Tornados and Superheroism.
To Whom It May Concern:
Here’s the story, lest I appear to have some undeserved mystique of being aloof. I’ve been sick all my life, in varying degrees. I’ve seen a hundred doctors, but no one could figure out anything plausible. They medicated me because they didn’t know what else to do, and more often than not, they didn’t care. I have often suspected I walk around carrying some cosmic stamp on my forehead reading, “The Hippocratic Oath does not apply to me; do as thou wilt”.
I was in San Francisco for four years, and for the first time in my stateless life, felt like I belonged somewhere. Over the course of that four years, I became sicker and sicker. I had to go on Disability, eventually quit my job, and pare my life down so dramatically that I eventually became an invalid, unable to go out to even buy groceries. It goes without saying that I fell into a deep depression. I was alone most of the time, debilitated by crippling migraine sickness, chronic pain and a newly-developed case of agoraphobia. I couldn’t take advantage of the myriad opportunities that came my way. I tried repeatedly to make a go of things, but my body would not cooperate. After nearly fifty trips to the Emergency Room in two years, after trying everything I could think of to make things better for myself, and after hundreds of thousands of attempts to rationalize and discipline myself out of it, I finally called my mother and said, “I can’t do this on my own anymore; I need help.”
She flew me to Texas the next day.
Being here has been strange. Although my parents have lived here for fifteen years, I never did, and I have long harbored trepidation about coming for any extended period of time. Life is mysterious, however, and in Austin, I finally found a doctor who makes sense and is confident she can help me.
I have been through one battery of medical tests after another, and I have, at long last, been diagnosed as having severe adrenal exhaustion. I’m still undergoing tests, but the concensus seems to be that I have Addison’s Disease. It’s what John F. Kennedy had. I’m not superstitious, but I have no intention of going to Dallas any time soon. (That’s a bad joke for you fellow history nerds out there.)
What this condition does, basically, is saddle me with an inability to handle all manner of stresses. I have known for a long time that I can’t handle stress, but I didn’t understand why. I thought it was psychological, but what I have since come to believe is that psychology is a primitive and misguided attempt to understand what is chemically instigated. I can’t handle stress because I don’t have the right hormonal profile to handle stress. My body perceives almost every little thing as a threat and puts me in Fight or Flight mode without reasonable provocation. My adrenal glands are pretty much destroyed. They don’t produce the cortisol that they should – the hormone that soothes us in stressful situations.
It’s estimated that 80% of Americans suffer some degree of adrenal fatigue. We’re living too much too fast, and we humans haven’t evolved as quickly as our lifestyles have. I don’t think I was ever operating with a complete bill of health to begin with, but my life has been a particularly stressful one. I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say it has been a study in high stress situations.
So, long story longer, I have moved to my parents’ house in Texas for the time being, where I can rest and get the help I need. I’m on an inflated regimen of hormones and supplements, and a severely restricted diet (food allergies stress out the adrenals), but so far, I haven’t seen much of a difference.
I tried to hide this for a number of years, but now that I have a diagnosis, I have no need to hide it – I’m confined to bed most of the time. I started making self-portraits because it was something I could do in the confines of my little apartment, something I could still do even though I was sick.
These pictures are the life I have in my head, because I don’t have much of one in reality anymore. I’ve had to curtail my life radically. I’ve always been an emotional person, and I’m having to learn not to be – to set my emotional limits in stone and refuse all attempts by the world to raze them. It’s scary sometimes, because I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to return to a life where I can think and feel like a normal person. (I don’t know if I ever did, but it was closer to normal than I am now.) Because of the nature of the illness, however, I can’t allow myself the luxury of worrying about the future – or anything, really.
So I live in my head, and I pull things out of my ridiculously extensive closet (other people channel their emotional troubles into substance abuse; I buy shoes), and I set up the camera and take silly pictures of myself, wrapped in some sort of glory for which I once thought I was destined, but now I realize I probably won’t ever attain.
And I play games with myself to keep my mind occupied and out of trouble; I count calories. I do bedside pushups and see how much muscle I can build as an invalid. I pull Diet Cherry Chocolate Dr. Peppers out of my mini-fridge and see how many I can drink and still keep my teeth white. It’s absurd, but it’s my life.
I laugh at it. I’ve always enjoyed dark humor. Even as circumscribed as my life has become, it’s better now than it’s ever been because I know (and everyone around me knows) what’s wrong with me, and I don’t have to feel guilty about it anymore. The bloodtests don’t lie.
