bender

bonus points if you know where this specific robot s from…

Lately I feel like I have the emotional capacity of a robot. It’s easier to just block everything out… so far it’s been one of those weeks where I’m not even sure my dog loves me… it’s ridiculous. I know objectively that that is not true, just as I objectively know that I have feelings, but it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like a giant ice cube has formed around my heart… radiating cold out to the rest of my body… pulling rank and keeping every sense, every cell in line… with the explicit order not to feel anything. I can’t even let go when I’m on my own. it’s like I’m even hiding from myself. I can feel the heat rise in my chest, behind my eyes, but even if I think about allowing myself to express it, my body suppresses it like an automatic reflex.

the only time I seem to be able to express anything is when my sugars are really out of whack because I seem to lose control a bit… that’s when I want to write, that’s when I feel awake… so  do I only have feelings when they are triggered by my blood sugar? If so, that’s not good, on so many levels. Not feeling is a problem. High sugars are a problem. Feeling because of high sugars… not good. a recipe for misbehaviour and disaster.

I just wish everything was okay. Or that I could be sure of it. I just want everything to be okay. to be normal. I know… there’s nothing and no one that is “normal,” but seriously, I am so beyond the range of any concept of the “normal” range — I am absolutely dependent on medication to keep me alive, I have two remotes that control chemicals in my body, in addition to prescriptions and an emotional program for living… fuck that. fuck all of it. I hate my remotes, and I hate that as soon as I’ve gotten used to an omnipod placement I have to move it again… and the scarring from these is not going to be good — way worse than the dexcom, I don’t know if it’s because the cannula is larger, but I can tell when I take them off that the injection site is going to take longer to heal that the dexcom ones do… great… now I can just wait on breaking technology (and the FDA) while getting scarred up all over. Great. fucking fabulous. I’m just so fucking mad at all of this… and this is what happens when I let it out, so in order to move through the day to day I have to just swallow it down and keep it all in. Everything related to any feeling, good or bad, has to stay frozen because I can’t handle the feelings at the top of the list. I know how to fake the funk, how to work a room… if I need to share “feelings” for whatever reason, I keep it light, “my family is crazy, I deal with it by sending them pictures of my dog”… small talk about work and whatever I’m watching on Netflix and Discovery channel…  that’s the stuff I can say, the shallow stuff… I can’t talk about anything real. One chink to the very thin armour and I’m going to crack. I’m barely holding my shit together. Frozen helps. Right now it’s the only way.