Introduction:

I wrote this story to my best friend, to summarize most of my life in the shortest way I could. At the bottom (in pink) is her reply. This letter was written in March of 1999.

My Story

I am 3rd of 10 children in a fantastically rich in love, and faith, but always middle-income American family. The only thing we've always had is faith & love. You can imagine a family of 12+ (at one point, we had a guest, a cousin, and a foreign-exchange student living with us, for a total of 15). My family goes from 16 to 33 for the children, and my parents are 58 and 55. (I have two older sisters, and seven younger brothers). With a family that large, most of us kids don't have education through college, since financial ad was often a let-down but some do, but we are extremely intelligent. We typically always had some sort of assistance from our churches, like food on Thanksgiving, etc. We do know "good people".

My rags to riches to rags story goes like this: before kindergarten, I learned about faith from my parents, and grandfather, I started school like all kids, but was always "ahead of the curve"; on occasion, recommendations for skipping grades, but never did. I went to a public school for K, went to a Private Catholic school for 1-4, and then my mom took all of us kids (like 8 at the time) out of school and started home-school. We did that for my 5-7th grades, and then found a wonderful alternative school, where I finished High-School. During High School, when I found out financial _aid_ wasn't going to... I was actually sorta 'conned' into joining the Navy through the Nuclear Power Program, under the false-pretense, that I'd have a good shot at getting the Navy to sent me to college if I did well in that program. I figured even if not, I'd get the nuc-power training, and that sounded pretty cool for a 18-yr old.

Once in the navy, I was kicking-butt, and taking names, as the saying goes; I achieved the fastest advancement I'd ever heard of in ANY military career; I found out 51 weeks into the Navy that I'd passed the test to be E-5, and that 13 months to the day I'd be promoted. The second-fastest I'd ever heard was 16 months. (normal progression is more than 5 years before you are even eligible!). Anyhow, after the first phase of nuc-power, I was #1 in my class, and got a temporary job as assistant to the career counselor for a command that saw 5000 new people each year. My job there was to help the students interested in applying for officer accession programs, like ROTC, that would get them a college education, paid for by the Navy.

Of course, that was the original pretense of me joining the Navy, and here I had the job making everybody else's applications, of course I applied as well. Only after getting there, and sending in my application, did I find out that there are 20,000 applications every year, and 2000 are picked (10%), but out of that 2000, only FIFTY are picked from people in active duty; figure it this way "they already HAVE you". So, a lot of praying later, and with 1/4 of 1% chance, I GOT it. So, I was 19 weeks into the 26 week "POWER SCHOOL"; literally the most difficult curriculum in America, and they took me out and sent me to college. (I had a 3.69 GPA and was 22/620 people when I left).

So, with unbelievable odds against me, off to College; Madison Wisconsin, College of Engineering, aiming for an ECE (electrical computer engineering) degree, and then back to the Navy to either fly jets, or drive submarines. I was doing great for my first year, deans list, the whole nine-yards, and then as the saying goes "the roof caved in". On a routine training mission, 3 weeks on a submarine in the Bahamas (rough, I know), I got sick; seemed like a flu, but it didn't go away. I got a bit better; enough to get around, but after about 2 months, I got sick again, and this time, it lasted 3 weeks, so I started seeing doctors. After about NINE months, they told me I must have this new disease that nobody knows anything about, that they weren't even sure what to call, but called it by it's most distinct symptom: Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.

I have a fatique scale i use to show people what I feel like on a day-to-day basis; please look at it; it's very sobering. Here is a decent summary I found recently; read before asking questions, please read it.

I'm hoping that you've heard about it, and perhaps know somebody close that has it* so you have SOME idea what hell that means for a 21 year-old man that has been kicking-butt his entire life physically, emotionally, scholarly, and faithfully. MANY people commit suicide because of this ailment. So; what happened? I couldn't go to school, and although I missed an entire month of school the 3rd semester, I actually pulled like a 3.2 GPA, even though I missed all my classes, but haven't been able to so since than. Only through the Grace of God himself, I was released from my many years obligation to the Navy; scott-free, so I didn't have to deal with getting dragged around Navy hospitals or have them try to make me work when I can't.