So . . . it’s wonderful to have the comments and the compliments and the well-wishes. We’re strangers, but we’re all artists and you are people for whom I have respect and admiration. Thanks for taking the time to look at my work and write something kind. It means a lot to me.
Gotta shoot some more silly pictures,
Case.
Juilee Pryor
honey with all that going on and the work you still manage to make ….I’m blown right away…... personally I think you have ‘fallen angel syndrome’..... get a copy of Wim Wenders movie…. Wings of Desire out and watch it…. its all about angels who fall to earth and then find it really hard….... and you are a sure starter for being an angel that fell and landed to hard…... good luck with it all…..your a little tiny 5 foot shining star
caseycastille
Thanks, Julie! I love Wim Wenders, and I have been meaning to see Wings of Desire since it came out, but for some reason, I just haven’t. Maybe the time is right.
Heaven was a piece of cake – what in the hell are you humans doing down here that makes it so complex?! ; )
This is an awesome message. Thank you for it!
kathleen
you are one of my heros and greatest inspirations and have been since long before you share this sensitive tail… I don’t want to sound insincere but living in your head is probably a lot safer than outside it anyway…. if you get my meaning and I feel I can identify with some of what you have said from a different perspective here… if you look at my folio it’s mostly self portraits too, and sometimes the more I do them the more insecure I feel about doing them, but can’t bring myself to do much else, lack resources too…
I LOVe your pictures, they are unique and always quirky and bold and feminine… glad you can be here if that is only a purely selfish thought… :-) I hope you stay on top of it all and rise!
caseycastille replied
Thanks, Kathleen – consider me a fan of your work as well. I know exactly what you mean about sometimes feeling insecure about doing self-portraits. It’s the same way I used to feel when I was performing with my band; “isn’t everybody sick of looking at me?” People still look and still enjoy, though, and for that, I feel blessed. Fortunately no one ever seems to get as sick of me as I get of myself! : )
(And add to that, don’t ever let any such insecurity stop you from making self-portraits. Yours are great. I think the most interesting subject a person can tackle is him- or herself. Who better to plumb the depths of our personalities than ourselves? Besides – we work cheap!)
David Harris
you have shown such courage and strngh of spirit! Some might have given up and taken the easy way out! you are a fighter and an inspiration to all of us. It’s when you read a story like your that you have to look at your own life and say, things are not too bad actually! Stop moaning about the small things and make the most of what life has dealt you! You have made me stop and think and out my life into perspective!
I am a great believer in possitive thinking so I am sending possitive thoughts to you Casey.
Be strong and god bless!
caseycastille replied
Thank you so much, David. This is especially nice to read because I feel like such a whiner most of the time. I think about other people having cancer or losing limbs and I think my problems are miniscule by comparison. We all have our challenges.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m not always noble. I wish I could be, but sometimes, like recently, I get down and have my own pity parties. Fortunately, it never takes me too long to snap out of it and see things in perspective myself.
I am a great believer in positive thinking, too, so I accept your positive thoughts and send them back, magnified! : )
Cheers,
case.
Christina Norwood
Hi Casey. As a transexual woman, and the founder of the group Self as Other, I’ve got a pretty good sense of where the urge to portray oneself in a certain light often comes from (of course, I can’t talk for the fellow self-portraitists in my group, but I have my suspicions). Your work is totally charming, and that is, of course, a reflection of the maker. So, be strong, and know that your work shines forth, and you with it.
caseycastille replied
I have always felt a kinship with transexuals. I have had a number of transexual friends since I was a young teenager. I’ve never really identified as a woman or a man – just as me – and nothing causes me greater frustration than being forced into some box because other people think I should be. I have a lot of respect for anyone who owns who they are and lives their life in accord with themselves, everyone else’s opinion bedamned. It takes a lot of strength to do so, but if we aren’t true to ourselves, we really have nothing.
Thanks very much for your words, and for tipping me off to the Self as Other group. I’ll have to check it out – totally up my alley!
Best,
case.
Julie Langford
Wow Casey, I had no idea that you were even ill. I have to say how remarkably well you have hidden this for all this time, however, I am so glad that you have decided to let it out, and allow friends and people here who know you and your work to see this little piece of you.
