Having Lupus makes stress exponentially worse. I’ve agreed to do the diva dash (a 5k obstacle thing) and I have 3 months to get in shape. Last Sunday I worked out a little and the rest of the week was no bueno. Fatigue, body aches, soreness, cold sore, pressure in head, knots in my neck, random pains, stiffness, and general yucko feelings. In addition to the physical stress that happens to my body is the shananiganal emotional stress that may or may not be happening. I’m not sure. It’s subconscious. Maybe. If it’s there. I dunno. Probably maybe.
I wasn’t quite feeling up to taking the trip to visit the fam and make tamales. Okay, I didn’t want to put pants on. Whatever. Don’t judge. But I pants on’d and ventured out into the cold, cold world. I was feeling a little under the weather too. But I’m so glad I did. It’s cool not that I moved out that I actually enjoy visiting my family. My relationship with my mom is really good again. Pretty awesome.
Especially now that going home is like fucking christmas everytime! I’m totally loved and missed. My mom bought me Colonix 3 month detox kit thing (shit-tastic!), a lil christmas tree (2ft of fake cuteness!), some chicken and meat (free meals!), and she massaged the knot out of my neck (I can look over my left shoulder!). Granted, it wouldn’t be the most glam christmas but it’s the little things, right?
My cousins had some big announcements. C is betrothed to her boyfriend of 7 years and J is moving to Okla-fucking-homa to live with some dude she met on the internet. I am happy for them both. C will make a fantastic wife. And J is taking a leap of faith. I’m going to be the only one left. Single. No kids. I feel like my life is…pointless. I’m just moseying along through time and space.
Get married. Have children. That’s what we’re suppose to do, right? What if we don’t? Then we become the crazy cat lady on the corner. I dunwanna be a cat lady! I also don’t want to be stuck in a relationship that I’m in because I feel like it’s what I’m suppose to do rather than what I want to do. I am also terrified to have children and be a shitty mom. So then…what am i gonna do? Who am I gonna be? A fucking weirdo in the eyes of society, we all know that much.
Anyhow, despite all these cat lady fears I feel much better. I had a great visit with my family. We drank mimosas. I had skinny margaritas. Me and J smoke together. I ate the meat and chicken of the tamales with tomatoes. In other words, I did not binge. I did not purge. There were tamales and pan dulce, muffins, cookies and chips-OH MY!
I’m just gonna keep moseying and hope to stumble onto some magical treasures.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.