it seems that after a email spewing, I'm too wiped to re-edit the words that I have sent to fit into this blog - so I'll just copy and paste for now...
What's new girl?
I've spent the last two weeks on an emotional rollercoaster - found out that my meds for my ulcer were causing me to go fucken full blown manic/depressed. A little sleuthing on the internet found an obscure article in medical jargon that what I suffered from was in fact because of (all things) Zantac. Yep - less than 2% of the population - that's me. Despite my doctor's reassurances that this would not happen (happened with Prylosec, losec, Nexium - all those stomach meds) he was wrong - so back to square one - bland foods, trying not to stress and Denis and his bad tasting Chinese medicine...
my aunt is doing worse - she decided on the chemo but my uncle says it's perhaps a matter of weeks, not months.
It didn't help that I was manic and wired shooting to hell and back during the news. I'm fighting like you would not beleive to keep thoughts of cancer and dying at bay...
wait a minute - the anxiety monster was in you two.
My question to Gayle (if I can get in touch with her is) - how do you cbt death?
I've tried and tried, but my brain is like a taut piano wire - resisting reason. I am getting physically drained from trying to reign the monsters in. I breathe, let them pass but like a haunted house - they pop up in the most unlikely places, always around the corner. There is a glitch in the system and I can't find the exit...
my selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors are not doing their job...
some neurotransmitter is taking an extended lunch...
but E has been a dream through this whole thing. Despite him shutting between BF nowhere California and New York state, he has been my only constant. How strange it is for me to look back on my shitty mistakes. Even the art I produced as a result makes me uneasy now.
How strange is that?
this is not an email desperate for answers - despite its tone, just a checking in to let you know that I'm alive - shaken, broken, cold all the time, but alive.
I have to push myself to go out again - what are you doing this week? I'm home most of the time. Maybe I can come over and we can have fun with your new modern/fancypancy easy-bake oven...
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