indies I keep eyeballing, those gorgeous bastards.

I initially started painting my nails daily because it was something I could do without moving too much. Plus, if I have to sit around and do nothing at least I can look fancy doing it! Because I can do so little, I don't have friends anymore. After a major falling out with friends I thought I had last year I've essentially been going this alone. I have my sweet boyfriend, and my family. I have a few girlfriends that I really would love to hang out with more often, but it's embarrassing to have to make up excuses to leave early, or to wear yoga pants year round because jeans hurt too much, or to skip alcohol because I can't take pain meds and drink, or to avoid hot days because sweating makes me sick. It's hard to not be normal around normal people. So, most of the time it's just easier to be by myself. This breeds a great deal of loneliness. It's easier for me to be alone, but I have the personality of ten people, or so I've been told :) I crave company. I'm happiest surrounded by people. So you can see where I struggle with being alone. Luckily I have some pretty sweet blogger friends- you know who you are! <3

There isn't a definitive point to this post, really. I'm just glad it's out there. Now you know a little more about me. This is the less fun portion of these posts... the next one? Scandalous.

Stay tuned :)

Rachael