...cradle your head in your hands, and breathe...
dudes. my dad just made me cry on the phone.
actually he didn't. he just happened to be on the phone when I felt like crying. we were discussing my FAILURE TO BREATHE. He told me I needed an air purifier.. i tried to explain.. i'm smart, i'm a troubleshooter. I know how to sense a trend.. this shit is random... and.. and...
..you always know you're telling the truth, when someone is badgering you, albeit goodnaturedly, and with all the things your brain wants to say, to sound reasoned and thoughtful and grown up, when the thing that falls out, in a flood of tears:
"I'm afraid of it not working!"
and the tears came (and they have come again).
I'm afraid to find out what's wrong with me. Afraid of every possible outcome: That Tennessee is making me sick, or that I'm just sick in general. or that I'm crazy and it's all in my fucking head. Or that I'll be doomed trying to live with it, with no diagnosis of What. It. IS. Because I can't leave Tennessee, and I can't be a sickly person, and I can't be crazy! I lose. every single outcome of this is failure of my body or my mind, and a sad future of sickness or drugs. or if nothing changes, sickness and drugs.
This isn't supposed to happen to me. I work so hard.
(and god, there are so many people out there with real problems, why am i crying? over this???)
back to the docs, I guess.
Comments
You're crying over this because you AREN'T other people, you are your own good self and you have every RIGHT to cry over your own problems. I struggle with that whole downward social comparison thing too, and you know what I realised? Ain't nobody homeless or cancerous or otherwise afflicted out there crying for my crazy, bipolar, suicidal, self-destructive ass because it ain't their ass. You must cover your own ass. And help those you can help when you can. But your issues are just as valid as anyone else's. We ought not to compare. Life doesn't need to be a pissing contest.
And out of the options you've discussed, I hope it is all in your head because that would be the easiest to solve. Seriously! And it wouldn't have to involve drugs. If you find out you are crazy let me know and I will tell you the secrets to make psychosomatic illnesses disappear. Won't cost you a dime. :)
*hugs* to you.
There is an answer out there somewhere. Can you believe that there is an answer? Maybe you find the best specialist in your area, or region. If people aren't helping, get better help.
And not to sound freakishly new age or anything, but grief is expressed in the lungs, the chest. Which just means, if you are homesick or lonely or adjusting to a new life, you may be more suseptible to lung issues. And if you already have lung issues, they become more pronounced until you heal. You may always have problems breathing in Tennessee, but your immunity isn't 100% when you are going thru adjusting to change. Which just means you have a bigger chance of having issues: breathing issues for you specifically. Just something to think about...
I know, I know... it sounds freaky. I've seen it happen with my son though. And it makes sense. To me, that is. :)
The sooner you find out, the sooner you can do something about it and feel better.
(Sorry. I'm paranoid about undiagnosed medical shit, especially where breathing's concerned.)
I'm pretty drug-averse; hate doctors, hate hospitals, hate taking medicines.
But asthma attacks are most unpleasant, and I'm not interested in dying any time soon.
Right now, I appear to be suffering from pneumonia. I've spent most of the last week in a major-league drugged stupor. It really sucks. It doesn't suck as much the pneumonia symptoms do.
With any luck this was coherent. It probably wasn't. Still on the heavy-duty meds.
yeah i know. like i said before, i feel guilty complaining about this minor ailment. Obviously it could be worst.
I'm sorry you're feeling bad! do you have enough soup?
*hug*