Tonight is one of those nights that I am feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. It was my youngest’s birthday, however we had her party over the weekend, so nothing truly special went on. She got to pick what we watched before bed, and I let her have cake for dinner. Four year olds love cake for dinner. I let it slide. However, that is not why I am feeling low. I feel down due to another reminder of my painful reality. The reality that is inside me, that controls the world around me. The broken, damaged, and corrupt inside.
I had little to eat today, as I had over done it over the weekend and caused myself so much intestinal pain I could barely move yesterday. I ended up with intestinal bleeding again, and this meant for multiple trips to the bathroom. There is something so depressing about such abnormal things becoming such a normal thing in my life. Excessive bleeding from any orifice should (and would) be alarming to the average person, but to me it has become a common thing. This has been happening more and more with me, and any time I over do it in any way, I begin to bleed. Work. Playing around with my kids. Lifting, moving things. Anything that involves exerting myself causes my to bleed. This is nothing short of depressing, and I can tell you that tonight I am feeling it.
This morning I was not only bleeding, but I was also quite swollen. My eyes were puffy, my fingers the size of sausages, and my arms were splotchy from the pressure of the edema. I noticed a new cyst on my nose, and the remains of the cold sore that broke out over night, and took over what feels like my entire bottom lip. It hurts to move, to eat, to even speak, but off to work I went. I did consider not going into work for a few minutes, but reminding myself that the woman who runs the Human Resources has an odd vendetta against me and without hitting my 40 hours in a week, she wouldn’t think twice about pulling my insurance out from under me. SNAP! My impression of that awful woman yanking away the only thing keeping me afloat at this point. I understand that it is a technicality, and she isn’t completely responsible, but she is a very cold and harsh woman, thus causing the very thought of missing work and having to deal with her more unbearable than dealing with the pain. Put on a smile, and get out the door! A little extra makeup will cover the bags under your eyes, and the new hair color will mask any other possible changes that are noticeable.
I was right. Nobody noticed, and it is not as if I want them to. I know I am a downer when I talk about my illnesses. I know I am a downer when my 10 bottles of pills fall out of my purse at work, or I have to take my pills at my desk. I know people look at me and think, “What a hypochondriac.” I don’t think people realize what it takes to get up every day and do this. To put a smile on my face. To get myself, and two other people prepared to face the world each morning; To get in my car and actually make it to the three locations I must hit before work. I don’t exactly want them to, but I also don’t want them to look at me and think that I am ok. I don’t want either. I don’t want to be looked at differently, but I don’t want my struggles to be brushed off.
Tonight I am feeling heavy. Sad. Fuck it, tonight I am really really sad and I very much hate this body I am living in. Tonight I can feel the pain all over. I can feel the sores, I can feel the muscle pain, I can feel my insides fighting against my entire body. I CAN FEEL THE DECAY.. and it is making me very sad. Very, very sad.
I am sad inside and out.