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unspoken-realities · 4 years

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ACH, part 5

October 7, 2017; 9 AM

Well, now that I’ve warmed up with that list of revelations and rants, I reckon I’m ready to write. Sorry I haven’t since the fifth (Wednesday, my first full day): I’ve been really tired and didn’t want this to just be another chore.

Although lots happens everyday, I am still just sitting in bed for all of it. I guess most of the happenings are mental/psychological.

Thursday was bad, definitely the worst day so far, but to be honest, I have miserable moments like clockwork throughout the day. I barely even remember what happened on Thursday to make it so shitty. I can recall that up until supper I was doing alright. Mom was able to bring my schoolwork, so I started on some chemistry. The day’s meals were less than favourable, but still tolerable. I hate when they give me a meal void of fruit or veg. For example, Thursday’s and last night’s suppers of only gross meat and mashed potatoes, served congealed at room temp… blech.

However, I did meet with Jenn, the dietitian, on Thursday: this was a priority for me so I’m glad it happened, but needing to be so thorough in reliving and reciting my past diet decisions sorta sent me back into a spiral, wondering what was so bad about them in the first place.

Not being able to concentrate on my chemistry work, resulting in finishing two chapter subsections and understanding next to nothing, didn’t help. Made me feel even more hopeless, stupid, useless.

I felt fat, bloated, and chubby all day, but pinching the chub on my jawline after supper made everything unbearable. Directly after dinner Mom visited (planning to stay the night), not allowing me time to subtly stretch myself out after gruesome food; I was really not tin the mood to listen to her noisily slurp down her dinner and join me in my life of sedentariness.

I’m so jealous of people now: if you have the freedom and ability to wakl around, or run, or just NOT BE SITTING 24/7, why wouldn’t you take that chance?? Especially since all Mom does at work is sit. God, I really hate that sometimes… sometimes I hate her for her weight and lifestyle choices, even though I know that’s not fair.

So on Thursday I was very irritable, to the point where Mom took a walk around ACH to give us both some breathing room. I broke down crying, and punched myself on any fleshy part I could find, especially my stomach. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse: snack time! I wanted to die. The nurse who brought my apple (thankfully it was small) goaded me the whole time with “you can do it” and “just a bit left.” Stupid meals, stupid food. When snack was over I cried some more over my chemistry, then invited Mom back to the room. I feel asleep still very upset.

Friday, yesterday, was alternatively quite good. Mostly. I had an OK sleep, a (sadly fruitless) tolerable breakfast, nice meeting with mental health Doctor lady I can never remember the nae of, and was promised not only a shower, but also a wheelchair ride! It was the thought of these two things that kept me going throughout the day. That, and the fact that I was able to sneak in some full-body “stretches”… right before and after breakfast.

I turned on MTV for some music in the background, flipped backward on my bed, and managed to accomplish a fair section of math (successfully, and with full comprehension), woo-hoo! I was very tired all day though, so napped before lunch; my meals (save for dinner) were also lovely! Veg-packed chicken bunwich for lunch, and more veg with hummus at snack!! That made my day much better.

I talked to an art therapist, who is going to try to pair me up with the music therapist. The weather outside was cloudier and windy, which made my indoor predicament easier to cope with. Sukhleen was my evening nurse for the whole stretch, which is good because she’s very supportive. But then… *thunder clap, lightning strike, dramatic music*:

SUPPER TIME!

Two slices of fatty, cold roast beef smothered in salty congealed gravy, and a heavy slop of mashed taters. Not a green thing in sight. Gag. Sukhleen talked a lot during dinner, meaning I was required to talk a lot, meaning it took longer to eat. Dinner was already happening early (5:15ish instead of 5:30), and I was being pushed to finish quickly, and it was a disgusting meal. So you know what I did, partially out of habit, and also out of hatred for my situation? I “exercised.” Or, what was to me only stretching… honestly I’ve done so much “stretching” over the past few days that

a) I’m surprised they hadn’t caught on sooner, and

b) I don’t even recall quite what I was doing last night.

Regardless, another nurse caught me, and told Sukhleen… she took it really seriously. Really seriously. I felt so, well stupid, again, but ashamed and like I had disappointed everyone, like now there was a glaring red bull’s-eye on my door for all the nurses to read which said, “Beware! Anorexic girl may exercise! She’s mentally retarded!” I felt ashamed mostly for getting caught, though, and became extremely nervous that my shower and ride privileges would be revoked. Thankfully, I opened up to Sukhleen (who stayed by my bed for ten minutes after the incident to monitor me” about my “triggers”/why I did it, and because of that, I was still allowed my nighttime treats. This was also just before Mom visited, which made me feel even more childish and embarrassed when Sukhleen reported my behaviours to her.

The rest of the evening went well, but it seemed (and still seems) like all good things come with just as strong a bad. I learned that my room is the closest to the main Unit 4 desk, because I am basically on non-stop ED watch… I never even considered that my central location was meaningful, but it makes me weird. Makes me feel watched and unstable. The wheelchair ride around unit 4 was great, but Mom walked frustratingly slow, I hardly saw any other patients, and was forcibly restricted to just Unit 4; grapes for snack were a fruit (yippee!), but I was still full from dinner; playing Scrabble with Mom was a relaxing, fun time but I felt utterly exhausted for some reason; showering for the first time in five days was miraculously cleansing, but I was freezing, needed Mom to help me the whole time, had to be sitting, and had zero privacy with my own body. I doubt I’ll have any real source of alone time with my body over the next couple weeks, not that I need it in any sexual way, just for monitoring and examining and being. Perhaps this will be a good thing?

