“Must be nice to not have to work.”
Ok, I’m going to go off for a bit here and I might have to curse a little bit.
I hate when people say that to me. “Must be nice not to have to work” or “Why aren’t you working yet?”
Look, motherfucker. I didn’t win the lottery so yeah, I do *have* to work. But since I still feel like hammered dogshit most every day, I’m not working yet. I collect disability now and I don’t feel bad about it. Honestly, I think I kindasorta earned it.
Also, because when you work in an office, assholes come to work with 105 fevers because it’s better to be there than call in sick – or at least they think so. A 105 fever would put me down.
And gross, sick fucking people pick their noses, sneeze, snot rocket, don’t wash their hands and then touch things I might touch. Did you know that you have strep germs in your nose? A strep infection KILLED a friend of mine in 3 days. Staph could kill me. Pneumonia could kill me. Heck, a bad cold could kill me. Viruses, germs, fungal infections – no bueno. Welcome to my world of OCD-ness. It’s self preservation. It’s called immunosupressants. And if that makes me a freak of nature, so be it. I’m still fucking here!
I wish you could spend one day in my shoes to feel the pain that I’m feeling. Or the waves of nausea I get when I take all my meds every day. Or the inability to sleep because of pain, neuropathy, or just whathefuckever reason I can’t sleep. Or feel so tired that you sleep nearly all day and all night. The fear of relapse – I’m not even going to think about it, but it lurks in my brain.
I am fortunate that I was able to move in with my parents AT AGE 39 because I couldn’t afford to live on my own again, which I had been doing for OVER 20 YEARS when I got sick.
But you know what? I’m here. I’m still here.
I never say any of the stuff I’m thinking. I wish I had some cute, funny answer for those questions, but I don’t. I just can’t explain it all because I’m tired of talking about it. It makes me feel like I’m speaking whinese.
Mostly. The biggest thing. Is that I would trade it all back in .00025 seconds if I could. I’d go back to my boring job reading about toxic waste in a heartbeat if I could. Just to not have to go through what I did; to not have had to put my loved ones through all of this. My daughter was really tired the other night and was crying. She said she wishes we could go back to our old apartment and have things be the way they used to be. Try being strong through that.
I’m not working. It is what it is. I deal with it. I don’t like it, but it’s not like I really have much choice.
Ok. I have to go to the docs now. I don’t want to, but again. No choice.
I can do this. I have you.
For my enginerds. This was funneh!
Your assignment today is to tell me the clever answers I should give to these annoying questions.
P.S. I love you Goobertox!