I'm a bad person. I broke down and drank about a third of a can of Coke last night. Not because I was thirsty (even though I was, somewhat), but because I was having some soup for my dinner, and Cherry Gatorade really doesn't go well with chicken noodle. Trust me on this, I've made the mistake of combining the two and the end result was my head in a toilet bowl, vomiting profusely.
Well, I have mentioned before that I belong to a board that caters to some of my illnesses. To be quite honest I go there and read, but don't quite feel comfortable there yet. I think part of it stems from the irrational assumptions some of the members make just because we all share the same problems. Personally, I think some are self-diagnosed, which is scary in the first place. And then there is the gang mentality on some issues. Really, to be honest, it's a huge pity party and everyone is invited. I guess I expected more help, but instead I see more pitiful attempts for attention.
I get it. We all hurt. We all have problems. Yes, I enjoy someone who will dote on me from time to time. I don't, however, go seeking out a crowd of people to tell my sob story and hope I get a bunch of hugs and attention thrown my way. I prefer to be left alone. When it comes to my pain and health problems, I want help in solving them. What has helped others in their situations, what hasn't worked, and how I can use that information to try and help me. I just don't get the perpetuation of making the pain and suffering last longer just to maintain a flow of affection.
I have family members and know people like that. It's enough to drive a person insane. They live their lives convincing people they don't know, or anyone who will listen, that they have something wrong with them (for example, cancer or tourettes) but really are fine and have just made up an excuse for why they had to take an exam from a doctor or xanax for helping their panic attacks. Why do they do this? How the hell do I know. They're crazy as fuck!
Maybe they feel better when people fawn over them and their faux illnesses and diseases. Who knows. I don't get it. I never will. I choose to do my best to ignore, even when it is blatantly being waved in my face and I want to call bullshit out on the faker. But, I don't. As much as it would make me feel good, it does nothing in the long run to cripple the already dry husk of a shell that remains of a human being.
Oh well. There are more important things to worry about in life. Like cake. Cookies. And who is going to bring me some?!?
I'm craving something sweet, but I honestly don't know what I want. Maybe I should just make sugar cookies? Or just ignore the cravings and watch some TV. I'm so confused! I want and then I don't want. Stupid brain and stomach. Work together, damn it.
Preferably, I would hope they decide against the sweets and junk food. But, I never get what I want.
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