Lastly, I was cozy in bed, but still shivering from the shower. My back, knees, and head were aching (and still are now), my night nurse who took my vitals in the middle of the night smelled like disgusting fast food meat, and thus falling and staying asleep were both very difficult. I dreamt of being in the kitchen at home, faced with piles of desserts and needing to feed myself supper… my tears from earlier in the day and night over food quickly returned.

That is one thing about yesterday that was shocking: my Food Moods. At one point of optimism before lunch, I was thrilled to find that I might be able to eat Shreddies when I got home, and happily became misty-eyed. No more than two hours later I became frustrated/emotionally distraught to the point of tears over what I think was probably images or videos of food recipes; the former reaction happened as I was trying to fall asleep with no external stimuli. Overall, it’s one big ol’ rollercoaster.

Following along with the rollercoaster trend is my heart rate: yesterday I was resting easy around mid 50s (a point of contention for my brain: if my pulse/vitals/heart is better, as confirmed by the medical team, why am I here?? Do I belong/deserve to be here?), but was laying in bed almost asleep, the monitor alarmed multiple times because it had dropped to 35/36!! And now while I’ve been sitting upright journalling, it’s between high 70s ad 80s; I came back from the bathroom, and plugged in to a 102!! Holy cow.

I’m not sure how to feel about this. Is higher better? Higher makes me think I should be better, but makes me feel worse because I can no longer quantify my “illness”/reason for being here. Higher also makes me think of tachycardic, obese, artery-clogged patients struggling to sit up in bed without wheezing. Yikes.

This morning has been odd… odd. Waking up with an excruciating headache (with slight nauseous migraine-y symptoms) and backache was less than pleasant, and actually meant I did not sleep well at all. Breakfast was fruitless again, with a huge portion of dry Cheerios, and a hard-boiled egg. The egg I am gaining more respect for, because I can cut it into small enough portions in order to break, smear, and thus avoid eating, the fatty yolk. Then I’ve been journalling for this whole time, haven’t even cleaned up my bed sheets yet. Brushed teeth, washed up, then small (hallelujah!) mostly guilt-free snack of two saltless saltines and a slice of marble cheese. I broke the cheese into bits, and somehow ended with a perfect coinciding portion of cracker to pair up with it. This feels like a good omen for the rest of the day.

#ed #ana #mia #inpatient #recovery #hospitalization #eatingdisorders #anorexianervosa

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slowmethod · 5 years

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Hey there!

I like to drink. I think it’s fun, I think it tastes great.

I associate it to social events, and I like the history of alcoholic beverages, and the whole process of making them. The only issue I have is that it’s a poison. Loss of motor control and throwing up are usually tell-tell signs.

Unfortunately, I have trouble letting go of things I like. Even if those things are killing me. Tobacco, High Energy Cities, Coffee, Sweets, Toxic People… but once in a while, I take the time to cut them out of my life, and see how it feels.

This August, I had too much of a good time. 3-4 glasses of wine, or beer, around 5 times per week. It’s a lot, even when you‘re on holiday. I think this was a reaction to my 12 week Weight Loss Challenge which has a BEFORE and AFTER post, where I lay down exactly everything I did to lose 9,1 kg in 12 weeks (and 10kg in 14 weeks). During the challenge, I cut down to 1 day a week where I could drink, and the whole food intake control on top of it was a bit much I think, so I bounced back.

Fuelled by Joe Rogan’s Sober October challenge (which apparently existed long before that) I thought it would be a great idea to do the same, but in November.

Why November? Because my birthday is in October, and I enjoy popping champagne and having abuzz as a celebration.

As any of the challenges I do, I got a sheet of paper out and drew my 30 squares with the days inside on the 1st of November, and ticked it off immediately. Why don’t I prepare it beforehand? It’s all explained in this article HERE, but basically I like to ignite the challenge with a win. So I don’t actually draw the sheet before I’ve had a win.

Here’s how it went :

PREMISES

The not drinking part was actually much easier than I thought it would be, mostly because I have facilitating factors :

My girlfriend doesn’t drink. At all. She doesn’t like it. That means we didn’t have any alcohol at home, except for Cooking Rhum but I really don’t like rhum.

I usually drink the most when I see my parents. However, two extra lucky factors came into play. My brother just had a baby (yippee!) so I mostly met with my parents at my brother’s house, in the daytime. On top of that my father also reduced his drinking, in order to prepare to quite smoking.

No social events. Except for one birthday. I simple brought some Heineken 0.0 beers (having the reputation of tasting the best), and drank those. No one cared really. So no excuses.

PHYSICAL IMPROVEMENTS :

I decided to take a weekly picture of my torso to see if any changes occurred :

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What do you think? I would say I put muscle on, and lost a little fat, until day 21 where I seem to have put fat back on.

As the weeks went by, I had more and more of an urge for chocolate. I’ve had a few stressful events occurring my professional life, and alcohol and chocolate both being anxiolytics, I ate a lot more chocolate (Ferrero Rochers to be exact).