*of course I'm not wishing somebody ELSE has it, just that if you've seen it, you'll understand so much better.

What did I do? at that point, I had a part-time job that I could still work, only because my boss would let me work only when I could; ie. skip mon, tue, wed, but work thu, fri, and next week, work mon wed thu, starting at noon or 2 pm (when ever I could drag my butt in). I didn't make enough to pay my rent and eat, but I had great credit which I dragged into the gutter, almost to the point of bankruptcy, but after about 3 years of almost literal hell on earth, I started getting enough on-the-side work (I do computer graphic design), that even though I could only work 8 hours/week, I could finally make more than my living expenses. Sooo; I borrowed $4000 from a family that is more than friends, they are like my second family, quite literally, paid off my useless credit cards, and worked out a payment schedule that I could pay off.

I got that paid off over the next 3-4 years, and my business was booming; again, only working 8-9 hours/week, but I was able to pull in gross receipt figures hovering near 6 figures, and near 1/2 that for my gross. I leased a beautiful car, got the computer hardware I really need to excel at my job, etc. I was "flying high", I thought "wow, my hell was worth it, this is pretty cool".

Then, about 18 months ago, I made a deal with a man in Chicago, who is a brilliant industrial designer; familiar with the Motorola StarTAC phone; you know, the itty bitty one, well HE did it, also the original Motorola flip phone; he is named on dozens and dozens of patents. Anyhow, he broke off from Motorola and started his own business, and it was doing well, and he asked me to move to Chicago and work with him. Then the roof caved in AGAIN; this time, because as soon as I did move to Chicago, he basically went on hiatus and didn't have any work for me. I had severely cut ties with most of my other clients, and was starting to get a client base in Chicago, but with very little income, and rather high monthly expenses, I was caught, once again, making WAY less than my cost of living.

This time it's not pretty: the really bummer is that I have a LOT of debt based on selling, or making arrangements for friends to buy computers at super super deals, but they haven't paid in full; to the tune of $25,000; when I was making $6000/month, I just floated their debts as a favor, and kept telling them, pay as SOON as you can. At the high-point, I personally had an AMEX platinum card, which I'd charge an AVERAGE of 12,000/month, and of course pay in full every month, then last Feb, the cards came crashing down. A business associate of mine, who also used my account, charged $16,000 in Jan, that he didn't have the cash to pay when it was due; partly his fault, partly because of late-paying clients. The short story is of course, I couldn't personally come up with that kind of money, I had to deal with MY $6000 from that month, which I just barely scraped together.

After 2 years of averaging 12k/ month on AMEX; highest month $28,500; more than the cost of my parent's first HOME, they were VERY happy with me until that FEB, when I had to tell them I just didn't have the money. There was literally nothing I could do, and because that account ended up in default, it automatically made two other accounts, that were totally up-to-date until then, in default as well, you know the drill "account due; payable in full", so suddenly my $6000 bill, which I had the money for, was something in the neighborhood of $30,000, and I wasn't making any real money $1000-1500/mo, maybe, but having to pay car expenses, etc, not to mention EAT.

Well, I tried everything I could to try to squeeze blood from stone, but this time, I can't avoid it, and it really hurts; you guessed it; Chapter 7. Talk about a low-blow; now for ten years, nobody will give me the time-of-day when it comes to credit--I was planning on buying a house within about 2 years (truly my only dream; sucks to have a dream shattered; especially when it was SO close); now I don't ever see that becoming a reality. Since my car is leased, it will take more than a miracle to keep it, even though I CAN pay the payments on it. They offered me a super deal on a loan, and the buyout is like $15,000. They already have the paperwork, I'm just waiting for the grim answer. (Let me tell you that if there was ONE material thing I've ever felt proud to have managed to get on my own is this car, it's the favorite thing I've ever had the pleasure to own, touch, ride in; my "baby"). Update; through a miracle, somehow the loan paperwork went through, and my car is actually in my name now.

