They say that ever silver lining has it's cloud. . . This blog is the cloud. It's all the dark stuff that doesn't shine right when I try to show off my silver lining.
All I have for comfort right now is sex and sleep. I am uncomfortable all the time that I am awake. I am swollen and ugly and the only things that help are sex and sleep.
Food always makes me sick. There is no point to eating anymore. It makes me nauseous or swollen or it makes my stomach pain. There is no point to eating. It only hurts.
Reading is hard and difficult again. I can't seem to concentrate on the words long enough to make them a coherent thought and when I can I forget the words or meaning by the time I am on the next paragraph. It takes me probably three reads through a paragraph before I can retain it but even then it's more work than fun and often times my head spins or my eyes swell to not working so that I physically can't read. It takes all the fun out of reading.
I can write, when I can make my mind work, but I don't have anything good to write. All the things I truly feel only make others upset. No one wants to here that I'm barely making it, no one wants to hear that I don't like myself at the moment, no one wants to hear my inner thoughts. They only hurt and I don't like hurting.
I can't listen to music, either the beat matches aythmically with the wooshing in my ear and drives me nuts or I can't make heads or tails of it because of aforementioned brain fog.
The only things left are sleep and sex and both of those have been denied.
I started this blog to keep track of the times when I had those mysterious episodes of extreme muscle fatigue and/or feeling paralyzed. I haven't done a good job of keeping up with that. For a while I allowed my deeper fears, my inner medical terror to show up here and in doing so I showed my soul, bared it for the whole net to see, but then I shared it and in sharing it I learned I had to censor what I say because people misread it or they use it against you and I began to say vague things of what I really meant then I began to quote others so that I wouldn't have to say it, so it wouldn't be my thought, and then I began to just not say anything at all.
I like the way I express myself when it's true, real, the inner workings of my soul. The problem is I'm terrified to show that to anyone, myself included.
I started this blog to keep track of the times when I had those mysterious episodes of extreme muscle fatigue and/or feeling paralyzed. I haven't done a good job of keeping up with that. For a while I allowed my deeper fears, my inner medical terror to show up here and in doing so I showed my soul, bared it for the whole net to see, but then I shared it and in sharing it I learned I had to censor what I say because people misread it or they use it against you and I began to say vague things of what I really meant then I began to quote others so that I wouldn't have to say it, so it wouldn't be my thought, and then I began to just not say anything at all.
I like the way I express myself when it's true, real, the inner workings of my soul. The problem is I'm terrified to show that to anyone, myself included.
I watched a rather interesting show on manifesting during the PBS fundraising drive today. I'm not sure I buy into everything the speaker said, but I bought into some of it and I find I'm thinking it over, mulling the ramifications if I were to make such adjustments in my life. It's keeping my mind somewhat occupied and I like the idea of having deep thoughts again. I like pondering.
There's nothing more to say. Nothing more to explain. I'm not sorry for what I've done. Only sorry that it hurts. I'm sorry for the look in your eyes. I'm sorry I can't be the one. I'm sorry I didn't leave back then, during the coma, back before any of it happened, back when I was still the perfect one. I should have left it then. . . Left it all for you to remember just the way I was. To remember me before the moodiness, before the change, before the lies, before the disappointment. Before the scars were reminders of a life ruined. I'm sorry I didn't die then. I apologize for my existence.
Sometimes is never quite enough
If you're flawless, then you'll win my love
Don't forget to win first place
Don't forget to keep that smile on your face
Be a good girl
Try a little harder
You've got to measure up
And make me prouder
How long before you screw it up
How many times do I have to tell you to hurry up
With everything I do for you
The least you can do is keep quiet
Be a good girl
You've gotta try a little harder
That simply wasn't good enough
To make us proud
I'll live through you
I'll make you what I never was
If you're the best, then maybe so am I
Compared to him, compared to her
I'm doing this for your own damn good
You'll make up for what I blew
What's the problem...why are you crying
Be a good girl
Push a little farther now
That wasn't fast enough
To make us happy
We'll love you just the way you are if you're perfect
Saturday, October 30, 2004