Stupid

I.hate.this.

These stupid, idiotic pain pills certainly help the pain. But now, the side effects are starting to kick in. I don't know that escaping from the pain is worth what I feel inside.

I'm over analyzing everything right now. And creating problems. Again.

I'm taking something that is probably very innocent and blowing it way out of proportion.

I'm such an idiot.

I really am.

Why?

So I had a panic attack tonight. In fact, it may still be going on. I can't shut my brain off to sleep. And so now I'm panicing about not getting any sleep before I have to get up at 4:30 to be at work at 5:45.

This two job thing is killing me. All I'm trying to do is keep my head above water. I can barely pay my cell bill. I can't pay my car insurance for another two weeks. They'll cancel it before then. Then I can't drive to work.

This is what goes through my brain.

I keep trying to call my kids. According to the ex, he gives Princess the phone, so she has the decision to answer it or not. I haven't spoken to them in almost two weeks. Sometimes, I don't know why I bother.

I gave Finn a hard time tonight. Guilt trip. For no reason. In the height of my attack. Not the first time I've done it either. So, of course, I'm obsessing over that. I'm such an idiot sometimes.

But I blame the ex for a lot of it. I lost so much of myself over the years, that I'm very insecure about myself now. I pretend that I'm OK. That life is just duckie. Truth is, parts of it just suck. And when I get these attacks, I attack everyone around me. I want them to hurt like I hurt. And I hate that I do that. I really hate myself after.

Like I hate myself for lashing out at Finn tonight.

I don't understand how I can pour my heart out here. I suppose I feel anonymous. That the internet is like smoke...I can hide in the cloud under a screen name. I need to talk to those that care about me-not faceless beings that hide behind their own screen name.

What I need is a magic switch to turn off my brain right now. I'm so burnt out. I need some sleep. But the sandman has refused to visit me so far tonight.

Maybe if I just try and convince myself, like I've convinced others, that life is duckie, I can drift off to dream land....

Frightened

I just realized how scared I am.

I'm scared of my feelings.

I'm scared of what happened last night.

I'm scared of the future.

I'm scared there won't be a tomorrow.

I'm scared of so much.

I can't help but wonder if everything that has been sacrificed is worth this much pain. I mean, telling Finn that I'm falling in love with him last night scares me.

Why do I fear my feelings? Is it because these are true feelings from my true self? Is it because I haven't felt like this in so long? Because I don't want to screw this relationship up? These are my feelings. I shouldn't be scared of them.

Why is this so hard? It was so easy so many years ago. Does it change that much as you grow older? Is it because I've had to say good bye to my past? Am I mourning the person I thought I had to be? I look back and there's nothing to mourn. She was nothing. Am I mourning what I thought was happiness? I mean, honestly, I haven't been this happy in a long time.

Why am I crying then?

Why am I questioning everything that has happened up until this point?

I hate this. I really fucking hate this.

I HATE THIS DISEASE

First off, I must say (picture hearing a seething voice, through gritted teeth),

"I hate this fucking disease."

I hate the fucking pain that's associated with it.

My husband was trying to say good bye to me before he left for work. Lately, he gets a bit frisky to make me think of him during the day (I do that anyway, I don't need the friskiness, although it is nice). So, this morning, he pushed down a little too hard on my belly. I saw stars. He quickly got up and practically ran out the door with barely an "I love you".

I fucking hate it. No one deserves this. He doesn't deserve it. My kids deserve a mommy that's not sick.

Even on medicine, I still get sick. True, the flares are longer in between, but they still come. Then, this feeling comes on again.

I'm not doing a pity me sch peal. I'm just venting. One needs to do that. And I apologize for the strong language.

I first got sick at age 17. I'm 33 now. I've had two hospitalizations. I've had two blood transfusions. The first transfusion later almost made me lose my pregnancy with my son because of some really rare antigen in it. I miss out on so much because I get too sick to partake in anything. I will have this for the rest of my life. There is no cure; only maintenance. Fucking great.

And, now to be shunned by my husband.

I fucking hate this disease.