You truly are a pure person to be able to open up your life like this, to bare all to everyone around you – it takes guts and lots of courage to do something like that!
I sincerely hope that letting this out will help you, and that your journey forward will now, at least maybe be a little easier with people around you at home and here where you display your artistic flair to share things with you.
I totally salute you – I have always admired your work, and now that you have opened up like this, your own self, is even more apparent in what you do, what you create, and what you inspire.
caseycastille replied
Thank you so much, Julie! Honestly, receiving my diagnosis was so liberating. It has really freed me from so many self-imposed pressures. I know now that I’m limited in ways, and I’m learning how to work within those limitations. Odd, perhaps, that accepting limits can be liberating, but it has been.
Thank you so much for your message – it’s long been evident to me, even perceiving through this limited medium, that you have a wonderful spirit!
Cheers,
case.
MzSardonicus
I too have been in a deep depression for about 14 years. I’ve even been hospitalized two or three times. So I know what it’s like to be sick and see no relief in site.
We have a lot in common. I used to be a pretty talented singer in rock bands around the New York scene and have led a tumultuous life. I won’t bore you with the details either. I just wanted to lend my support and tell you to hang in there.
You’re an exquisitely beautiful woman with great talent and imagination (Love the Robert Plant and Jimmy Page photo you shot) and the higher powers have great things in store for you, I’m sure.
Thank you for opening up like this, it is inspiring and has helped me a great deal.
caseycastille replied
Yep. You get it. I definitely appreciate the support from someone who understands! Art and depression go hand-in-hand. I don’t think there’s any mysticism there; it’s chemical. Chemical and inevitable!
Are you still singing?
Thank you so much – trust me – I can always use a “hang in there”! It’s nice to be able to think that I’ve been inspiring to anyone; I feel so bogged down in my own misery sometimes that I couldn’t possibly help anyone else, but knowing that I’ve done any small thing to help another person lifts me up.
You hang in there, too. I’m with ya.
c.
Shanina Conway
Casey, it must be such a relief to finally have a diagnosis, a name to put on your illness.
There’s nothing worse then going from Doctor to Doctor and being subjected to… it’s all in your head or becoming a human guinea pig!
At least now you have a direction, and a way of managing this disease.
hugs
Shanina
caseycastille replied
Thanks, Shanina -
Truly – I have been told by doctors that it was “all in my head”, and after a time, I worried that it was. That’s why I felt so guilty all the time; I felt like I certainly must be a hypochondriac – who could have all these problems and keep sliding through the cracks in the medical community? It’s a huge relief to see the numbers and connect the dots. When I was first presented with the symptoms and presentations of Addison’s, my jaw was on the floor. It was me. I could win a Grammy and it wouldn’t give me the same validation that gave me.
Long way around to agreeing with you and saying thanks. : )
Best,
case.
billyboy
Case, although much of your story is no news to me, the way you`ve laid it down for the world to see I find awesomely admirable and it only reinforces my opinion that you are one of the most amazing people I know, not only for your imagination and artistic talent, but for your resiliance and courage. Where most people suffering over years the way you have would have succumed to it, you found a way of turning your situation into artistic expression. It doesn`t matter that under other circumstances you might be out there shooting forest fires or sea rescue… the art that you produce is sensational and few of us probably realized there was anything wrong.
You should be so proud of your strong character that has allowed you adapt to an agressively bad situation and turn it into such stunning and positive work for everyone who sees it to enjoy. And I hope that now you know what`s been feeding on you and your soul, you can go from strength to strength and feed off of IT so you can totally rise above it and be cured. That may be further down the line, but you`ve proved you have the will to nail it… I believe it`s only a question of time. And there`s so many of us here behind you 100%!
Thanks for letting us into your world and sharing your imagination with us!
Hugs to you, BB
caseycastille replied
You are so awesome. You always make me smile. Thank you.
I really hope I have the opportunity to meet you in person sometime.
Hugs back,
c.
BLYTHART
I’m so sorry to hear of your health problems Casey. You project such a lively healthy image I’d never have known what you are going through. You’re a great girl, so do get better soon so we can see more of your cool pictures. All the very best from Dave.
caseycastille replied
Thank you very kindly, Dave. Much obliged.
And I swear to you, I don’t smoke! : )
SnowDog
Casey I have admired your work on RB aswell as other sites where I first came across your images.
This One
I think I saw on PhotoShop Creative Magazine’s site.
