An animal, a demon, and a monster walked into a bar…

Wow, looking at my last post, I’m fairly embarrassed. All I wanted to do was get an entry made, but because I was so out of it, what you got was a garbled mess. I’m not going to delete it, though; you’re getting my real, authentic life.

The frustrating thing is that while I have days like that, I also have days where I feel fine. Almost, dare I say it, normal. Even, occasionally, strong. That is, until I try to do something more strenuous than walking five feet. Some days, I can take the stairs one foot per step (albeit slowly and with canes). Other times, I can barely get by scooting up and down on my butt. Days when I can tell you how fickle my health is, and describe , in great details, its oscillations. Moments when I struggle to find the most basic words, up to and including my own name.

Accepting the vicissitudes of my health has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I don’t think I’m 100% there yet. I still get disheartened and sullen when I can’t do what I’d planned or wanted to do. I resent needing to sleep away the better part of two days, waking only long enough to pee and eat. I feel stymied by muscle cramps and convulsions.

Ok, so I’m definitely not 100% there yet.

The internal barrage I get from the Anxiety Animal doesn’t help. It’s a constant refrain of why aren’t you getting up, why are you going back to sleep, why aren’t you doing something productive, why aren’t you at least arting if you’re not going to work, why aren’t you working, why aren’t you even trying, why, why, why, why aren’t you good enough? The Depression Demon often chimes in to tell me how worthless and pathetic I am, until the Manic Monster tackles him to the ground and insists that I must do all the things right now go go go go go go go gogogogogogogog.

It occurs to me that I might try drawing the Animal, the Demon, and the Monster, so I physical representations of them to which I can talk, and tell them each, when appropriate, to go to hell. I’ll have to ponder upon what they might look like. Any thoughts on what anxiety, depression, and mania look like from all y’all? Tell me in the comments!

Michelle Chamuel just got second place on The Voice, so it’s time to start season five. Which reminds me, another question for y’all: if I created a YouTube page (channel?) for my singing, would you watch? What songs would you want to hear? Put that in the comments too! I’m off to work on my hexies and watch people chasing their dreams.

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About krissjudd

30-something with fascinating health seeks blog for sporadic rambling, ranting, regaling, revivifying, and rabble rousing. Occasionally finds time to chime in with a rhyme. Knows when they're there with their noes about a nose. Brevity may be the soul of wit, but my soul yearns to milk every significance and nuance from the words with which I love to play.
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