Remember when I admitted that I wasn't a superhero? It doesn't seem like that long ago but honestly, it was ages ago because I don't remember making myself believe that. So, here I've been ... trying to fight drama and save the world one call at a time, one hour of overtime at a time. Yes, I still seem to think that I am superwoman or Batgirl (hee hee I first typed Bathgirl) and keep pushing myself forward. Onward and Upward! Don't stop or you won't be able to get back up!
I have to learn to knock that crap off.
My superhero cape is ripped, my magical superhero powers are malfunctioning, and I think my super cool superhero unitard is stained. Long story short? I am a damaged superhero. Or, I'm just not one and I need to quit the act and accept my fate.
I'm still trying to be everything for everyone. I didn't learn my lesson. Will I ever? Looking back at my life and knowing there is only one word people have ever used to describe me, stubborn, I am going to say ... No. I don't think I'll ever learn.
I'm still scared to death of ... death. But, I'm scared of not having control. So I keep pushing myself to the limit which could push me back into being really sick, which could push me close to that D-word. And yet, I still don't learn my lesson.
I'll admit it. I think I am mentally screwed up after typing that paragraph.
Even superheroes have flaws, if you think about it. Maybe that makes me a perfect candidate. Oooh, maybe I'll get some crazy superpower of eternal life. Oh wait ... I don't want that. Can you imagine? I'd have to be around forever and honestly, I don't think anyone ever really wants that. It's not all that it seems.
I'm getting sick. Not sure if it's just going to be a run of the mill cold or flu or if it is something completely different related to the bastard disease that I will have forever known as Wegener's. All I know is my ears are full of pressure, my throat feels thick, my chest is extremely tight, my body aches and feels incredibly fatigued. Stay home you say? Well ... if it's just a cold, I'm not calling in sick.
When you get struck down with cancer and Wegener's ... you don't call in sick for colds. You learn that sick time is precious and valuable and needs to be saved so that when your remission ends and you're sick again ... you have time on the books to pay the bills. Colds, headaches, etc ... those all become ineligible reasons to use sick time.
I'll wipe down and keep my germs to myself, so no one will worry about catching whatever I am getting. I'm smart. I cover my mouth when I cough, I use sanitizer. But colds happen and if I was sick every time I had one, there would be nothing left when something big happens.
Maybe it's another part of my OCD. The fear of not having enough sick time. Whatever it is ... I think I'm finally admitting that I am a busted up broken superhero who is mentally fucked up.