Reactions

So, Saturday night, bottom of left eye swells to a balloon, severe stomach cramps, bleeding, left eyelid swells, hives form all over body. Heart racing. I know something is wrong. Dave rushes home, leaves work, takes me to emergency room. I can barely see now, and I am in a walking fetal position. Get to hospital - they look at me, take me right in. IV's, epipen, steriods, the works.

NO Idea how this happened. Doctors baffled. Me, now drowsy and in and out from drugs...not the kind of drugs I want to be in and out from either.

Point of story. I was scared. Not only from this allergic reaction, but the reactions of my friends and family. I know I looked like Sloth from Goonies but to know that this could happen with no control over when and why...this leads to bad reactions.

We have already established that I have a tendency to have a problem with control, this was no bueno.

Now, my face is still slightly askew, and I know on wednesday I should find out what happened...but the thought of these type of reactions happening at any given time could very well be the death of me as I know it.

Red Patent Leather Shoes

I have an addictive personality. There, it has been said. I have thought about this often. And sometimes I tend to disagree with myself as I really have an addiction to control. One immense addiction.

Control is my gateway addiction. Because of it I either shop or don't eat. Because of control I often look like Oprah bouncing up and down with my weight. Because of it, when I am fat Oprah, I have awesome shoes. Shoes I will never wear. Awesome shirts that look great on me and again, that I will never wear. I have around 16 pairs of black slacks. About 19 pairs of jeans. Over 13 pairs of various tennis shoes.

And I just went down a pant size.

Which addiction do I have now?

I looked up addiction, because I thought to myself...could addiction be a good word...could I be addicted to exercise, or philanthropy....or donating toys for tots...

Positive addiction: where the benefits outweigh the costs. So YES!!! There is the possibility of it being positive. What fun is that?

I would be semi normal if that were the case. With my negative addiction, I am normal. The one time I am so confused on which type of normal I want to be.

The point of all this is yesterday I went and I bought myself some red, patent leather peep toes high heeled shoes. Shoes I will probably never wear but they were so cute! Glossy and shiny and red.

Addicted.

And I just went down a pant size.

Control. Ugh. Sigh. Arms in air.

Its not that I need it. I just need something to shock me. To be normal. To be consistent. Instead of my mind racing and going back and forth and what is right and what is wrong and how am I living my life and is this love real and why do I always run and why why why??!!

Deciding that hummus is my new best friend (and peppers) or that I must have those red patent leather peep toe high heel shoes...well, much simplier. (Is that a word?) Much easier. My breathing slows down and I can look at myself in a different sort of restlessness.

Addiction. Control. Going hand in hand I think.

He has never said he loves me. And I have no control over that.

OK, here I go

I started something like this before. On live journal. Didn't happen. I don't even know if this will be for myself, or for others. The point of blogging is what, exactly? To benefit all you know, including yourself? What if that is the problem?

This day, this point in my life..daily confusion. Weekly cries. Depression is not the correct definition of my woes. Indifference? Complacency?

I was told last week my soul is new. That's why I want to explore and my mind runs crazy with thoughts...because my soul has not lived. I've been thinking a lot about that. My soul is new, is young, has not lived. Who decides that? When does my mind and my soul begin to connect because I don't think that is anyones position to say, except for me.

I was told that I am restless. A free spirit. Again, I must disagree.

Restless by definition is unable to stay still, or quiet. "I want friends that will leave me alone when being alone is all that I need". I am not restless. I am tortured.

Tortured: anguish. Agony, to pervert or distort something physically or mentally. My minds distortions, maybe this is why I put pen to paper. Hand to keyboard. Keyboard to screen.

A free spirit. Now, this accusation - I don't know how to take. A nonconformist. Someone with a highly individual attitude or imagination. Someone who acts irresponsibly. One who is not restrained. I could fit some of those on most days, and I could fit some of those on other days. What does that mean?

Definitions of words amaze me. They have these books and online services that tell you what those words mean. They are labeled as nouns, verbs, pronouns. And when we use them in complete sentences, everybody knows exactly what we are talking about.

Except in poem. Because art is subjective. So then it allowed to say, "Your pain is a thorn in my life" and we all know that that truly this man does not literally have a thorn causing him pain in his life.

I use words to fit my moods or my thoughts and they say, "thats not correct".

Maybe I am choosing to live my life in poem.