Stuck, Sick, And Wanting A Break
December 28th, 2008
Hello all! :) Sorry I haven’t written much lately, I’ve been… oddly stuck lately. Not a writer’s block sort of stuck, I’ve never had a problem with that sort of thing- my attention span doesn’t allow me to work on any project to the point of exhaustion which in the end is really a good thing.
No, this stuck’ness is something different. I’m having trouble deciding how to spend my time lately and little choices like should I check my email or my horoscope, or should I go draw or go paint, are starting to take more and more time. I’m thinking it’s one of two things, either A it’s because I finished writing my story and my brain is still so fried that my neural pathways are starting melt or maybe I just don’t know how to function after finally completing a project or B it’s something entirely different that I don’t feel like discussing right now.
All that aside, my stomach is killing me. I think I might have to take a trip back to the hospital soon which is really saying something coming from me. As often as I complain about all the junk that’s wrong with me I really don’t go see a doctor as much as you would think. The last time I went was cause my Hubby threatened to call an ambulance and I was having trouble breathing for a good three days, this time it’s cause it feels like I have a small but growing bonfire in my stomach.
It’s not like it’s anything new. I’ve had a problem with this since I was fifteen but the pain is starting to become too much and now that I know it’s tied in with my asthma, or actually vice versa, it makes me worry. I’m starting to lose what little control I had over it, see before- I knew if I avoided stress and a lot of the foods I like I could keep it under wraps. Now, I’m back on my stomach pills and having to take a lot more than I should and popping Rolaids like candy. Even right now I feel like I’m going to be sick.
I’m not really under any stress either. Life is good, it has it’s ups and downs and a few quirks but nothing like what my stress was a few years ago. I’m loved, happy, and quite content minus work and some other things that are all pretty tiny.
There’s this new lady up at work, a really awesome person and a wonderful worker with only a few undesirable traits to her personality- one of which is using her ailments as a an excuse for things. I can tell from the way she talks that she’s trying not to mention it too much but when she brings up all these different conditions for not wanting to do certain things… well, if she wasn’t such an awesome helper I’d be kind of pissed off to say the least.
We were talking the other day, she mentioned how she had trouble lifting things cause of her back and I told her about my own back troubles (Scoliosis, hip maligned, etc) to show that I understood what she was going through and her first response made me cringe so badly I’m thinking she might have noticed.
“You can get disability for that, you know?”
“I know but I don’t want it.”
“Why not?”
“They’d put a weight lifting limit on me and all kinds of other things I don’t want to deal with.”
“Not necessarily…”
I shifted the conversation away at that point. She new and I don’t know her well enough to confide in her but the truth of the matter is I don’t want to be labeled. Labels don’t matter to anyone unless you make them matter but if I see that on paper “Disabled” it will matter to me. I hate when people ask me to lift the glass racks at work. Most people just assume I can’t because I’m so tiny but some of them still ask me from time to time and I can’t just say “I can’t”. It doesn’t work like that and eventually I have to tell them I have such and such wrong with me, even if I’m vague it’s a mouthful.
Then when they offer for me to eat something, whatever’s been cooked for the buffet, if I decline they always ask me why. Once more this is a curse on my size, too many people think I’m anorexic and it bothers me terribly so once more- I feel I have to explain why I can’t eat such and such, once more even vaguly it’s a mouthful.
When I suddenly have to sit down and take a break or I turn on the fans in the dish room, it’s cause I can’t breath or when I have to run off suddenly to se my inhaler. I hate when people use their ailments as excuses, my mother always did it and encouraged me to do the same for much of my life, even going as far as telling me to pretend I was ignorant so I could get into the easy classes at school. It’s terrible and every time I have to explain myself I feel like I’m doing the same thing even though I know I’m not. I feel like everyone is going to see me as a hypochondriach and though I don’t tend to care what others think… it bothers me each and every time.
*sigh*
I’m also getting absolutely fed up with people commenting on my weight. I’m skinny, yes. I’m not anorexic. Not I don’t give a crap if you think I’m lucky and no I don’t give it a crap if I am and finally NO, I will not be wishing my metabolism was the same as now when I’m thirty because genetically speaking in my family my stature is not going to change and NO I don’t feel like telling each and every darn person that over and over again.
I’m tired of hearing it, it’s always the same no matter what they say.
“Oh, my gosh, how do you stay so skinny?”, “You don’t have an eating disorder do you?”, “My arm is like two of yours!”, “Wow, you’re so tiny.”, “You’re so lucky, I wish I could be your size” I hate that one a lot considering most doctors believe me to be malnourished, “It muse be so easy to shop for cloths.” yeah, I have to shop in the children’s section, and the ever famous “Have you gotten checked for worms?” when I explain that if I don’t eat for a whole day I can lose up to three pounds (tested and proved when I had to fast before giving blood one day).
I’m ranting but I’m just so sick of it. Anyways, I feel terrible and I just wanted to get that all out of my system. Normally this stuff doesn’t bug me but I feel so uncomfortable in my own body and other people are making me feel worse. The ailments are one thing but when people keep ragging on me for my weight… enough is enough. I want to start wearing a sign around my neck explaining it all so people will shut up and stop asking me. I want to look in the mirror and not believe others see me as a skeleton. I want… I don’t know what I want. I want to be happy in my body and I want the curve in my back to go away, I want my hip to no longer stick out, my teeth not to be crooked, my bones not to jut out. Not because others want me to be that way but because others have made me want to be that way.
But most of all I want to be happy again with how I am and I can’t do that with people constantly telling me… *sigh*
Good night.
