Tuesday, March 9, 2010


I whacked my head really hard on the corner of a shelf [because I am a horrible housekeeper and can't put shit away].

I just spent the past hour worrying about whether or not I have a concussion:
  • Are my pupils the same size? How can I tell when I look in the mirror and see it reflecting back at me???   Would my neighbor think I was insane for asking her to look at my pupils?  Probably.  Fuck.  Back to the mirror.
  • Am I nauseous?  Or is it hunger?  And what the hell am I supposed to make for lunch?
  • Am I losing consciousness?  Or am I tired? Or am I tired because I am losing consciousness?
  • Does one side of my body feel paralyzed?  Is my sinus paralyzed?  Or is it reacting to the fresh air from the open windows.
  • Am I dizzy?  Or am I persistently confused?  [Quick!  What's 7 x 7? Stuff she KNOWS!]
  • Am I having trouble walking?
  • Do I have a headache?  The contact point isn't hurting, but I guess I feel the faint traces of a headache.
  • Does my neck hurt?  Is it from spending the morning typing or is it from the blow to the head?
All of these things are exacerbating my anxiety by about 11skillion percent.  So I'm walking around, trying to get my work done, wondering if I should eat something or risk going down the stairs or wait!  I haven't checked my pupils in a while - must look and see how they are.

I know I should just start doing something physical [like clean. or go for a walk] and then I will forget about this [or I will die, you never know], but I hate when the anxiety gets such a strong foothold that it's almost impossible to shake. It makes it that much harder to move on from this crazy.  It's exhausting.

I'm going to go lay down.

Shit.  I can't.  I guess I'll make some lunch.  Because I don't think cleaning is good for a concussion.




  2. Hilarious - love 11skillion percent!


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