Too Much to Handle

Today was the day! Today was the day that Jess and I ventured out to Woodbury, CT to participate in the filming of Hotel Hell with Gordon Ramsay at the Curtis House!

It was…. strangely disappointing. We didn’t spot (or hear, for that matter) the elusive Gordon Ramsay. The food was excellent. The wait staff (generally) knew what they were doing. If there weren’t really fancy cameras everywhere, I never would have known that we were going to be on television. The most exciting part of the entire experience was the drive to the Curtis House, where I repeatedly shouted (in Jess’ ear) "GORDON RAMSAY!! I’M SO EXCITED!!" That, along with seeing Miss Amy and Carol and all the girls from my other knitting/crochet/craft group that had the same reservation time as we did.

So…. I guess I can look forward to the episode being on television? Then I can find out what Gordon Ramsay was doing the whole time we were there? And I can play Where’s Drea? during the whole episode? IDK. That sounds like a plan, I guess.

 

You can skip this whole next part if you want. Its just a whole of freaking out over nothing. 

That aside, I also went to the walk-in clinic to get my chest looked at. The verdict is just a severely sprained pectoral muscle. They gave me a prescription for Flexiril, which is a muscle relaxer. Told me to take that three times a day, along with 800mg of Ibuprofen. Heating pad when I can. Nothing strenuous for two to three weeks. 

Doesn’t sound so horrible. Until I took one of those pills. (On the way to the Curtis House, in fact!) By the time we had sat down and ordered our food, I couldn’t walk straight. And I felt… well… I felt like I was drunk, actually. Jess had to drive my car back to my house. So now, the only thing I’m thinking is that I’m supposed to take these things three times a day. Three times. Every day. What the fuck am I going to do when I have to go to work? I could always take one after I get to work- but oh wait! Silly me! Won’t be able to drive my car back home again if I take it at work! 

So I can’t lift. I can’t drive. I can barely function. And this is going to be two to three weeks? Its been hell on me for the past two weeks, and I’m going to be doing the same thing for almost three more weeks? That’s horse shit. Its been two weeks. And I feel completely useless. I can’t lift anything. I can’t move anything. I can’t empty the  dishwasher. I can’t vacuum the house because the Kirby is freaking ancient and weighs a fuckton. I can’t lift a gallon of milk at work. 

For as long as I can remember, I have been an incredibly independent person. I find it extremely difficult to ask for help. If something needs to get done, I do it. And I do it by myself. And I hate having the mind to do something, but a physical limitation preventing me from accomplishing it. Like sitting up in bed when I wake up in the morning. I want to do it, but I can’t get there because every time I try to sit up, oh look- ripping pain encircling my chest. What joy is mine. 

To make it worse, I told my trainer what is going on in terms of my lack of healing, and he basically shot me down and told me I was doing everything wrong. And while I know that he right in saying that the workouts he gives me are designed to fit my current level of fitness, I just don’t understand why -if I can’t do the exercise that you have asked me to do- it is wrong to do another one? If the only real pain is staying centered in my chest, why can’t I work my legs more? ‘

So in addition to being out of my mind and taking up residence in Loopy World, I’ve also disappointed the one person that I’m holding myself accountable to. Which is absolutely destroying me. I thought I was doing good only to be told that I shouldn’t have pushed myself to run faster, jump higher. 

Nothing but anxiety attacks and tears for the past three days, now. 

And to make it even worse, my mother called today to ask me how I was doing. And she used her, "I pity you" voice. I hate it when she talks like that. Its like she’s talking to me like I’m a child still, and I’m not. And all that tone of voice does it piss me the fuck off. 

I just want to be better. I want to be better for Wild Fire. I want to be able to learn everything I can from that experience without having to sacrifice participation. 

 

Back to good news:

As of yesterday, Sam and I have been together for three whole years. It doesn’t feel like that much time as passed, but at the same time it feels like we’ve been together for ever. And while I know we’ve been going through a rough patch lately, I can say with confidence that I absolutely love him. He keeps me stable (for the most part) he makes me feel like I’m a good person (he’s probably the only one lol) he supports me in everything that I do (I have so many candles now) and he helps me (without my asking) through all the difficult things one has to deal with in life. 

I wouldn’t be the person I am today without him in my life. And I’m glad (so glad) that Christopher invited him to his Eagle Court of Honor three years ago. <3

 

So yeah. Rough past couple of days. Don’t know where we’re going to end up tomorrow, but we’ll see when it gets here. 

ALW