Believe in the Flowers.

Carol of the Zombie Jesus!

This is getting to be hard on me, physically and mentally. I think the mental part should be obvious - dealing with my mother, stress, the recent weather, getting started on my job, the list goes on. But my poor body's physical reactions to this have been just as unpleasant. I am exhausted, to a point I never would have thought possible. I want nothing more than to sleep for a week or two to try to feel like I'm beginning to catch up on all the sleep I've missed thus far and will miss in the future. I spend the day mildly nauseated, especially if I for whatever reason have some type of fast food for a meal. At night, I am thrust into the all-too-familiar realm of heartburn and acid reflux, and if I dare eat after dinner I suffer the consequences. Tonight, I was lucky; I had to get up, but I have yet to start hacking and choking on the acidic bile that has built up in my throat. The other night, not so much so - I woke up in a coughing fit, which is far more like the previous symptoms I suffered when this last afflicted me, some fifteen months ago. Granted, it is an occasional demon, but it has crept up on me for the last few days without warning and I haven't appreciated it at all. And no, for those of you who are screaming, "Wow, if this last happened when you were pregnant, then maybe you are!" I'd like to say that I've taken three tests and they've all been negative, and last time Colin knew before I did - and this time he has no premonitions. We've been preventing, to a not-so-dependable degree, through the charting method. I haven't been doing basal body temperatures because 1) I am forgetful and 2) I would probably lose the thermometer. At the moment, condoms are nearly not an option because they would likely make Mom uncomfortable to have about and we've no good way to hide them, and I am unable to use most forms of birth control: hormonal treatments have made me ill in various unpleasant ways and even the plain copper IUD gave me problems that made it pointless to continue using. I have taken this as my body's sign that it doesn't want to be messed with, and considering some of the symptoms I suffered (debilitating cramps, horrible migraine headaches when I have otherwise never had a migraine, incredibly heavy bleeding when I already bleed well enough on my own, thank you, etc) I have no intention of arguing with it. The NuvaRing was functional enough until I realized that I had not been given a pivotal piece of information: you are only to use it at a certain point in your cycle, and otherwise it not only may not be as effective, but it will shift your cycle in whatever directions it pleases, and it will take months to adjust itself. I no longer remember how long it has been since I stopped using the ring, but my cycle is still off-kilter and shifts by several days (backwards, usually, which I'd like to think means it's going back to its old tendencies of the beginning of the month) here and there. The acid reflux can usually be treated; it's partially my own fault for giving into temptation and proving my low willpower by eating after when I know I ought to as a rule. Granted, waking up and having to stay that way for upwards of an hour, if not two, is irritating. This is the second time I've been up tonight, and thankfully the first time was treatable by spending a few minutes upright and doing my best not to think about the lingering pain in the back of my throat. The second time I wasn't quite so lucky, and I was forced to get up. I feigned a visit to the bathroom to retrieve some Tums, and six wintergreen extra-strength chalk tablets later (yes, above the reccommended four max, I know) I am out in the kitchen on Colin's computer, typing this and downing a glass of milk (about 16 ounces). This is routine when I have acid problems; the Tums are always my first line of defense, although they rarely work, much less really help anymore. I always go for the milk next, because given enough time (and moo juice) I can typically fix the problem enough to go back to bed. I do my best to sleep on my left side, though it doesn't help much. One would think that these late-night excursions would keep me from going back to my old eating habits, but c'est la vie.

The weather has been another monster of its own. Thunderstorms left and right for days, now, and I'm getting downright tired of it. They keep me up late, get me up early, and wake me out of a dead sleep at all hours. If I'm already up for whatever reason, they gleefully keep me that way. I get the impression that I'm just having all my dislikes and irritations lumped on me at once for the pleasure of a giggling deity.

Moving is a seperate problem that isn't worth discussing right now, if only because I could gag just thinking about the massive amount of work left to do, and how I sincerely don't believe any of it will be done by our self-set July 1st deadline.

One more half-cup of milk should do the trick, I think. I still have to clear my throat, and when I do, I still get up acidic phlegm vaguely reminiscent of chicken egg rolls.