Writing Words With the Tips of My Toes
My lower eyelids are white. Beneath my tongue is white. Sometimes my nail beds turn blue. I become unnecessarily cold at strange moments. Fatigue is my constant friend. Two hours of napping each day is a requirement. Taking supplements is necessary, though they seem to do nothing. Concentration is at 50%. Weight decreasing into a thinness I frankly like. Hemoglobin levels not good. Vitamin D and B12 not good. Appetite decreasing. Desire to truly live my life, diminishing. Situational irritability rising. Sadness overwhelming me in tarry quicksand. Depression being leaked into me through IV lines.
At least I’m still exercising. At least my muscles are still there. At least I’m still here.
Stars, I’ve been struggling for about a month with a bout of anemia brought on by strange vitamin deficiencies that frankly make no sense to me. I’m becoming apathetic to anything good that can possibly happen, including receiving a contract for When Stars Die. Becoming team leader at work is an already small thread being stripped, piece-by-piece.
I’ve had to take an indefinite leave from work because it is IMPOSSIBLE for me to work at peak performance and make leads and sales that give me decent money. My job is a high-energy one. When I had to leave early, I was exhausted, lightheaded, and I felt like I was going to pass out. I had to have my mom drive me home from work in my car while Dad followed in his truck since Mom was driving me to my fiance’s house. I crashed there for a 2-3 hour nap.
I’m still trying to live. I truly am. Yet, exercise is that only thing that makes me feel alive. My heart pounds, my body loves the balance jogging gives me for ballet, as I’m no longer sore after dance classes due to jogging. I just want to keep running and running and running on the treadmill, but I know I’m going to need a nap later. I need one now, but I’m waiting for my phone to charge so I can listen to my Youtube playlist while jogging.
This is no fun. This is miserable. The snowball effect is still continuing for me. Mixed manic episodes, sexual assault, victim blaming, suicide watch, car wrecks, fractured toe that won’t fully heal, a horrendous fight that left me screaming to die and cursing my assailant, heartbreak over my former boss, like a mother to me; hypomanic episode; cutting; and anemia–sometimes wishing for death.
People talk about how life always throws something crappy at you. I wonder if they know what they’re talking about. If that’s true, what’s the purpose of living if you’re always fighting, claiming all this crap makes you stronger? Is that all living is, enduring pain while knowing it’ll make you stronger? What kind of life is this? If that’s all life is, I do not want it. I don’t expect life to be a Sun that never dies, but I expect life to treat me kindly more often than not.
That’s all I ask. That’s not what I’m being given.
What’s next? I was hoping 2015 would bring me something promising, but it’s looking as bad as 2013.
I wish I could say something positive. I truly do. However, I can at least say I KNOW I am loved.