Well, on to how I feel lately; virtually NO different from 9 years ago, and the only thing I can say is that I'm happy to mention that I've been able to stay off SSI, and earn my own keep, until other people took advantage of my generosity and put me under (in a big way). Oh; might mention; in the middle of that whole ordeal, fell in love with somebody, who pretended to love me until she found out about my condition, and then, rather than being honest, betrayed me with my best male friend; dated him in secret for more than a year, causing all kinds of grief. After that; not a whole lot of time for romance. I'm typically either at the computer TRYING to get some work done, or lying on a couch or in bed (14 hours/day). BTW, I STILL Love that woman, as a person, that's what unconditional love is, however I lost all respect for her, because of it, and after 15 months, we started talking again, but I can't really say we are good 'friends', just that I would STILL do anything that a rational person would do for somebody they love; think of a brother, that just bugs the crap out of you; you'll still go out of your way; that's love.

Now, doesn't that story cheer you up? Don't let it get you down; through the whole thing, my faith in my lord had grown stronger EVERY day, and I can't wait 'til his triumphant return. I find his works in people like YOU and it makes me very confident that he exists, and works wonders in everybody willing to open their hearts.

Well, I hope I didn't tell you too much, but now there isn't really anything left to say, really; all my skeletons in one letter, I guess. I feel confident in my new friend enough that I was able to spill my guts so to speak. I hope you can appreciate how wonderful a friend that makes you to ME.

I don't usually tell people my story, for myriad different reasons, but mostly I'm not looking for pity, and it's hard not to get it if you hear my story. I'm 100% happy every day, I have Jesus, life, and family and friends who love me, what else could I ever really need? I also don't want to make people worry, but of course wouldn't mind people praying about my condition either. The problem is that I've prayed about it tons, and pretty much already got my answer. It reminds me of a joke-story in a newspaper in Madison; "God Answers Crippled Boy's Prayer: Answer is 'No'".

The funny thing about that (fake) story is that trying to poke fun at the concept of prayer, they ended up using a fictitious story about a boy in a wheelchair who wanted to walk, but listen to this: in the story the 'quote' from the boy is "Well, at least I know the answer"; a wonderful Christian thought! He wasn't pissed off at God, he simply accepted God's answer. Unfortunately virtually nobody would have gotten that out of the story; the non-Christians would laugh at God because he 'doesn't do any good', and the Christians would typically just get irate at the people who wrote the story because it seemingly made fun of God.

I have some decent links to follow up on CFS; most doctors don't even believe it exists yet, and the vast majority of people; it's a real problem (that people refuse to believe in it). I want to make it clear that I am pretty amazingly functional for having this condition; most people would never even know; even my family and friends. I will hear things like "you look great today"; typically answer "I'm faking". Well, I always am happy, but honestly, I almost always hurt; it's something I'm just used to now. I still can "have fun" with my friends and family; go skiing, hiking, biking, camping, pretty much everything anybody else does, just that my recovery time is a LOT longer than yours. I sometimes think that's why God made me so patient; many people who haven't the patience I do have committed suicide because of CFS.

A bit part of my condition is sleep disorder; I can't sleep until I'm far more tired than the usual person, so I have to work with a bizarre schedule; sleep from 3am to 10-11am pretty typical. I don't mind too much; I love the peace at night, and it gives me the time to write my ministry pages, and any email. I also do my work on my laptop whenever and wherever I find the time, so I figure out how to deal.

The biggest problem for me is just dealing with friends; people who may sincerely care about me, but have NO idea what I'm dealing with will offer dozens of useless suggestions, of course assuming that I haven't tried it already, and not just being a friend, which is what I want them for. I'll get the "This person's cousin started a special diet and all her problems went away", sort of thing, and get periodical reminders of it, things like "you just need to get in a routine", or a thousand other things. I don't know if you have any clue what kind of feeling I'm talking about here. It is extremely frustrating, though.

