I'm NOT Crazy!!

I fucking hate doctors. Have I ever mentioned that on here before? Yeah. Hate them. And hate is a word I don't often use. Now, because they can't figure out what's wrong with me...I must be crazy, making it up, or someother syndrome that means they have no fucking clue what's wrong with me: therefore, it must be my own fault. My broken rib is hurting more and more each day instead of less, and the dizziness only seems to happen when the rib pain is present...the blackouts as well only seem to happen after the rib pain begins and shortness of breath takes over. So because they're dumb and can't figure out a cause, I must be crazy. As if it's an either or situation.

And I keep trying to tell them that I'm in A LOT of pain in my ribs, but they don't believe me because it's been so long since they got broken. Their mentality is that it should be almost healed by now so I shouldn't be in pain (yeah, I'm imagining that too). Trust me, I don't admit to feeling pain often and usually if I say, "I'm in a lot of pain" it means rush me to the ER. Even if I'm not crying or whining about it. Most people who know me well, know this. I hate pills, I never take them except in extreme situations. So the fact that I'm even taking anything at all means I'm hurting really badly, and the fact that I wish I could be taking more than what I am, means a lot! And all these fucking fakers around here who ARE just trying to get out of the Army, and keep coming up with more symptoms that can't be proven, make me look bad. Unlike them, I do NOT want out of the Army; crazy as it sounds, I like the Army. It was everything I thought it was going to be (good and bad).

And today, after I got back from a long day at a local miltary hospital, I tried to just eat my lunch and get ready for class, but I felt like I was gonna pass out, so I went to my platoon leader. They made me lie down in the company area for a few hours to "monitor me" and then let me come back to my room. But while I was down there, my commander made me start a log of all the days I've had symptoms and what they were.....so they can start a med board packet on me!!!! Which in case you don't know, will get me kicked out of the Army if it goes through.

Why so Real?

I dreamed about him last night, and then early this morning I was thinking about him and "remembering" listening to music with him and chatting. Seconds later, I realized I was remembering my dream, that it didn't actually happen. Funny that my memory processed it as real instead of as a dream. Wonder how often it does that, and I don't notice? And it doesn't matter really who the "he" is...it's the same no matter which way you slice it. Either way I miss him and he knows I miss him. *hears the sounds of many male minds wondering* Yes. It's you. Does it really matter?

In other thoughts: maybe the docs can't figure out what's wrong because it's not something wrong with my body, but rather, with my soul. The panther theory; I've now returned to the land of the non-panthers and it's killing me, damaging me, bruising me, but in a way that can't be tested even with "modern" medicine. What was so wrong with ancient medicine anyhow? Some ancient religions and cultures had it right: they didn't only try to find problems with our physical beings, but also with our spiritual beings, our energies. Where's a good medicine woman when you need her?

So...adapt? overcome? as the Army says or...??? What? What is the alternative? Continue to deteriorate? Somewhere in the middle of this whole ordeal that started when I first moved to the South...I lost the balance. Yes, me. I became totally Southern, and I liked it better. Interesting that I eventually chose a side. Interesting that I don't want to go back to the old way, the way I wanted so badly to get back to when I lived in Maine. Interesting that I'm resisting changing back sooo much that it could be affecting my physical health. Interesting that I'm getting used to it again, already. Which way will I go this time? Will I change back? Will my soul die? Will I find a way out? Will I become a strange hybrid? And worst of all fears, is this all the product of Him, not the gods, but him that follows me everywhere? The gods let this happen, no doubt, but why? Of course, the easy stupid-overactive-bible-thumping answer is: to make me stronger...but that's way to simple for my taste. Mostly though, because it doesn't explain anything. It doesn't explain the time shift, or the Man standing at my bedside, or my talking to my "not" unborn "not" full womb (that I know would have/should have been a dark haired blue-eyed boy), or how that that changed my perspective on Him (and not in a healthy way, sports fans), or the physical problems I've been having. Ah Ha!

I figured out what to rebel against again...and this time, it will ever be a worthy cause. And this time, he can't win! Go ahead and try to get in the way of a pagan, witch, Irish woman, goth who's got her mind set and is ready to rebel!

He ripped me away from those I loved and who could have helped me, to challenge me one on one, to get me alone to work on me on his own, to break me down and beat me through the back door to my world (get your mind out of the gutter), to make a desperate attempt to coax me into giving him what he wants--and he almost got it too. But by gods, he won't keep me here...not forever! With God's help, I'll get out of here...but this rebellion will require much sacrifice. And a lot more kicking back, a lot more aiming for the jugular.