That feels a wee bit better.
& @& ;% $# $@ #! #^ $# $# (*&;^ %$@( !!!!
Sorry it appears I still had some more frustration left.
I apologise in advance if this post is interrupted by random swearing or screams of anguish.
It's one of 'those' weeks. Usually I can find my happy place, but not today. I've tried, I have. I've done the deep breathing. I've tried my yoga. I've had my coffee and put on my soothing oils. And still my bad attitude persists.
Today is one of those days where I just want to sit in a corner and sob my heart out.
Today is one of the days I want to slap myself for being a pathetic woman.
"Oh my God, what has happened?", you ask. And to be honest I don't know. It's just crap. Yes Bob is messing with me, but that's nothing new. Really nothing extraordinary has happened, (well I guess there have been a few things but nothing that I really want to discuss on my blog, no offence peeps but some things need to stay off the WWW). But in reality crappiness is something that happens periodically in life and most times I can suck it up, do what needs to be done and move on. But this week......ugh. This week it's beyond me.
I think sometimes everything just builds up and up and up and one little innocuous thing is all it takes to send you over the emotional edge.
I looked down in the shower today and saw that yet again, there was a wookie residing in my drain. That was it. Stupid I know. I looked at that moist and manky pile of hair, soap suds and epithelial rejects covering the drain and my heart sank. It's not the first time this has happened. I lose so much hair each day I am surprised that I'm not bald. Every time I shower it's the same story. Every time I brush my hair I end up with my own personal shag pile rug at my feet. But today I just looked at it and thought, "I am so over this. Not even my hair is safe from the effects of Bob".
I know it' stupid to be so upset over such a little thing. I want to slap myself. In fact I may just go do that. I know there are many worse things going on in the world, but it was that finally straw. Can't I have just one part of my body free of the effects of this stupid disorder.
(Sorry told you it was likely to pop up again).
It comes in the long line of stupid stuff you lose when you get sick. Stuff that shouldn't matter but still does. It matters because it's little and stupid and shouldn't ever be an issue. It sits in there with all the other things that women my age don't normally have to deal with or consider. It sits in there with all the other choices and independence that have been stripped away one by one.
For example, I can't stand anything tight on my stomach. I have become elastic granny girl. A belt, normal waist band on a pair of jeans, stockings, all things that are now pretty much not an option any longer. High heels really are out too. I have balance problems one a flat floor in bare feet, so 4 inchs and tip toes are not really my friend. In many respects my Dorothy Shoes were an "in your face" to Bob. I am determined to wear them out at least once. I also know it's probably stupid I'm just choosing to ignore that fact for the moment. Add in that alcohol is a no no, standing in line is complex, that I am developing adult acne (I'm 30 freaking 7), that.........well I could go on and on and I'd want to slap myself again and the way I bruise I'll have a face like an aubergine and that's not a good look. Today petty is winning.
Sleep is eluding me this week. Last night I think I managed a max of 2 hrs straight. There was half an hour here, and half an hour there, but that's about it. Unfortunately, that can't sustain you physically or emotionally for long. I know I'll crash at some point and do the whole coma sleep routine. I only hope it is sooner rather than later.
Last night my feet decided to balloon up. Not unusual really, but this time they were up on the coffee table and still ballooning. In fact they were heading towards blimp territory, so much so that Mr Grumpy said "Wow you're having a swelling day. I've never seen them like that". And that's saying something as we are 4 years down the track now and little about my body should be surprising anyone. Even the rug rats had to come over and have a look. The youngest thought it'd be hilarious to write his name on my feet by pushing his finger. Sexy yellow letters surrounded by lovely shades of lilac and crimson. Even today they continue to tingle away and look puffy.
Me and the Bearded Lady, Freak Show here I come.
(photo from here)
Today's game is nausea. Unrelenting waves of heat and nausea. Some days I wish I could just vomit and get it over and done with. But no my body wont play that game today. Mind you, the days I don't want to vomit are usually the days I'm bent over my porcelain lover all day long. Even water is making me want to throw. Add in the spinning head and it's fun fun fun.
I know my bp is particularly low today (and yesterday) as is my heart rate. This seems to mess with my ability to cope dramatically. Bp below 90 systolic equals hair trigger for the water works. I'm sure there is some physiological link for this because it happens every time. Mind you sometimes a big sobbing cry is just what I need. It's like a valve to release the pressure that build and builds. Once it's over I feel lighter, tired too, but lighter. I say this as someone who hates to cry. For me it has always been equated with weakness thanks to a whole lot of family baggage that would take 5 therapists and a century or six on the couch to resolve. I don't judge others, just myself. I have this stupid idea that I should be able to cope no matter what. I'm working on that, but it does add another layer of stress to deal with on days like this. Maybe is a galaxy far far away I can get past that one.
I know most of this is transitory. Bob likes to spin the symptom wheel each day to see what he'll throw my way. A moment of excitement each morning to see what he'll dish out. One day nausea, the next day dizzy, the next day un-co, the next day............but today logic is beyond me.
I feel like a whinger. I am a whinger. I want to get back to that false veneer of happiness I can usually present so well. I'm sure if I say I'm okay with my lot in life I will eventually come to accept it. My CBT training says it'll work if I stick to it. And most days I do. Just not today.
Today I'm not going to fight it. I'm just too tired. Today I'm going to ride the wave. As long as I find a way to tread water rather than drown I think I'll be okay.
In the words of Scarlet O'Hara, "Tomorrow is another day". Can I request that it hurries the hell up.
Sorry for this woe is me moment. We will resume normal programming next week.
I'm not asking for pity by the way. I'm just venting. I'll probably regret posting this tomorrow, but that's the way it goes. Today I'm going to expose my petty, whinger, pathetic side, to the world. Tomorrow I'll shake and slap myself. I'll break out the can of "harden up princess", and go back to ops normal.