Other physical interesting fact, I have felt less HOT and sweaty. So I suffer from hyperhydrosis, meaning I sweat PROFUSELY. On top of that I’m ginger, which means a greater sensitivity to heat differences. Explosive combo.

I take the subway when I go to meetings, my sessions or anything else. This is Paris, this is how you do things. And when you go from a frosty 1 degree celsius to a whooping 32 degrees filled subway, the slap in the face is quite extraordinary. I seem to be the only one that has to strip down to his t-shirt when this happens. Everyone else happily cruise in zipped up coats… go figure!

Well, not drinking has helped with that tremendously. I imagine stopping coffee will help when i get around to it.

PERFORMANCE :

Over the 30 days here’s what improved (in kgs) :

SQUAT : 142,5 -> 145

FRONT SQUAT : 100×2 -> 105×3

DEADLIFT : 182,5 -> 185kg

SUMO DEADLIFT : 145×3 -> 155x5kg

BENCH PRESS : 110 – > 112,5kg

OVERHEAD PRESS : 70×1 -> 70kgx2

You can see most of the movements on my instagram HERE

My other movements weren’t comparable because they were new movements. It has been a GREAT month performance-wise. I have felt less sore between sessions, I feel like I have been sharper during the lifts, and have felt less stress when attempting maximal efforts. This might simply be a coincidence, and I just became better at lifting and programming my sessions, but none of those factors were changed much.

SLEEP :

I have not changed my sleeping patters. I go to sleep at approximately the same time at night ( Around 11pm), and wake up between 6:15 and 7 am. However even waking up after a shorter night has been much easier. The compounded effect of NOT drinking for weeks really does make things much easier.

Going to sleep when you’ve had a drink is easier. I’ve had a bit of trouble falling asleep over the past few weeks ,but mostly because I was fired up by new things developing in my business, and I have been thinking about a lot of developments for the future.

MOOD :

Now this is the best part. I don’t thinkI have achieved as much in my life as I have in the past month. My productivity is waaaay up, and my capacity to do start things has also increased. I think that decreased stress levels coming from better sleep, and detoxing from alcohol has made me a much harder worker. I also have to that Gary Vee screaming in my ears all day long that helps

THE AFTER :

Now… here’s what happened when I drank again on the 1st of december. So saturday night. I drank slowly but surely from 6pm to 12 pm, and I drank a whole bottle of wine (Pouilly-Fumé 2017). I had a great time. I was joyful, singing, even dancing while cooking, had a great time with my girlfriend.

Fast forward to the next morning, and a veil of sadness came over me… I was silent, grumpy, and feeling unworthy for some unexplained reason. I wasn’t tired, or had a headache or hangover nausea. But I was snappy towards my girlfriend at the gym, so much so that I saw her become sad too. My mouth started tingling, and I felt like I had inhaled dust or something.

And Lo and Behold! I woke up Monday morning sick. I haven’t been sick in over 2 years. Now is this another coincidence? Has a month of breaking records, and the autumn slowly becoming darker, wetter and colder simply made me weaker? I don’t have an answer, but the sequence of events is there.

CONCLUSION :

I am going to stop alcohol 3 times for 30 days in 2019, and probably drink much less than I have been in the past. The upside of quitting outweighs the downside by a lot. These 30 days have taught me I don’t need to drink, and even though I enjoy it very much, the short term enjoyment is not worth the long game of getting stronger and healthier.

Take care,

Morgan.

Sober November Results Hey there! I like to drink. I think it’s fun, I think it tastes great. I associate it to social events, and I like the history of alcoholic beverages, and the whole process of making them.

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d1tman-blog · 6 years

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Here is my life...(I sent this to my medical provider, Piedmont Healthcare)

