Hurting All Over
Oh God.
I can feel it starting.
The whole please-strike-me-dead feeling, which makes me think that dealing with the onset of PMS, with the depression and wild mood swings and wahtnot, is a walk in the park compared to all this physical crap that I go through once a month. I mean, on a good month, all I feel is bloated and cranky. But this? This makes me feel like I'm going through heroin withdrawal.
And to make matters worse, it's bloody raining.
I can feel in my bones that I'm going to wind up one of those old broads who has arthritis one day. And I'm feeling so fucking cold that I can't seem to stop shaking --- which just makes me seem jittery and high.
Okay.
Think about something else.
Um...I'm reading "A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey. God. I've never done drugs, but I get what he's going through. Lucky me. I get to go through this once a month without having to abuse drugs or alcohol. My body just does this to me...and it makes me feel intensely sorry for myself.
I can feel it starting.
The whole please-strike-me-dead feeling, which makes me think that dealing with the onset of PMS, with the depression and wild mood swings and wahtnot, is a walk in the park compared to all this physical crap that I go through once a month. I mean, on a good month, all I feel is bloated and cranky. But this? This makes me feel like I'm going through heroin withdrawal.
And to make matters worse, it's bloody raining.
I can feel in my bones that I'm going to wind up one of those old broads who has arthritis one day. And I'm feeling so fucking cold that I can't seem to stop shaking --- which just makes me seem jittery and high.
Okay.
Think about something else.
Um...I'm reading "A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey. God. I've never done drugs, but I get what he's going through. Lucky me. I get to go through this once a month without having to abuse drugs or alcohol. My body just does this to me...and it makes me feel intensely sorry for myself.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home