PyeWacket! and Avast! have been in my favs since I first joined RB
All I see when I look at your work is an artist with amazing talent and imagination.
Now that I know a little more about you and your health problems I am even more amazed!!!
You may not smoke but your pictures do!!!
Have you been in Advanced PhotoShop yet?
Later
Randy
Geoff Coleman...
I didn’t know anything about you before I read this searingly personal piece, except that you created some of the most extraordinarily creative and original art I’ve seen (hence having you on my Watchlist). And on top of that you look so beautiful I just thought “Shit, some people have it all – creativity, beauty, intelligence” envy, envy. And now I have to add to that list resilience, a sense of irony and humility, and extraordinary courage. I am so sorry you have had such an arduous journey, and when all is said and done and the platitudes like “what doesn’t kill you makes you strong” lie like dead cockroaches on the floor of one’s psyche I just wish you all the best, and would like to thank you for being so generous and in the process helping make some of we fellow-sufferers feel less alone.
BLYTHART
Now I know you don’t smoke I shall proclaim you as a living goddess :))
Seriously, you have made us all so happy with your wonderful pictures and now we find out you are also a strong personality who has been bravely fighting illness without letting it prevent you from being creative … you are a lovely person Casey and I am sure everyone agrees with me.
Michael D'Andr...
I haven’t been around RB much, but was hoping things were getting better for you. At least you now know what’s wrong. I guess that’s a bitter sweet ending to all of your pain. I hope you get better soon!
JanG
Hi Casey, Just will say you are brave and there is strength in your persistence. Your art is a wonderful gift to all of us and most of all to yourself. Having been where you are with the adrenal stress and fatigue, I sympathize. It is scary and exhausting. I went through 4 years of this and to give you some hope, did recover and move on with life. I moved from the regular to the alternative medicine world as I was tired of being told it was all in my head. The hormones and supplements, and diet management, along with good friends, yoga, a wonderful therapist, and most of all a knowledgeable naturopath and a lot of time and patience did finally change things. But yes, it is a slow process. Feel free to write me if I can be of support or just listen at any time. I will also say that since that time, I have met several women in their 30’s and 40’s who have gone through this, so we have wondered if there ought to be some study done in the womens’ health realm that might address the prevalence. Thinking of you, Jan
clarkey
You having written a very moving story of pain, frustration, depression, and discovery followed by liveration. I knew, from your PF that you weren’t well, but, not why – thank you for your willingness to share your story.
While nothing like yours I have a severe, life-long medical problem (which can kill me without proper care and treatment) that can’t be cured, only mnaged. It’s caused me many problems through the years and will contiue to do so, but, the only thing I can do is coipe with it and continue. In 1999, it downed on me how old I was and how long I had had this problem and how much longer I was likely to have it – for the rest of my life. That knowledge, combined with another large problem, caused me to be become depressed. Only problem was, I didn’t know I was dpressed for the next 3.5 years.
The discovery that I was depressed was liberating – I then “knew” why I had been feeling so rotten for so long. Even now, though, it still sneaks up on me and it can take weeks to realize it, then I can consciously fight it. I refuse to take any sort of medicine for it as I take enough pills, etc., just to stay alive, let alone to deal with other medical problems.
That you have been able to continue your “fight” for diagnosis and your fight to live is testament to your very strong willpower. That you produce some spectacular art and beat your depression is nothing short of fabulous.
You have my sincerest wishes for an improved life and, eventually, a cure in the not-too distant future. Hang in there, and stay tough. Your positive attitude gives me hope that, maybe in my lifetime, a “cure” will be found for my problem, one that is shared by milllions.
Christina Lorenz
Hi Casey,
I recently added you to my watch list because I adore your work. When you said you were unwell it peaked my interest as well, as I too have been sick for a very long time. It’s hard being a young female artist that wants to break out, but her body keeps on failing her on so many levels.
I relate to your style and your situation so much. You are an inspiration for me. It’s good to know that there are other young artists out there like me, trying to keep on doing what they love despite God handing them a sh*t pie.
Keep up the awesome work. Can’t wait to see what you come up with next.
jgolder
Casey
I can’t say I feel your pain or anything that you may be going through, but t know sucks to be ill period, with or without a diagnosis. I just wanted to say thanks for sharing your story and thanks for sharing your talents as an artist. I’m not much for words unfortunately so thanks again, and take care. Looking forward to more of your work.