I am sending this here because I can't get it to my medical team any other way. I can't afford ink for my printer, so I can't print the excerpt to hand it them, and it is too long to send in MyChart. My Care Team consists of Dr Sanjay Sarin, Dr Ashish Bhimani, Dr Garry McCulloch, Barbara Conlon, NP, and Hannah Folds, NP. Because I for some reason usually don't feel as terrible during my visits to the medical team, it seems like the day to day feeling shitty all the time isn't taken into account. Dr Sarin asks if I have gone to work every time I visit him, but I do well to walk across my living room many days, much less hold down a job. To give you all an idea what being Tommy Johns is like, I am including excerpts from my diary. It is a bit long, but shows pretty well what it is like being me. I don't have a death wish, so please don't try to do the psychiatric exam on me. I don't need one, and I will just quit Piedmont and go to another healthcare facility. ....................... ..Diary Excerpts 3 Before you get started on the diary, put something that mildly buzzes next to your ear. Keep it there a few minutes. That is one of the things I have going on 24/7/365, and have had it for 3 years (tinnitus). Now get a belt and tighten it as tight as you can by hand around your head. that is what I feel 24/7/365: My life changed drastically and unalterably in early October, 2015. I had gotten that terrible flu that went round Atlanta and did not understand or recognize it's severity until I felt as if I would not draw another breath. I woke up one Sunday morning unable to breathe. I could only breathe sitting straight up. Monday morning I made a doctor appointment with my general practitioner. To make a long story short, I ended up in the hospital in late October for the 1st of 14 times, sometimes only 5 days per stay, sometimes as long as 9 days (as of 5/23/2018). I remained in the hospital a week. The flu had developed into pneumonia, and bacteria from the pneumonia damaged my heart even more than the childhood illness did), causing congestive heart failure, atrial fibrillation, and an enlarged heart. Complications from these and from the medicines to combat it have also caused renal insufficiency and elevated liver enzymes. I am now on 9 medications to combat the diseases. I have also had two TIAs (mini strokes) and precancerous polyps were removed from my colon. To those who will be conducting and/or involved in my funeral: Don't spend any more money than necessary to bury me. If I am near death and someone finds me, don't use heroic measures to save me. Just keep me from as much pain as possible. It is in many respects difficult to contemplate death, but the facts and my present condition preclude a long life, so I will end this journey shortly. I am comforted by the words attributed to Julius Caesar in Shakespeare's novel: " Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear death, Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come." To be honest, I will be glad when this life of misery and pain is over. I wish it would have been different. I wish that all I had dreamed and aspired to had become reality. The circumstances have dealt a different path though. I have taken a very different road in life than I ever would have imagined. There is so much to say: The loss of broken and unrealized dreams, expectations unfilled, life cut short. I hope my ramblings on Facebook, Twitter and tumblr, and my encounters on this journey called life have had a positive impact on someone, and that I have made a positive difference in someone's life. I will keep a diary starting on page two of this document. I hope to live a long life, but It doesn't seem like that is to be. I have made some tremendous mistakes in my life, but hope the good I have done outweighs the bad. There isn't a day that goes by when I am not saddened unbearably by losing the love of family. To everyone, I love you. Diary: 10/18/2016. I felt pretty fair throughout most of the day, although I haven't slept a lot. I haven't really kept track but I believe I slept about 4 hours from 4:30am until 8:30am, then from about 2:30pm until 4:30pm. I feel like sh*t now. Weak, heart beating hard... I think nearly every day about not living through this any more...Congestive heart failure, atrial fibrillation, and an enlarged heart - it is a bitch to live with - no energy, no stamina, hurting or in some type of discomfort constantly. 10/19/2016 Another day feeling like total sh*t. What else is there to say? 10/20/2016 I feel a little bit better today - still no energy to speak of. I hurt my back, so am dealing with that in addition to everything else. I stay tired and sleepy nearly all the time... 10/21/2016 Can't sleep. Heart racing, lungs feel tight. 10/22/2016 went back on Proventil inhaler. I think last dose was about 10:45pm 10/21/2016. Have to wait another hour for another dose. can't breathe. Weak stomach tight/bloated. have dry cough. able to sleep 5 hours after 2nd dose of Proventil. Still no energy, no stamina. Throat and mouth dry. slept another 3 hours. Ear infection is back. Ear infection is bothering the hell out of me. Constant ringing. a little sick - don't know if it is from ear infection or other malady - had runny stool several times yesterday. Lost my appetite. Got prescriptions and started back taking them. I hope it gets me feeling better. Kevin's arraignment was Wednesday - charged with felony marijuana possession, misdemeanor marijuana possession, and drug paraphernalia. Finally getting a little hungry. Ate 1/2 Big Mac large meal earlier; Will finish it. Lasix is working me over. 10/23/2016 hard to breathe - can't sleep well. yet am almost overpoweringly sleepy. I finally got a little sleep - about 5 hours. Stomach is cramping, still no energy, no stamina. 