yesterday was not a good health doay, mental or otherwise.
totally seized at work. i've been feeling poorly all week, stress only making my physical symptoms worse. by the afternoon i was short and bitchy and then the bottom fell out. my stomach went to ice, my skin went to fire and i broke out in a sweat. its happened enough now that i knew what was coming. carl got me to the conference room. i was down on the couch screaming and pulling my hair and shaking and writhing, the whole bit, yelling for people not to call an ambulance.
i really don't like to write about it, it feels too scary and i don't know how to remove myself from it enough for the writing about it to not set me off. but i'll do my best.
it feels like my muscles are ripping off my bones, everything curls in on itself. then jumps back out. everything goes blurry and you can't breathe and you start to throw up and shit yourself at once and all you want is to not lose your food in your clothes, not in front of your workers. you pull at your hair and skin, cause for some reason you think that will help in that haze and delirium.
i don;t wanna write about after or what people saw or said. its embarrassing and a number of emotions i am uncomfortable with. i have some scratches on my face and arms but that's the worst of the visible signs left. it could have been worse, it has been worse before.
something Mark said yesterday has stuck with me though. "how do you daily manage this?" and i had to say "like this. i just try." cause i can't take medicine. the ones that have helped have rendered me unable to work or have a life. i'm a drone, a zombie, stupid. and i want a life. i want a life so much. i want what other people have. i'm not lazy, i want to work. i like being the girl that works 60 hours a week. that runs everything, is on top of things, does things. hits the gym like a beast, house clean and clothes done and food ready. hair and makeup right. and i just can't right now.
there are days where even getting up is hard. no, i don't wanna iron my clothes and blowdry my hair and put on makeup. you don't get it, i can barely lift my arms. grocery shopping when you're dragging a leg. going to work when you're almost sure someone is jamming a rod up your vagina? and i try to be positive, i really do. but its been 10 years and i don't know how to anymore at least not today, and certainly not yesterday.
and i'm reminded of things i've not that about in a while. one night at Montevallo, trying to to climb the stairs in Reynolds and i physically couldn't. i wasn't numb, i just couldn't do it. i ended up on my hands and knees pulling myself up both flights, crying. but i had to get up there, we had a show. and my doctor said to get more sleep.
i get now why i cosplay. cause can i just be someone else for a little while? someone who doesn't have all this? its escapism at its finest. its not a conscious choice, but it made sense today. i mean, everyone likes to get away sometimes. and i'm not living in a fantasy world, refusing to face reality. everyone has their thing that helps them just forget it all for a while, lay their troubles down. i just cover mine with a waist coat and skirt.
sometimes you need armor.
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