My illness has a name..no, I have not been to a doctor (yet), but since both New Mommy, Sister Someone AND their children have all had the same disease (and we all have had it within a week of each other), I am going with what they were told. Apparently, Noro Virus (normally found onboard cruise ships and I never caught when I could afford to take cruises) is what I am suffering from. When I am not dealing with the nausea, pounding headaches, chills/sweats (I go from goose bumps to drenching sweat in 5 minutes or less) and explosive (I cannot stress that word enough) diarrhea, I am resting, half-heartedly watching a Desperate Housewives marathon and feeling badly about missing a day of work. Someone please tell me the last time that one happened?
So while I sit here listening to my stomach make ominous rumbling noises (while I cannot keep water down, I am so HUNGRY and anything I eat has about a 15 minute life span inside of me), I remember the last time I felt this badly, and to think it was self-imposed both scares me and makes me shake my head. So we all know that I have issues…right now, they are for the most part under partial control, but for the longest time they ran rampant and because they manifested in ways that were not obvious to me, I felt that I have always had a grip on them. We also know I tend to idealize the men I either want in my life or let into my life and NO ONE has been more idealized than Him. Now, more than four years later, I see what a cowardly asshole the man has always been and why Panel members thought I was suicidal.
The incident took place in 2009..exactly when, I have no idea. All I know is I was still unemployed and it was before him’s birthday so it was say in the late winter (February or March). I remember feeling completely useless, worthless and unwanted…interviews were not panning out at all, Reliable One was bitching again about paying the rent and all I wanted was to be held, validated and to feel something other than the negativity that had permeated my very being. I wanted to be with my lover but he was always too busy, too tired and all around unavailable. I was at loose ends and as much as people give sympathy and empathy…no one really knew how I felt or what I was going through. Trust me, I was not a complete fool (you may want to question that statement by the end of this post) and I reached out to my Panel, my mom and even talked to God…but I was still alone with nothing but time and no plans.
And then came the morning I pretty much decided to throw it all away and basically kill myself. Of course, I did not see it that way. The day started with two rejection emails from job applications and one interview cancellation as they had already filled the position…and one last email. From him. Breaking it off (again), saying it isn’t me, it’s him and I was a lovely girl, blahblahblah. And I lost it….I sat in my chair and cried forever. I cried and snotted until my head hurt and I was exhausted and I simply did not want to feel anything, anymore. So I got a shower, grabbed car keys and some money and went to cop drugs. One thing about trouble..no matter how long since you last met…it is so easy to find, and in its convenience lies its seduction. Love, happiness, money…one can work and search their entire lives and never find them…but trouble is always there. That is why so many of us get into it.
I went about my task with calm and cool…at that time it did not hit me exactly what I was trying to put into motion. I just wanted the pain and the hurt to stop and to be understood (when I say understood, I meant financially helped and sexually validated), not pitied. I went to the old neighborhood, made the necessary purchases (in addition to the crack, I needed paraphernalia to smoke it with) and came back home…and once everything was laid out…it hit me what I was about to do, and it struck me that perhaps this was not one of my better ideas. But, I had already spent the money on the stuff, I was still hurting and was determined that I was going to change THAT emotion. Common sense versus control issues…no contest. Control issues won.
However, I was not going to throw caution to the wind just like that…I made a bargain with myself. I would eat a sandwich first and if the food did not elevate my mood, that s when I would put my illegal purchases to use. Except the lunch meat I had was some fresh cut, deli meat I had purchased almost a month ago…it was slimy (which I rinsed off thinking it was some sort of grease) and it had a funny smell but I chalked it up to the broccoli in the fridge…and I proceeded to make my sandwich. It had mayo, tomatoes, banana peppers, cheese and the rotten turkey breast and smoked ham meat. I even got chips and soda to put with it…and I began to eat not knowing I had chosen to figuratively slice my wrists and bleed out slowly versus just putting the loaded gun to my head.
I soon found out that something was not right with that sandwich…after about 3 bites, I started sweating and feeling nauseous; after two more bites, it was as if the strength was just immediately drained from my body and after two MORE bites…the trots began. But still I ate because I had a deal with myself and I had to keep my end of the bargain.(Hey, it made sense at the time) I finally had to give up when my body said enough and began regurgitating the food and for 3 days, I was in a living hell. I could not move unless it was to go to the bathroom, the chills had me shivering and in the middle of an illness I gave myself, I realized that no way could I give up my home, my toilet, my telephone, my neighbors who brought me soup and ginger ale and crackers. In fact, I had totally forgotten about the damn drugs until I went into the kitchen to get a glass and saw where I had hid everything…and on the spot, I threw it all in the trash. I no longer had a need for it…between my control issues and that rotten lunchmeat sandwich, my mood had definitely been altered, along with other things.
I do not think about this story often, and if it weren’t for the virus, would not be thinking of it now. My Panel will not speak of it and we all know where the story is now…I will celebrate 11 years of uninterrupted recovery this year, him and I went on for another year with the verbal and emotional abuse before one if us had the sense to walk away and one lesson I learned from this is that nothing…absolutely nothing…is worth throwing away your blessings over. Not a job (or lack of one), not a man (or lack of one) and for sure…not an emotion. Step back, take deep breaths but never consider throwing in the towel.
Well, I am off now…the bathroom is calling me, then I am going to call out for a second day in a row and get some rest. Believe it or not, I am in the middle of writing about Officer Goodbody so look for that post soon. As always…thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…enjoy your day!