Starting on Monday, September 6, 2010 (at 4:00 in the morning, so technically Sunday, September 5), I started taking a picture of something that made me happy every day. My Project Happiness 365 started as a proactive act on my part to ward off deep depression. It was spurred by heartbreak as an effort to pull myself out of the wreckage, but now it's fueled by gratitude and a desire to find the beauty in everyday, "mundane" life. This is my honest, vulnerable journey from Hot Mess to Winning. I hope this helps. Oh, and if you're in pain, good; that means you put your whole heart into something. And if you think it won't ever get better, I promise it will. Here's my proof.

So there is something mega wrong with me. Here’s a list of the symptoms:

1) Woke up in the middle of the night with acid in my throat. Every time I tried to clear my throat, I would just get more. I couldn’t spit it out either. So I sat in the bathroom waiting to vomit. Never happened. So. I just went back to bed and prayed for it to stop.
2) Woke up this morning with a splitting headache. It feels like my head is being smashed between two pieces of concrete. I have taken 2 ibuprofen, drunk an F-load of water, drunk Gatorade and eaten. I went back to sleep at one point, too. It’s bad, man.
3) I can’t take deep breaths without my breath catching in my lungs.
4) Constant nausea. All the time. ALL.THE.TIME. I feel like I’m ready to puke all the time. I have put my garbage can right next to my bed, in case the occasion arises.

And the headache is so bad, I can’t really move around. We had a dance rehearsal tonight for Chicago and I wanted to rip my head off and punt it like a soccer ball. Like, I haven’t been in this much pain since I broke my collarbone (and this current episode includes the last 2 weeks where I couldn’t eat, as this has been pretty much constant).

Anyway. Can’t really eat anything. Nothing suits my appetite, and I really don’t wanna vom. If it’s still bad in the morning, I’m calling the doctor. But.  Tonight, I was literally indisposed. Couldn’t move at all without my head feeling like a bowling ball atop my neck. So. My mommy made me dinner:

 Eggs with jelly on toast. YUM.O. And my mommy makes the best eggs and I have TRIED to duplicate them but I just can’t. Also, she makes REALLY GOOD white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies (which are my FAVES-TOWN), but I just can’t seem to get those right either. Anyway. SO YUMMY. And it was really nice to be able to eat food. And my mommy still takes care of me. Who needs boyfriends when you have mommies? I know that sounds like the words immediately preceding, “I’LL TAKE ALL THE CATS IN THE POUND!” But. What the fuggin hell: THANK GOD FOR MOMMIES.

Oh. The pain has changed to… the feeling of a stiletto boot kicking me in the temples. Kinky, yes, but not my thing (currently).

Still. Amidst the pain I am still grateful for everything I have:
1) I had a whole day off where I could let my deathly symptoms take their course
2) I have a mommy who made me food when I felt unable
3) My daddy is really worried about me
4) My friends are just as concerned, and really care about my well-being.

I wanna personally guillotine myself, but I still have unwavering gratitude gigante.

I am in love with my life, head-splitting headache and all.

And this is obviously a test. Two weeks ago, before meals I would thank _______ for my good health. And it seems like such a miniscule thing, especially when you’re healthy: “Yeah, good health, whatever.” But really. I would love to have a day without feeling like F. (Oh wait, I did: my birthday. So. There must be a _______ if my god-awful symptoms could subside for one day to let me have a winning birthday.)

Life is so funny, but you really have to have a killer sense of humor…

And I think I might.

“Who says, who says you’re not perfect? Who says you’re not worth it? Who says you’re the only one that’s hurting? Trust me; that’s the price of beauty. Who says you’re not pretty? Who says you’re not beautiful? Who says?”
~”Who Says” by Selena Gomez

Yeah, you can judge me for that one. But come on, answer the question. I bet the answer to the question is: (Insert Reader’s Name)

I love you, even if you don’t.



Comments on: "311. When You Feel Dead, There’s A Mommy" (1)

  1. I hope you feel LOADS better. If you ever need anything, just ask.

    Also, I love your thing about taking all the cats in the pound. HILARIOUS.

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