What do I look for in a friend? Somebody who will for the most part ignore my condition, and just be my friend; Talk to me; deep, meaningful conversations, especially if it's about the bible, or it's concepts. Spend time with me, share their intimate details of their life, and look to me for advice, thoughts and feedback, even use my shoulder if they need to. I look for somebody who will actually answer my questions when I write them, not just 1/5 of them. So far, honestly the best friend I can think of is my newest friend, I can only hope it stays that way.

I have one friend, Bonnie, who I think I've mentioned, who is my 'night(ess) in shining armor' when it comes to it; she has actually stood up for me and my condition when I wasn't around, and people will just make any comment about it, saying that it's bogus, or whatever. She seems to be the one person I've met who understands that I'm no LESSOR a person because of it, and that quite to the contrary, because everything I do is harder for me than anybody around me, yet I do these things anyhow, often times out of love and respect for my friends, the very people who are dogging me to start with.

Ouch, well, that was a kinda overwhelming letter; especially the last paragraph. I felt myself almost tearing up when I wrote about Bonnie; she's such a wonderful person, I so want to bring her to the light, I've been looking for a good opening for years and years. She started opening up and I started a bit of witnessing to her a while back, showed her some phrases from my NIV study bible, which POINTS OUT that women are the equal of men; something that people who are 'afraid' of the Bible and Christianity often have the misconception that the bible and therefore Christianity is all about the man, and the woman means nothing.

I was about to end my letter when I read the last phrase, and out-of-context it didn't look so good (grin). Well, I believe I know my newest true friend well enough that I haven't scared her off, and I hope you're more enlightened by my story than bummed. it's tough to share with somebody at first, but I find that the few people I have been able to actually share with, it's made our friendship stronger than ever. God Bless you for being there for me to share!

Andrew.

Wed March 17th 1999 (Reply to 'My Story')
Andrew,

I think you know this or I don't think you would have shared your story with me, but I want to say it anyways. I care, and love you Andrew, and NOTHING (especially what you shared with me in this letter) could ever change that. If anything sharing this with me will help me be better friend and maybe have more insight to who you are and what you are going through. I think you are an amazing man. I have learned so much from you in such a short time. I only hope I can be somewhat close to as good of friend to you as you are to me (and others).

After reading your so called "My Story", being a women and little on the emotional side (sometimes) as I read your words tears began pouring down my face. NOTE: This is not a bad thing. Crying is actually a good thing for me. Shindler's List was on television the other night and although I have seen it a few times the water works came. So please don't take my response the wrong way. It hurt me to see the pain that you have been through and that you are going through as I write you this letter now. So I cried for a little while and then began to pray (both regularly and in the Holy Spirit). I also rejoiced that God has given you such a heart for Him that through this adversity you are able to say believe in His love and say things like "I'm 100% happy every day, I have Jesus, life, and family and friends who love me, what else could I ever really need? "

Please don't read any of this letter as pity, maybe just female emotional babble is more like it. I almost decided to find your phone number and call you, but I didn't know if I could handle it. I am sure someday we will converse with one another verbally, but I realized this was not the time. As always I am being completely honest with you and although I don't want you to take anything in this letter the wrong way, if I do say something in this letter that upsets you please tell me.

Then the intelectual side of me kicked in. Since I don't believe I know anyone with CFS I wanted to know more about it not to tell you about the next miracle cure they have but so I could at least know what it is and possibly be more sympathetic to your needs. So I got on the Internet and found a sight for Beginners CFS. I don't really think it helped much, but at least I realize that there are not a lot of answers out there on CFS.

Looking at what I wrote when you would not share your story with me, I must apologize. I never would have joked like that if I would have known how serious your story was you were not sharing with me. A part of me is overjoyed that you would place that much confidence and trust in me, another part of me is grieved that you had such a story to share.