(I'm alright just a pity party)
DUDE.I am so fucking done with my body. In the horse world there's a term called road hard and put away wet. And that's exactly what I have done to myself.
In order to function the last couple years I've used prednisone.
To the point where I've killed my adrenal glands LOL, and I'll never get off of it.
My thyroid's been radiated and I have to take a replacement forever which is never fully compensated for the natural hormone.
And because of my hyperthyroidism, my cholesterol runs high like in the 500 highs. It also causes my blood sugars to run high.
Fully diagnosed with diabetes now. Metformin and weak muscles from polymyositis DO NOT MIX.
So I'll be coming off of that.
I find it funny as heck that my early life I spent trying to stop my brain from killing me. LoL. And now the rest of me is trying to kill me too.
This body and I have been at war forever. And now I have even more ways I can kill myself. Like slowly if I take myself off my thyroid medicine. Or fast if I stop taking my prednisone.
When I went to go take my Cimzia shot that treats the rheumatoid arthritis. I told them that I feel like I was dying.
And as usual they ran labs they're all fine.... Because my body effing hates me. My CBG was high, and the usual flags for inflammation.
So I put myself back on the metformin I'm supposed to be on but I don't take because it makes my muscles weaker, and let me tell you this incredibly hard to get this old cranky body to do anything anymore... So I really, really didn't want to do that.
Not to mention metformin makes me, I don't know... dumb? Like I feel it sucks away 50 IQ points.
I'm just ready to be done. Like a wrap up everything and just go to bed and pull the covers over my head.
I really don't have anything more to add to this planet. I have lived an incredibly interesting life for someone as dull and boring as I am. My children are grown. I stay for my incredibly loving and kind husband. And for my children.
But sometimes that's just not enough. The living doesn't outweigh the pain.
I'm a broken racehorse three quarters away around the track with my leg shattered. Standing there heaving trying to catch my breath as the bones crunch and splinter turning my leg into mush. Blood dripping from my nostril mixing with the sweat and foam.
I know my work career is literally one...one ...one twist away from putting my back out completely.
I can't retire until I'm 62.
That's one year and 4 months.
That's a really really long time, to hold your breath.
To balance on one foot...
to run away from the monsters on pulverized muscles that can't even walk up the stairs.