10/24/2016 Woke up early - hard to breathe. don't have stamina or energy for sh*t. Get extremely tired when sitting in a chair and need to lie down and rest, but it takes a long time to sleep - if I am able to - because it is hard to breathe lying down. made a doctor's appointment for Thursday at 3:30pm. 10/25/2016 same as yesterday. may be getting a little worse. 10/26/2016 my worst day yet. same as the days above, but can't get relief even for a moment. Constant pain and discomfort, tightening band around my head - helluva headache 11/8/2016 Still feel nauseous about 3/4 of the day each day. Doctors think it is the medicine that makes me sick: Indications for some of the meds say will make you sick. Kevin still has shitty attitude. He doesn't get it that he will need to impress the hell out of the jailers to get conditional release program. 11/11/2016 Sick as sh*t. I hope that is what is causing me to be so confrontational with people rather than me turning into an a**hole. I went off on Jecca. Got jealous because she contacted an old boyfriend of hers. Turns out he called her because he has some type of injury to his hand and foot and wanted some sympathy. I told her if she continues contact with him I would start hanging with sluts and send her pictures. I told him I would stomp his ass if he kept contacting her. I got pretty nasty with her before we finally made up and resolved it. 11/12/2016 I have been off the diary except sporadically for a while. I thought I was getting better: No such luck. Started driving to class today and threw up all over myself and my car. I am extremely nauseous, and have a tremendous headache. I get hungry as hell, but then get full after only two or three bites of food. Death would be a blessing. No energy, listless, no ambition, no drive. Headaches are the norm for me, and the ear infection is chronic with constant tinnitus. 11/13/2016 pretty much the same as yesterday. a general feeling of malaise, nauseated. 12/4/2016 I was invited to Christmas dinner. I hope I can have the energy to go. It is getting to the point I don’t even want to be around anyone. I just want to be in the comfort of my own home. Becoming even more of a recluse than normal. New medication regimen seems to be working a little better. Still feel weak and sleepy most of the time. I guess tinnitus will be permanent. 12/12/2016 Was invited to a show free of charge to sell my jewelry. I don’t have the stamina to set up my display, much less be there several hours. Headaches are normal, and tinnitus is constant. 4 days now with no sleep. Period. Zilch. Nada. Bupkis. 12/24/2016 I can’t make it to the Christmas dinner I was invited to. I don’t have the energy to go. Staying home and cooking chicken with vegetables. 11/14/2017 It has been a long time since the last entry, but what's the point? At least by reading it I discover again the pain and shitty feeling all the time are not new. I don't know what the merit is in that, but it makes me feel like maybe I am not getting worse: I just get the unparalleled joy of feeling like total ** all the time: Nausea - constant; headache - constant; tinnitus - constant. It is all 24/7/ 365 until I manage to sleep for a little while - 3 or if I'm lucky, 4 hours at a time. YIPPEE!!! On a different note, Jecca and I are no longer together. When I incurred tremendous financial burdens because of the CHF, she no longer wanted to stick around. It has really done a number on me emotionally, but on the other hand, it wouldn't be fair to want her to stick around and watch me die, becoming a widow in the prime of her life. I would like at my funeral, Crossing the Bar read during the service: Crossing the Bar BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have cross’d the bar. 9/12/2018 It has been quite a while since my last entry, but each day is rehash of every other day. To add to the fun of my life, My right shoulder has started hurting and I am in excruciating pain. It is from an old exercise injury from doing back arm pushups, when I tore my rotator cuff. I can't afford another doctor bill, and have to live with it. 10/22/2018 My shoulder still hurts. I can barely lift it shoulder high, and it wakes me up hurting like hell. I only sleep 2 or 3 hours at a time because of it, and have to move it with my left hand until I am awake a little while and it limbers up again. The Tylenol the doctors told me I can take for pain aint sh*t...I might as well be taking Gummy Bears for pain... I started an online ministry - not much participation - only 24 members after a few months, but I post sermons and positive thoughts for the day, most of the time twice a day on the positive thoughts.. Well, I will stop blubbering. Nothing can change, unless I somehow have the good fortune of being hit by a Mack truck or a meteor falling from the sky to put me out of my misery, or something like that. Yippee ki yay. Anecdote: I may seem at times to not have much patience with people when they have their little foibles. I am not cold hearted, and have tremendous empathy when people are truly in pain or have grief. It is the little mundane bs that people grouse about that annoys me.

