After tossing and turning for hours I decided to take a sleep aid last night about 2am. I reasoned that it wasn’t a work night (although if we’re being honest I still call them school nights in my mind), I could sleep in, and I wouldn’t end up staying up all night. It didn’t kick in until 3am or so. I passed out hardcore.
At 9am I felt someone staring at my not in any way attractive but peacefully sleeping form. I dislike being looked at. Especially lately.
I am currently doing epic sword clashing battle with a flare-up of extremely not-at-all-fun atopic dermatitis (often labeled eczema). Skin stuff, so what, right? Well. When one has an immune system that panics as strongly as mine does this equates to the skin on 90% of my body erupting into these delightful red ulcerated areas that itch like hell. In some areas, the inflamed areas gang up into little groups to have what I can only assume are gang wars for turf on what’s left on my body. My entire body aches, itches, burns, and the affected areas are extremely fragile so if I so much as breathe they break open and bleed. Which makes them itch.
I’m pretty sexy.
Thankfully my doctor prescribed a brand spanking new treatment that will hopefully calm my immune system down. It takes time, so in the meantime, I’m on fairly high doses of prednisone. Roid rage is real yo. Also, roid swelling is real. Also, roid appetite. I am STARVING. ALWAYS. So what little of my jaw bone and waistline I’d recovered from my lack of sugar before the holidays is now firmly squished into its comfy layer of fat. My eyes have disappeared again. My cheeks ate them. It’s just a cool thing they do.
Then I got sick. I have one hell of a cold that turned me into a snot factory. So. Um. Yeah. What tiny little bit of self-confidence I was clinging to has been completely destroyed. I’m a mess. Just a snotty, hacking, oozy, fat mess.
No place to go but up, right?
So when they finally got all the medication figured out and I was given the initial two injections. One common side effect is eye irritation. I now look like a demon with bright red, squinty eyes. I am winning.
So back to this morning. I feel his eyes on me. I rolled over to hint that he should go away. He got up, chatted with the dog who was loudly dancing, and after taking 15 forever’s to loudly brush his teeth they finally left. I settled into some seriously good dozing without distractions.
After 3.6 seconds the door slams open and he’s stomping in jabbering about the fact I need to get up. He happily warbles some garbage about me not being able to sleep tonight if I don’t hurry up and get up. Not that he knows anything about that because he falls asleep as soon as he lays down, but whatever, I’m not bitter. I tried to ignore him but he zipped all the blinds open and jumped onto the bed.
I sat up to glare at him but he shoved mail into my lap completely unconcerned.
I tried to keep glaring but my eyes hurt. Blinking hurt. Sleep would feel so freaking good. I tried to lay back down but he turned on the tv and an obnoxiously loud comedy came blaring out.
I was forced to leave the room to find coffee so as not to murder him. It would have been so satisfying, but I don’t want to be homeless just yet. With my record, that’s on the agenda to complete my transformation into disgusting, but I want to wait until it’s a bit warmer before heading that direction.
Add to the list of grievances, we had a conversation in which I had to explain to him (and to his mother in a separate, also mortifying, conversation) that Victoria Secrets doesn’t make clothes/underthings for my water buffalo size self. They should, we like buying over-priced clothes as much as anyone else, but unless you want to buy ridiculously overpriced perfumes or lip balms, my type of body can’t shop there. And his mother always sends me gift cards that I feel are a very thoughtful gift but not terribly useful.
No one should ever have to say to anyone MY ASS DOESN’T FIT INTO ANYTHING THAT COMPANY MAKES. ANYTHING. EXCEPT, LIKE, SOCKS. AND THAT’S PROBABLY STILL A RISK.
I know I’ll be less melodramatic and full of a bit less disgust once I’m off the prednisone and the diet gets rolling and I start to see some results, but today I am full to bursting of self-loathing. Just a big pile of suck.
Things that made me angry/want to cry/think about smacking everyone on the planet Louise style:
- I use a lot of coffee creamer and I get judged. Not that anyone judged me today, no one was even in the kitchen when I poured excessive amounts of creamer, but I remembered that I do get judged because I abuse it and that just set me off. Rational, right?
- Pork chops in the fridge have gone bad and a pig died for nothing.
- The stabby bushes out front are ugly and stab me and I hate them and Mancandy sees no reason to spend money on making the house look nicer nor less stabby. I think he has a lovely house and he should make it look nice, our home should feel and look like a home. He could not care less if it looks like a yard sale inside and some sort of hodgepodge mess outside. The stabby bushes threatened to make some serious rage waterworks happen.
- My slippers aren’t downstairs. Downstairs has the hardwood floor. I have no idea where my slippers are, but they aren’t here and this is where I need them and I’m full of rage.
- I tripped over the cat and I feel pretty certain it was a murder attempt….ergo the cat hates me. So much angst at this one.
So there ya have it. I’m a mess today. And if you can’t be not-a-mess you should at least be able to acknowledge your ridiculousness. Right after you have a meltdown because you have the wrong scent shower gel in the shower and LIFE IS RUINED.