So there's this neurological psychological something-ogical thing I've dealt with since I was a teenager.
Until recently, no one seemed to know much about it, and when I say no one, I mean researchers (OHSU), shrinks, counselors, doctors, audiologists--no one.
It's gotten more attention lately from a few celebrities and the New York Times, but no one seems to know what causes it or how to treat it. You can see, if you watch the Kelly Ripa video, how the ABC News interviewer goes from disbelief, to chuckling, to digust as Kelly tries to explain.
So the few of us that have it, have to deal with it pretty much on our own.
That sucks. Big time sucks. It's not a problem on the level of the big diseases, to be sure, but it's a daily quality of life thing. A daily challenge to sanity and equilibrium and general well-being. It makes me stay home when I want to go out. It makes me cranky and short-tempered when I want to be laid-back and relaxed.
My own shrink has thrown in the towel.
I mention it rarely, because when I do, I'm faced with disbelief or incomprehension.
How can it be that bad?
Suck it up.
Anyway, this is a first step for me.
I plan to keep looking and talking and hoping.
Voicelessness and despair aside--snarky I know--it's been an insanely busy week. Last Thursday I had the pleasure of ushering with a g...
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