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dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt · 6 years

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Confession time... yippee.

Well... it's Christmas. I've had a secret that's been dragging me down for two years now, so, I figured, I may as well get it off my chest so I can - hopefully - move on in the New Year. Yeah. 'Hopefully'. Anyway, if I can't be honest at Christmas, when can I be honest? So, here it is: I love you. You probably already knew this. I told you often enough. But I love you. Like, centre-of-my-world, most-beautiful girl/human/being-I've-ever-seen, a-luminescent-angel-in-my-eyes, 10/10-would-marry. That kind of love. Christ, why am I even writing this?

I don't know exactly when I started falling for you, mostly because I don't think I ever 'fell'. Falling brings to mind some an angel, shedding feathers like stars, twisting and turning with exquisite grace as it falls to earth. I, on the other hand, plummeted. Out-of-control. Most likely screaming in a high-pitched, undignified way. I also splattered at the bottom, like an overripe tomato. There's a mental image for you. I was impaled at the bottom of that vast canyon by lovely spires of self-doubt, insecurities, self-loathing, and - worst of them all, the cunning dagger of stone that went right through my heart - foolish, stupid, idiotic, imbecilic hope. I was, to put it bluntly, a terrified, blindsided mess. And also totally, absolutely, completely, utterly in love. You know when you're scrolling through music insinuating romance and you start picturing the one you love? Up until I met you, I'd only pictured fictional characters. Unrequited, yes, and thus painful, but bearable. Fast forward, and I was actually amazed at how much more painful it was when the object of my imagination was a real and tangible girl - granted, half the world away - while a thousand knives of agony gleefully assaulted my chest. I would cuss myself out at impressive length whenever this happened. Told myself ad nauseam that there was no way in hell that it was happening. Over and over again. Like a broken record. Thought I was gonna go insane. Maybe I did. It feels like it. But it was such an honour to be driven insane by you. I was sort of half glad that we weren't sharing a continent, because if you could meet me face-to-face, you would have known I was head over heels. A blind, deaf, and dumb codfish would have seen it, so there would be no hope for you not noticing - you, so intelligent and perceptive. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't notice as it was. I couldn't hold myself back from complimenting you practically daily. Maybe you did notice. Sometimes I thought you might have even been flirting back. I dismissed that so fast the thought barely formed; I bashed in its soft infant skull with the brutal logic that was slowly pulverizing my head with its weighty facts. You're beautiful. You're clever. You're creative. You're strong. You're funny. You're smart. You're two years older than me. You want a baby (which I am incapable of giving you without difficulty.) That didn't stop my dumb ass from starting to flirt with you. Many times, I freaked. Thought I'd gone too far, been too obvious. I was quick to fling something platonic at you within the next few messages. My heart raced for a half-hour each time. I am a Hufflepuff, not a Gryffindor, okay. On Valentine's day, I got jealous. I'll admit it. Not even for real people, either. I was jealous over fictional characters, just because you thought of them in a way that you would never think of me. So I sent you a virtual Valentine's card that involved a terrible pun and Comic Sans text. Because I'm a dork, and I have no idea how to do the Romance™. And I wanted to impress you (don't know why I thought that kind of Valentine was the way to do that, maybe because I'm a fucking idiot.) Once it was sent, I freaked, again. Thought I'd gone too far, again. Thank God she didn't notice, I thought reverently after you replied to normally the next day, while I beat back the crippling disappointment using my rib cage as a jungle gym. I tried to be the best boyfriend I could be without actually, y'know, being your boyfriend. I tried to support you. Indulge all your creative ideas (even though 'indulge' feels like the wrong word, since I genuinely loved them.) Whenever you sent pics, I told you how beautiful you looked (you should probably know I almost swallowed my tongue with every picture of you I saw. My puny brain did not like comprehending your level of beauty.) I tried to do everything I possibly could, not even in the hopes that you would actually date me. Just because you deserved my effort and more - as a stranger, as a friend, as a girlfriend. You were you, and that's all that mattered to me. Time went on. Somehow, even though I was already presumably at rock-bottom, I managed to fall even more for you. You were like my own personal brand of quicksand, forget heroin. It was our RPs that kept me from going completely mental. I wrote the other halves of your ships for you - the aforementioned fictional partners over which I was boiling with jealousy - and so I could confess all my feelings for you through their POVs. I could tell you I loved you. I could tell you how I loved you. I could tell you how beautiful, amazing, brilliant you were to me. I could say all of this as many times as I want, and you wouldn't guess it was really me telling you from me, rather than me telling you from your ship-mate. (Now you know why I liked RPing Bree's POV so much. Lucky bastard.) More time went by, and things started getting rough. I kept giving you things. Covers for you and your ships. Things I'd written - scenarios and preferences and imagines, some of them pages and pages long. I kept giving them to you, even when you told me to stop, because the more I gave, the better I felt - it was a way for me to show my love, and I did not want to stop. It wasn't rational, I know, but I felt like if I stopped, I would lose you. But I was giving you too much. It was draining me dry, all my inspiration, all my friendliness, everything. I tried to talk to you about it on several occasions, since you'd told me you were trying to give me more but weren't, but it just ended in arguments after which nothing changed, so I didn't see the point in bringing it up. I started getting anxiety before talking to you. I would spend sleepless nights with headaches pounding behind my dry eyes with every ridiculously fast beat of my heart. I felt sick, listless, constantly tired. I felt like I was killing myself for you, slowly, slowly, slowly, but surely. And yet, I still loved you. It felt like I loved you more and more, every day. I fell for your every quirk, your every 'flaw', your smile and your laugh - oh, your laugh gave me the most indescribable warm feeling, like a small sun of pure joy expanding inside my chest - your mind and your body, your humour, your silliness, your maturity, your childishness - all of it. All of you. I loved you more than myself. And so I kept going. Kept coming on with a smile and a "hello, beautiful" and a handful of pills for the headache that hadn't left since the anxiety-ridden dread of last night. The few times I thought you felt the same were the times that my heart missed a beat, plain stopped, and then sprinted into overdrive. Nervousness and excitement and anticipation. The more excited I felt, the harder the crash after I realized you hadn't meant it. When you finally got a few real boyfriends, I will admit, I lost my cool. Went outside, beat the shit out of the old, tattered couch we had out the back. Had to wait to calm down, played with the dogs, cuddled the chickens, went back inside, and typed the words that bled out of my fingers right from the wound in my heart: "That's great!" I didn't want you to feel bad. I didn't want you to feel anything but happiness, ever. The end came around abruptly. It was the day my Dad asked me to write him something - just something small. He practically begged me, but I said I couldn't. Said I wasn't good enough. Snapped it at him without even thinking. Because I had written so much for you, made so much for you, gave so much of myself away for you, never feeling like it was enough - that I was enough - my self esteem was in shambles. Completely wreaked. I stopped, opened my laptop, and logged into Skype. My fingers hovered over the keys. I felt sick, dizzy, unsteady. My heart was beating so fast I could hardly pick out the individual beats. I was shaking. I distinctly remember the way my teeth chattered. I was terrified. Terrified to leave. More terrified to stay. Torn. Because, even though I was depressed and anxious because of our very uneven relationship, you were responsible for many of the best moments of my life. And they weren't even anything big. They were just us, RPing, talking, laughing together. You had the unique ability to make small, insignificant things, into memories I would cherish forever. You are unique, period. I typed out the first few messages, which were ambiguous, everything in me screaming to turn them into a joke, laugh it off. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. But I did it. Said goodbye to you. You replied. I replied to your reply, and I was so pissed, at myself, at you for the way you tried to turn it all back on me even though I had never do anything but love and support you unconditionally, even though I put everything I had and more into making you happy. I said things I didn't need, or really mean, to say.

