Awkward

I'm a freak of nature...or at least I feel like that sometimes. I have a mild case of agoraphobia and a wicked fear of crowds. Today I did something that triggered a massive anxiety attack and pounding headache. I went to a good friend's wedding.

I was ok during the ceremony, which was beautiful and I may or may not have teared up a little while my friend said her vows. Yeah, I cry at weddings (and funerals, and baptisms, and sappy movies, and basically anywhere someone else is crying). I have an image to uphold so pretend I'm not bawling while watching a Nicholas Sparks movie, m'kay? Thanks.

Where was I going with this? Oh, the reception. It was very nice and I'm positive there were a lot of awesome people there, but I wound up hiding in the bathroom for as long as I could stretch it out and popping two Clonnies.

That calmed me down enough to awkwardly talk to the pastor and his wife. They were extremely nice and didn't make strange faces when I said something loudly or laughed inappropriately. Pastors are great for us socially deficient people - very caring and kind.

Anyway, I made it through and am now headed home to put in jams and read a book about brain eating spiders (fiction).

Peace out ya'all.

I'm hangry...

I am starving.

I am on a “lifestyle change” and instead of being responsible and eating things like fruits and vegetables, I’m consuming a lot of my daily calories in lattes. It’s a bitch to be addicted to good coffee.

I would say the change is going well, but I’m stuffing cheese cubes in my mouth as I type this. Don’t judge me. Cheese has no carbs so I don’t have to do insulin.

Did you know insulin is a growth hormone? What the hell?!? What I take every day to keep myself alive also makes me extremely fat. Well, maybe the lattes and cheese don’t help. But I take a ridiculous amount of insulin to counteract the medication that makes me sane – worth it – so I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Or maybe I should eat some vegetables. Shudder. I like all the starchy veg – corn, peas, potatoes – so maybe I should learn to choke down a carrot or something. That might help with the weight loss. And I should probably lay off the lattes. They are delicious, and addictive, but I can overpower the siren call of sugar and caffeine. (Or I’ll replace it with Diet Mt. Dew. Again, don’t judge me. Diet Mt. Dew might be the most delicious caffeinated beverage out there – right up next to any Coke product.)

Damnit, I’m still hungry and it’s 4:45, so I can’t justify cooking dinner just yet. Fifteen minutes….I can make it. I hope.

If you don’t hear from me in a few days I’ve starved to death – send cheese cubes and Diet Mt. Dew.

I apologize in advance...

Hello. If you’re reading this, you probably know me. If not, congrats!!! You’ve stumbled onto my weird, wonderful world where I say fuck a lot, and try not to complain too much (which fucking sucks – see?).

So about myself: I am a Type 1 diabetic (no, cinnamon can’t cure it, neither can Jesus) which means I have an insulin pump and continuous glucose monitor; I have bipolar NOS which means I’m very fun at parties or not at all; I have celiac, or sprue for my European friends, which means no more bread, pasta or anything wonderful and cake like; I have fibromyalgia which makes my joints feel like they’re on fire all.the.time; I have carpal tunnel, to which I know you’re asking – how is she typing this? through the pain, bitches, through the pain; I also have diabetic neuropathy, which is not nearly as sexy as it sounds – loss of sensation in my hands and feet which is great when walking on coals but not so great on stepping on broken glass (thanks Hub for sweeping that shit up); I have PCOS - which really doesn’t bother me because I have a teenager and want exactly zero more children; I've got a handful of kidney stones rattling around that help to remind me that I am alive; and I have asthma, which is like God saying, "Hey, you know what you could really suck at? Breathing."

I live with the philosophical ideal of Dory: “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.” I also have crap memory, so that probably helps with keeping my head above water. My teenager takes full advantage of the crap memory by reminding me of things I never promised, “You said I could have $20 on Tuesday.” Shit, really? I don’t recall saying that, but I also can’t recall what I had for breakfast today. A gluten free granola bar? Oatmeal? Who knows? It’s a mystery.

I plan to use this blog to note the funny, the weird, the awful of being so sick. I don’t think of myself as sick until I see it all written down and then I think to myself, “I should be wrapped in a fleece blanket, with an endless streaming on Supernatural and the Walking Dead, and a mixed drink in hand. And maybe a monkey butler to do all the housework.” Then I realize I’m poor and I have to do all the shit myself, and that makes me want to drink. Damn. I didn’t realize I also had an alcohol problem. I haven’t drank in over a year, but I think about it constantly. Shit.

Anyway, thank you for stopping by my little world of weird and hope you enjoy the ride.