The tiny hat guy from Bizarre ER!
Showing posts with label Bizarre ER. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bizarre ER. Show all posts
Friday, April 13, 2012
Monday, April 2, 2012
Random Thoughts
I don't know if it is the weather, or an impending time of the month, or just plain bat-shit, but this has been a very bad weekend for me. I don't have a plan or anything, but more times than not, I just wanted to put an end to all of the bullshit.
If you have noticed, I put a link on the side entitled Suicide: Read This First. The page says "but don't give yourself the additional burden of trying to deal with this alone". Which is exactly what I am doing. I am holed up in my bedroom nearly most of the day with "kill yourself already!" running nonstop in my head like some goddamn broken record. I want to talk to someone. I want to talk to someone and spill my guts and cry until I dry out my tear ducts. But I don't for some reason or another. I don't want to bother the person. I don't trust the person enough. I don't feel like the person cares enough about me to even waste my time confiding in them.
I can't even look forward to going to bed anymore. Oh, it's fine once I am asleep (although the dream I had the other night severely depressed me, but a little too embarrassed to elaborate right now), but sooner or later, something (usually my bladder) will wake me up and then the emotional assault starts. Reminding me of all the things I have done wrong (which is basically everything), how I now have another employment gap in my resume that is going to prevent me from getting jobs and I am going to have to explain when I do actually get interviews, how I need to go to someone and am too afraid to put out the money, what am I ever going to major in with college, how a decade later I am not done school, being a 28 year-old virgin, what a horrible nasty person I have become, how even college graduates are having a hard time finding a job nowadays, how I can't deal with my digestive system problems anymore.
And then there is the never-ending list of "what ifs". What if I never find a job, what if a tornado hits this year, what if something happens to a loved one, what if this fear of Addison's is not going away because I really do have it and my body is trying to warn me.
What if this, what if that. What if, what if, WHAT IF?! It just never fucking stops. I swear, sometimes that idiot from Jersey Shore wasn't so dumb running head first into a wall, because there are days where I would like to run head first into the wall. Anything to make it stop!
And it amazes me how almost 6 months later, this Addison's fear is still not going away. I don't particularly understand why exactly I fear it so much because if you want the truth, if I was diagnosed with it, I would very likely not treat it, regardless of it being life-threatening. I'm too afraid of the side effects of taking steroids regularly (okay, I will finally admit that I am referring mostly to the weight gain) and I just know that I would hold myself responsible for developing it, despite there being no real known cause. The guilt would be overwhelming. And it's kind of sad that those two things largely outweigh the benefits of treating it, as well as my little regard for my own life, and I am willing to put my own life at risk over it.
Besides, how would I treat it anyway? I have no health insurance. And when I do get it eventually, I am sure the insurance will play the "pre-existing condition" game, even though I thought that was supposed to be outlawed.
On another note, I watched an episode of Bizarre ER earlier and the first story was about this man who superglued a small black sequined hat to his head. Many lols were ensued.
If you have noticed, I put a link on the side entitled Suicide: Read This First. The page says "but don't give yourself the additional burden of trying to deal with this alone". Which is exactly what I am doing. I am holed up in my bedroom nearly most of the day with "kill yourself already!" running nonstop in my head like some goddamn broken record. I want to talk to someone. I want to talk to someone and spill my guts and cry until I dry out my tear ducts. But I don't for some reason or another. I don't want to bother the person. I don't trust the person enough. I don't feel like the person cares enough about me to even waste my time confiding in them.
I can't even look forward to going to bed anymore. Oh, it's fine once I am asleep (although the dream I had the other night severely depressed me, but a little too embarrassed to elaborate right now), but sooner or later, something (usually my bladder) will wake me up and then the emotional assault starts. Reminding me of all the things I have done wrong (which is basically everything), how I now have another employment gap in my resume that is going to prevent me from getting jobs and I am going to have to explain when I do actually get interviews, how I need to go to someone and am too afraid to put out the money, what am I ever going to major in with college, how a decade later I am not done school, being a 28 year-old virgin, what a horrible nasty person I have become, how even college graduates are having a hard time finding a job nowadays, how I can't deal with my digestive system problems anymore.
And then there is the never-ending list of "what ifs". What if I never find a job, what if a tornado hits this year, what if something happens to a loved one, what if this fear of Addison's is not going away because I really do have it and my body is trying to warn me.
What if this, what if that. What if, what if, WHAT IF?! It just never fucking stops. I swear, sometimes that idiot from Jersey Shore wasn't so dumb running head first into a wall, because there are days where I would like to run head first into the wall. Anything to make it stop!
And it amazes me how almost 6 months later, this Addison's fear is still not going away. I don't particularly understand why exactly I fear it so much because if you want the truth, if I was diagnosed with it, I would very likely not treat it, regardless of it being life-threatening. I'm too afraid of the side effects of taking steroids regularly (okay, I will finally admit that I am referring mostly to the weight gain) and I just know that I would hold myself responsible for developing it, despite there being no real known cause. The guilt would be overwhelming. And it's kind of sad that those two things largely outweigh the benefits of treating it, as well as my little regard for my own life, and I am willing to put my own life at risk over it.
Besides, how would I treat it anyway? I have no health insurance. And when I do get it eventually, I am sure the insurance will play the "pre-existing condition" game, even though I thought that was supposed to be outlawed.
On another note, I watched an episode of Bizarre ER earlier and the first story was about this man who superglued a small black sequined hat to his head. Many lols were ensued.
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