So I lost you. I know I was the one that said goodbye. I know, and I regret it every single fucking day. I dream about you, for God's sake. My brain hates me more than I know you probably do right around now. On Christmas day, yesterday, I looked through some of our old conversations. I know I shouldn't. I should let you go. Stop living in the past. Let you find someone who can give you what you want and deserve. But I had to look. I cried like a goddamn baby. I've lost count of how many times my cursor has hovered over that request contact button on Skype. The only thing that's stopped me is the knowledge that you're better off without me. And now, here I am, writing all this down even though I hate it. I know you'll never see this. I know you've probably left me behind. I know you probably hate me, and I don't blame you. But I loved you. And I still do. So much that there is a pain like literal fucking knives currently carving your initials all over my insides. Maybe those carvings will heal. Maybe not. I don't even know if I want them to or not. I don't even know anything anymore. Anyway. I just needed to get this off my chest before it crushed me. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. I wish you nothing but a perfect life. Guess I'll always love you in some way, Pancake. .................... FML.

#me #personal #writing #my writing #best friend #FML #love

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d1tman-blog · 6 years

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Not to get ll maudlin and shit, but if I seem impatient sometimes,...well, here is an excerpt from my diary, started when I contracted Congestive Heart Failure and Atrial Fibrillation...

Diary Excerpts 3 The background story really starts in my childhood: I contracted Rheumatic Fever when I was 9 years old, a disease that left me with a damaged valve in my heart, and a slight heart murmur. Before you get started on the diary, put something that mildly buzzes next to your ear. Keep it there a few minutes. That is one of the things I have going on 24/7/365, and have had it for 3 years (tinnitus). Now get a belt and tighten it as tight as you can by hand around your head. that is what I feel 24/7/365: My life changed drastically and unalterably in early October, 2015. I had gotten that terrible flu that went round Atlanta and did not understand or recognize it's severity until I felt as if I would not draw another breath. I woke up one Sunday morning unable to breathe. I could only breathe sitting straight up. Monday morning I made a doctor appointment with my general practitioner. To make a long story short, I ended up in the hospital in late October for the 1st of 11 times, sometimes only 5 days per stay, sometiems as long as 9 days (as of 5/23/2018). I remained in the hospital a week. The flu had developed into pneumonia, and bacteria from the pneumonia damaged my heart even more than the childhood illness did), causing congestive heart failure, atrial fibrillation, and an enlarged heart. Complications from these and from the medicines to combat it have also caused renal insufficiency and elevated liver enzymes. I am now on 9 medications to combat the diseases. I have also had two TIAs (mini strokes) and precancerous polyps were removed from my colon. To those who will be conducting and/or involved in my funeral: Don't spend any more money than necessary to bury me. If I am near death and someone finds me, don't use heroic measures to save me. Just keep me from as much pain as possible. It is in many respects difficult to contemplate death, but the facts and my present condition preclude a long life, so I will end this journey shortly. I am comforted by the words attributed to Julius Caeser in Shakespeare's novel: " Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear death, Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come." To be honest, I will be glad when this life of misery and pain is over. I wish it would have been different. I wish that all I had dreamed and aspired to had become reality. The circumstances have dealt a different path though. I have taken a very different road in life than I ever would have imagined. There is so much to say: The loss of broken and unrealized dreams, expectations unfilled, life cut short. I hope my ramblings on Facebook, Twitter and tumblr, and my encounters on this journey called life have had a positive impact on someone, and that I have made a positive difference in someone's life. I will keep a diary starting on page two of this document. I hope to live a long life, but It doesn't seem like that is to be. I have made some tremendous mistakes in my life, but hope the good I have done outweighs the bad. There isn't a day that goes by when I am not saddened unbearably by losing the love of family. To everyone, I love you.

