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My depression went away, as it usually does as fast as it hits me, but now it's coming back again because I feel so useless. I just lay here and my poor boyfriend who is just on the tail end of recovering has to take care of me now. When I get up to go to the bathroom the mirror is my worst enemy. I can't believe how bad I look when I get this sick.
When I was 15 I had to be escorted by ambulance to the hospital because my blood pressure had dropped so low it caused me to faint and I hit my head pretty hard on a marble floor. They couldn't hit the vein in my arms, maybe because I had more weight on me then, so they put the IV in my hand. With my fear of needles now I can't even imagine letting them do that. The point of this story is once I was there and I was stable enough to walk myself to the bathroom I looked in the mirror and it was so strange seeing myself like that. I'll never forget that image. I looked in the mirror in my hospital robe and I was more pale than I had ever been. I almost looked blue. My mascara and eyeliner had smeared from me crying so I had black circles around my eyes. My lips were blue and my eyes looked like my soul had escaped from my body. Maybe it was just hanging out in the lobby like someone in an auto mechanics waiting for their car to be fixed before they keep driving it.
I don't look that bad, but I look horrible. Not being able to move around is really taking a toll on my extensions too. If the wonderful smell of my hair products wasn't giving me a migraine I could take this sickness in more stride.
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