Monday, April 25, 2011

I see a light at the end of the tunnel. (This is your hero on Narcotics. Legal ones at that.)

I'm back to blogging again.  I know I took a while off, so most of my loyal readers are probably gone.  But I have noticed a few of my die hard readers are still here.  I want to thank you for sticking around when there was really no reason to.

I think this blog is moving into the uncomfortable realm of reporting my first person view of my hypochondria.  I apologize for that.  But I will try and keep it interesting and light hearted. A big bonus goes out to those readers who wonder what it is like to have general anxiety or panic attacks, if you keep reading you will find out.

I can tell you that it sucks.  The fear and dread we live with is not something that you can simply snap out of.  Believe me, if that's all it took I would.

For the first time in my life I am actually going out in the world and taking charge of the things in my life.  I am getting help.  I am changing my lifestyle to manage some of my illnesses.

For instance:

I now get up once an hour and walk around the house for a few minutes.  I read that sitting all day is bad for people.  It's especially bad for people who have been diagnosed with Diverticulosis.

I am changing my eating habits.  I am eating more fiber than I used to.  I am committed to making some dietary changes that are palatable to me, but which can be of help to me.  It will require some sacrifice on my end.  I will have to give up things like eating WhataBurger 6 nights a week.

That may not seem like a bad thing or even a big deal to you.  But many of you have lives.  You have things that interest you.  You have support systems and lovers and things like that.

I really don't.  I have no joy in my life.  The few things that actually give me joy are killing me.  I enjoy reading and the internet.  I love going out to eat at fast food.

I need you to understand this.  One of the very few things that get me through the day are eating fast food burgers and surfing the web on my laptop.  I day dream my way through work by thinking about these things.  I substitute having a real life with these preoccupations.

Why must I preoccupy myself in such a way?  I guess because I don't have much of an imagination about some things.  I can't think of things that can entertain me or add meaning to my life other than these things. I know what you are thinking. I am a small human being.  And I plead guilty to such accusations.

I think what gets me in trouble with you liberal types is that ruminate on things like meaning and the big picture.  Therefore; I think you think that I ought to come to the right conclusion.  That service to others is how we deal with our feelings of doom.

But not me.  I just can't fake that shit.  Intellectually, I can agree  with the idea that to escape our self preoccupations we need to focus on others.  But that answer is totally unsatisfying to me emotionally.

I remain a captive of my ego-mania.  My self concern.  This is not selfishness.  I hate selfishness.  I am not a selfish person. It's not so much that I am selfish, more like I'm a child, in the sense that I don't come equipped with a view of the world that is outside of me.

Speaking of that.  If I had lost the leg from the MRSA then I would have at least been able to get some pity pussy.  Don't you think?  Girls, do you fuck one legged men?  You should.  They ain't got it easy.

But I don't get pity pussy.  Even though I am pathetic.  I live in this weird world were every one feels sorry for me.  Somehow they all believe nothing is my fault, and in most cases there is nothing I can do to help myself.  But at the same time everyone believes the contradictory notion that somehow I should be doing better.  That I should be better looking.  More successful.

Actually I am pretty sure that's not true too.

The weird thing is that nobody notices me. Which if you like my personality on the blog seems weird, right.  Like I seem very outgoing and crazy.  Certainly worthy of some double looks.  But in person I often lack charisma.  It takes a long time for me to work my magic on you.  I am like a visiting parasite or virus.  I can lie dormant for years, then melt your insides like flesh eating virus.

And bitch.  There ain't no cure for me yet!

1 comment:

veach glines said...

I'm positively pretty sure that's all as not true as it can ever get (too).

Glad ta have ya back fer whut itz worth.