Diary: 10/18/2016. I felt pretty fair throughout most of the day, although I haven't slept a lot. I haven't really kept track but I believe I slept about 4 hours from 4:30am until 8:30am, then from about 2:30pm until 4:30pm. I feel like **** now. Weak, heart beating hard... I think nearly every day about not living through this any more...Congestive heart failure, atrial fibrillation, and an enlarged heart - it is a bitch to live with - no energy, no stamina, hurting or in some type of discomfort constantly. 10/20/2016 I feel a little bit better today - still no energy to speak of. I hurt my back, so am dealing with that in addition to everything else. I think I have made contact with someone - a public defender - who can help Kevin. I stay tired and sleepy nearly all the time... 10/21/2016 Can't sleep. Heart racing, lungs feel tight. 10/22/2016 went back on Proventil inhaler. I think last dose was about 10:45pm 10/21/2016. Have to wait another hour for another dose. can't breathe. Weak stomach tight/bloated. have dry cough. able to sleep 5 hours after 2nd dose of Proventil. Still no energy, no stamina. Throat and mouth dry. slept another 3 hours. Ear infection is back. Ear infection is bothering the hell out of me. Constant ringing. a little sick - don't know if it is from ear infection or other malady - had runny stool several times yesterday. Lost my appetite. Got prescriptions and started back taking them. I hope it gets me feeling better. Kevin's arraignment was Wednesday - charged with felony marijuana possession, misdemeanor marijuana possession, and drug paraphernalia. Finally getting a little hungry. Ate 1/2 Big Mac large meal earlier; Will finish it. Lasix is working me over. 10/23/2016 hard to breathe - can't sleep well. yet am almost overpoweringly sleepy. I finally got a little sleep - about 5 hours. Stomach is cramping, still no energy, no stamina. 10/24/2016 Woke up early - hard to breathe. don't have stamina or energy for ****. Get extremely tired when sitting in a chair and need to lie down and rest, but it takes a long time to sleep - if I am able to - because it is hard to breathe lying down. made a doctor's appointment for Thursday at 3:30pm. 10/25/2016 same as yesterday. may be getting a little worse. 10/26/2016 my worst day yet. same as the days above, but can't get relief even for a moment. Constant pain and discomfort, tightening band around my head - helluva headache 11/8/2016 Still feel nauseous about 3/4 of the day each day. Doctors think it is the medicine that makes me sick: Indications for some of the meds say will make you sick. Kevin still has shitty attitude. He doesn't get it that he will need to impress the hell out of the jailers to get conditional release program. 11/11/2016 Sick as ****. I hope that is what is causing me to be so confrontational with people rather than me turning into an a**hole. I went off on Jecca. Got jealous because she contacted an old boyfriend of hers. Turns out he called her because he has some type of injury to his hand and foot and wanted some sympathy. I told her if she continues contact with him I would start hanging with sluts and send her pictures. I told him I would stomp his ass if he kept contacting her. I got pretty nasty with her before we finally made up and resolved it. 11/12/2016 I have been off the diary except sporadically for a while. I thought I was getting better: No such luck. Started driving to class today and threw up all over myself and my car. I am extremely nauseous, and have a tremendous headache. I get hungry as hell, but then get full after only two or three bites of food. Death would be a blessing. No energy, listless, no ambition, no drive. Headaches are the norm for me, and the ear infection is chronic with constant tinnitus. 11/13/2016 pretty much the same as yesterday. a general feeling of malaise, nauseated. 12/4/2016 I was invited to Christmas dinner. I hope I can have the energy to go. It is getting to the point I don’t even want to be around anyone. I just want to be in the comfort of my own home. Becoming even more of a recluse than normal. New medication regimen seems to be working a little better. Still feel weak and sleepy most of the time. I guess tinnitus will be permanent. 12/12/2016 Was invited to a show free of charge to sell my jewelry. I don’t have the stamina to set up my display, much less be there several hours. Headaches are normal, and tinnitus is constant. 4 days now with no sleep. Period. Zilch. Nada. Bupkiss. 12/24/2016 I can’t make it to the Christmas dinner I was invited to. I don’t have the energy to go. Staying home and cooking chicken with vegetables. 11/14/2017 It has been a long time since the last entry, but what's the point? At least by reading it I discover again the pain and shitty feeling all the time are not new. I don't know what the merit is in that, but it makes me feel like maybe I am not getting worse: I just get the unparralled joy of feeling like total **** all the time: Nausea - constant; headache - constant; tinitus - constant. It is all 24/7/ 365 until I manage to sleep for a little while - 3 or if I'm lucky, 4 hours at a time. YIPPEE!!! On a different note, Jecca and I are no longer together. When I incurred tremendous financial burdens because of the CHF, she no longer wanted to stick around. It has really done a number on me emotionally, but on the other hand, it wouldn't be fair to want her to stick around and watch me die, becoming a widow in the prime of her life. I would like at my funeral, Crossing the Bar read during the service: Crossing the Bar BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark;

For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have cross’d the bar. I started an online ministry - not much participation - only 22 members after a few months, but I post sermons and positive thoughts for the day, most of the time twice a day on the positive thoughts. Well, I will stop blubbering and blathering now. Nothing can change, unless I somehow have the good fortune of being hit by a Mack truck or a meteor falling from the sky to put me out of my misery, or something like that. Yippee kayay. Anecdote: I may seem at times to not have much patience with people when they have their little foibles. I am not cold hearted, and have tremendous empathy when people are truly in pain or have grief. It is the little mundane bs that people grouse about that annoys me. My sister died when she was 15 and I was 16, from leukemia. My youngest brother died when he was 3 and I was 17, from aplastic anemia. My other brother died when he was 45 and I was 53, from a lifetime of alcohol and drug abuse. Both my parents died several years ago, and I am the only one left in my original family, and the only close relative I have is my son, who is now 30 yrs old. My girlfriend at the time (1977) died in my arms because she had been to a party and OD'd from booting cocaine. I was driving north on I-285 just north of Atlanta in 1984 when I saw a car lose control and t-bone another one, splitting it into. They both burst into flames. I was just behind them and drove through the flames, stopped and tried to rescue the people I saw burning in one of the cars. I couldn't get in to them because the flames had engulfed the car and I had to watch them burn, unable to help. I was driving on a state highway near my house when I was still a teenager and saw a car lose control and run into a delivery truck. The truck flipped over on its top, and the car slid in a ditch. When I got to the car (this was before padded steering wheels and air bags) I found the driver with part of the steering wheel sticking out of his throat. Both occupants were dying. All this is to say I have seen far more than my share of death and I have no patience with people who complain about little mundane things. On the other side of the fortune coin, I lost control of my car during a rain storm in which I ran over a board with a nail in it and blew out a tire in the rain slick highway: I rolled several times and was hit with the car jack in the head before coming to a stop at the bottom of a 27 foot embankment, but was not seriously injured. I was with a group of musicians in 1969 during the Piedmont Arts Festival in Atlanta, when we drove to the countryside with 3 cases of Red Ripple wine, using them as seats. The driver lost control of the van and we rolled several times down an embankment, and all but two bottles of wine broke. None of us were seriously injured. So forgive me if sometimes am a bit impatient and high strung. A friend once said, "Don't sweat the small stuff".

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