August 24, 2012
I haven’t posted in a while because now I have cancer, lupus, and rheumatoid arthritis and also for a few days in a row I had several heart attacks each day. Either I have all that, or I’m finally succumbing to the stress that seems to constantly swirl around me in a bit of a hysterical mocking fashion. You decide. Remember the other day when I said that I was just feeling exhausted? Well the ‘feeling exhausted’ morphed from a mild feeling of being tired to a full on ninja type assault. My body just started screaming, “Mutha, you ain’t listening to me!” One morning, I woke up and was convinced that little darling was going to get hit by a car that day, or be in some fatal accident. Another night, I had visions of big darling bleeding to death in a pool. Not just fleeting visions or thoughts….but intense panic attack type thoughts that would.not.go.away. Only those with deceased loved ones will get this last one…but I kept getting what I will coin the “corner of your eye” syndrome. For those of you lucky bastards who still have all your eggs in one basket, this is the phenomenon in which you repeatedly catch glimpses of something out of your peripheral vision, and you think it’s the deceased person. So yeah, I’m pretty sure this all means I am indeed going psycho. No, I am not currently in therapy, because I sort of think I am the head therapist by now. Just like I’m an internet doctor. I don’t need to pay somebody to tell me that my stress levels are reaching “We about to shut this bitch down mode. Ya hurd?” I can’t even tell you what I’m stressed about, to be honest. Back to school stuff, big darling’s illness and hallucinations, money, how the hell I’m going to do all this with a full time job, and a few other incidents with the people who must not be named. I think the stuff with the people who must not be named is probably a large part of it. But I can’t talk about that, because they are the people who must not be named. All I can say about the people who must not be named is that they are indeed some fucked up motherfuckers.
So, back to my diagnosis. I’m so tired and not feeling like myself, so I must have cancer. I keep getting these small little lumps that hurt when I press them on my knuckles, so I must have rheumatoid arthritis, too. Lupus, well, everyone has lupus. For a few days I had lots of heart palpitations and when I got in bed at night I had the sensation of actually feeling blood coursing through my too little veins, so I’m pretty sure those were mild heart attacks and I need stents. Of course I know I don’t have all this, and I hope the poor souls who actually do will not take offense at my shenanigans. So now that I am fully diagnosed, thankfully my treatment can begin. Only it really can’t, because little darling doesn’t start school until after Labor Day. So I can’t rest, relax and eat twix until then. I have to just do other things, like drink more beer, I guess. I don’t know. This is all just sucky to me, because I normally am a very high stamina person, high energy, good sleeper, good at bossing my body around, etc. Now I’m none of those things. Usually, I say to myself, “Self, shut the fuck up.” And now self shakes her sassy head and says, “No, you shut the fuck up, mutha. I’m about to hurt yo ass.”
I swear the minute I drop this little darling off at school, I will be headed straight to the R&R camp. I’m scheduling massages, acupuncture, manicures, haircuts and maybe even naked dancers. Who knows. In the meantime, I continue to wake up each morning to see if E Hollywood News is reporting that I’ve been rushed to the hospital apparently suffering from exhaustion.
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