Memphis (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} fuchsiafalling) wrote,@ 2007-11-25 19:06:00 |
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I haven't done this in a while.
Maybe I have nothing to say.
My life has gotten really scary.
Did I say life? Can I even call this living?
Fibro is everything I am now.
I wish I could say the pain is purifying.
Sunburn all the time, just under the skin. Like all my muscles are being ripped apart, fiber by fiber, shredded by the ants that chew my shoulder.
The same calf cramps I've had since I was little.
I quit working at my crappy desk job cos I couldn't handle the stress.
Had a little money from the dominatrix porn saved.
The producer offered me a job as his assistant, but after I got back from Boston, exhausted, and then hauled heavy shit up and down stairs while filming for 10 hours, I was a shaking wreck. So then he didn't want me to help with the shoots anymore and tells me he's making me affiliate manager. So now my job is to network with our affiliate sites and get them to post more links and thumbnails.
I'm not really happy about it, but I don't know what else to do. I have pretty much exhausted all my job opportunities. I'm too sick and tired to work, especially an eight hour day. When you consider that the normal amount of sleep I get when I don't have to get up is twelve hours, you understand why. There aren't enough hours in the day. So all I can do is sit in bed with the laptop trolling sites and sending emails in my Mistress Nicole persona. This isn't life.
I keep saying I am going to call Howard Brown and try to see a counselor. I need someone to tell me what to do. I don't want to work in porn forever. I want to go to school and be a nutritionist. I want to have a life that isn't just in bed, but increasingly it's harder and harder for me to be social without getting blind drunk. Unless I have weed, but that makes me so foggybrained. It's painfully overstimulating for me to be around large groups of people, and I'm starting to have trouble leaving my house. Once I do leave, it's easier, but it's hard to work up the inertia to reach escape velocity.
I'm thinking of applying for disability and trying to go back to school. And trying to get more meds. I'm getting suicidal from this pain and it is wearing me down.
I've recently met a lovely man who adores me and want to take care of me. The sex is tremendous and he's a Linux geek, so we have a lot in common. He loves that I've done nude modeling, tells me I am gorgeous and beautiful and hot every five minutes. I think I've finally gotten to the point where I can let someone take care of me, I just worry that he won't really understand how shitty I feel.
Last night we went to this wretched hipster bar, Rainbo, and it was so packed and loud and smoky that I started pounding drinks to try to numb myself into being friendly, which I did well at, his friends all approve highly of me now. I almost cried on one of them when I was explaining fibro. I hate having to explain it. It's horrible and awful and it's the oone thing that defines me now. Sick Girl. Broken Girl. Limping and crippled.
So that's my life.
Bed. Sofa. Laptop. Porn sites. Scared. Stressed. Broke. Don't know if I'll have rent on time.
Maybe I have nothing to say.
My life has gotten really scary.
Did I say life? Can I even call this living?
Fibro is everything I am now.
I wish I could say the pain is purifying.
Sunburn all the time, just under the skin. Like all my muscles are being ripped apart, fiber by fiber, shredded by the ants that chew my shoulder.
The same calf cramps I've had since I was little.
I quit working at my crappy desk job cos I couldn't handle the stress.
Had a little money from the dominatrix porn saved.
The producer offered me a job as his assistant, but after I got back from Boston, exhausted, and then hauled heavy shit up and down stairs while filming for 10 hours, I was a shaking wreck. So then he didn't want me to help with the shoots anymore and tells me he's making me affiliate manager. So now my job is to network with our affiliate sites and get them to post more links and thumbnails.
I'm not really happy about it, but I don't know what else to do. I have pretty much exhausted all my job opportunities. I'm too sick and tired to work, especially an eight hour day. When you consider that the normal amount of sleep I get when I don't have to get up is twelve hours, you understand why. There aren't enough hours in the day. So all I can do is sit in bed with the laptop trolling sites and sending emails in my Mistress Nicole persona. This isn't life.
I keep saying I am going to call Howard Brown and try to see a counselor. I need someone to tell me what to do. I don't want to work in porn forever. I want to go to school and be a nutritionist. I want to have a life that isn't just in bed, but increasingly it's harder and harder for me to be social without getting blind drunk. Unless I have weed, but that makes me so foggybrained. It's painfully overstimulating for me to be around large groups of people, and I'm starting to have trouble leaving my house. Once I do leave, it's easier, but it's hard to work up the inertia to reach escape velocity.
I'm thinking of applying for disability and trying to go back to school. And trying to get more meds. I'm getting suicidal from this pain and it is wearing me down.
I've recently met a lovely man who adores me and want to take care of me. The sex is tremendous and he's a Linux geek, so we have a lot in common. He loves that I've done nude modeling, tells me I am gorgeous and beautiful and hot every five minutes. I think I've finally gotten to the point where I can let someone take care of me, I just worry that he won't really understand how shitty I feel.
Last night we went to this wretched hipster bar, Rainbo, and it was so packed and loud and smoky that I started pounding drinks to try to numb myself into being friendly, which I did well at, his friends all approve highly of me now. I almost cried on one of them when I was explaining fibro. I hate having to explain it. It's horrible and awful and it's the oone thing that defines me now. Sick Girl. Broken Girl. Limping and crippled.
So that's my life.
Bed. Sofa. Laptop. Porn sites. Scared. Stressed. Broke. Don't know if I'll have rent on time.
