*hugs her LJ* I've missed you so much!
Jan. 18th, 2003 10:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mousmeI so need to get a life outside my LiveJournal. 
Actually, right now I'm in that situation that I often get into when I'm ill: I don't quite feel ill enough to lie down, because I won't go to sleep and then all that'll happen is that I'll be lying down and feeling ill instead of being up and about and ill. I also don't really have the energy or will to really do anything productive.
Being ill is especially hard on the morale, I find. I just feel guilty all the time because something at the back of my mind keeps telling me that I'm exaggerating, that I'm being a wuss for not getting on with things.
My father seems to think the same thing. He wanted to know whether I thought I should go back to work on Monday. He definitely seems to think I should. Maybe he's concerned I won't make enough money otherwise. But if I go into work on Monday I'll have to miss work on Tuesday because that's when I have my doctor's appointment. And the doctor at the hospital thought I should take a week or so off to get myself back together.
I feel like a fraud. My own father doesn't believe I'm really sick. I don't know what he thinks, actually. He's convinced himself that I'm a failure in every possible way (all this because of two unpaid bills which, granted, were large ones, but they weren't impossible for me to get around) and that if he doesn't run my life for me now (including telling when to go to work) then I'll end up homeless or something.
I think he's probably worried about losing face. My mother, for once, doesn't seem all that perturbed about it, which is unusual as it's usually the opposite that happens. Then again, this time it "reflects" on my father instead of her, because he feels it's "his responsibility" to turn me into a productive, successful adult. And of course now he feels he can't crow to his friends about his successful, well-adjusted daughter. *miaow*
Can we tell Phnee has been brooding?
Okay, enough with the sarcasm and irony and massive amounts of negativity. I'm actually not in that foul a mood. I'm just stuck in limbo. I feel too sick to do something useful, but not sick enough to do nothing. I suppose that if I just lay down and did nothing it might be more convincing for other people to believe I feel like crap, but I haven't really been able to sit still for the past three weeks, no matter how bad or how tired I feel. I guess it must be pretty hard for people to believe that the really hyper girl on the gurney was vomiting blood at work and nearly passed out. I don't know... I wanted to tell them I felt horrible, that I was still nauseous and felt dizzy, and instead all that came out of my mouth was "I don't feel quite as bad as before."
As though those poor people could read my mind. It's like a gut-reflex: downplay how bad you're feeling, don't let them see you're weak, don't let them scent blood. Heh. Pun not intended. I guess it's a weird defense mechanism: I'm so afraid of being invalidated, of being told it's nothing (which has happened a few times before with doctors when it turned out not to be nothing) that I downplay it and thus am even more vindicated if it does turn out to be something. Pretty convoluted, huh?
I'm such a baby when I'm ill.
This blows bigger chunks than Mt. St. Helen's.
Actually, right now I'm in that situation that I often get into when I'm ill: I don't quite feel ill enough to lie down, because I won't go to sleep and then all that'll happen is that I'll be lying down and feeling ill instead of being up and about and ill. I also don't really have the energy or will to really do anything productive.
Being ill is especially hard on the morale, I find. I just feel guilty all the time because something at the back of my mind keeps telling me that I'm exaggerating, that I'm being a wuss for not getting on with things.
My father seems to think the same thing. He wanted to know whether I thought I should go back to work on Monday. He definitely seems to think I should. Maybe he's concerned I won't make enough money otherwise. But if I go into work on Monday I'll have to miss work on Tuesday because that's when I have my doctor's appointment. And the doctor at the hospital thought I should take a week or so off to get myself back together.
I feel like a fraud. My own father doesn't believe I'm really sick. I don't know what he thinks, actually. He's convinced himself that I'm a failure in every possible way (all this because of two unpaid bills which, granted, were large ones, but they weren't impossible for me to get around) and that if he doesn't run my life for me now (including telling when to go to work) then I'll end up homeless or something.
I think he's probably worried about losing face. My mother, for once, doesn't seem all that perturbed about it, which is unusual as it's usually the opposite that happens. Then again, this time it "reflects" on my father instead of her, because he feels it's "his responsibility" to turn me into a productive, successful adult. And of course now he feels he can't crow to his friends about his successful, well-adjusted daughter. *miaow*
Can we tell Phnee has been brooding?
Okay, enough with the sarcasm and irony and massive amounts of negativity. I'm actually not in that foul a mood. I'm just stuck in limbo. I feel too sick to do something useful, but not sick enough to do nothing. I suppose that if I just lay down and did nothing it might be more convincing for other people to believe I feel like crap, but I haven't really been able to sit still for the past three weeks, no matter how bad or how tired I feel. I guess it must be pretty hard for people to believe that the really hyper girl on the gurney was vomiting blood at work and nearly passed out. I don't know... I wanted to tell them I felt horrible, that I was still nauseous and felt dizzy, and instead all that came out of my mouth was "I don't feel quite as bad as before."
As though those poor people could read my mind. It's like a gut-reflex: downplay how bad you're feeling, don't let them see you're weak, don't let them scent blood. Heh. Pun not intended. I guess it's a weird defense mechanism: I'm so afraid of being invalidated, of being told it's nothing (which has happened a few times before with doctors when it turned out not to be nothing) that I downplay it and thus am even more vindicated if it does turn out to be something. Pretty convoluted, huh?
I'm such a baby when I'm ill.
This blows bigger chunks than Mt. St. Helen's.
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no subject
Date: 2003-01-18 08:17 pm (UTC):: whistles innocently ::
Well, maybe not the latter, but she sure sounded enthusiastic about it when we spoke about it on the phone Monday morning! :D
In own humble opinion, would say taking week off to get self back on feet all wise. In plainer words, your dad ain't the doctor. ;)
Pinged you on Y!M but am guessing none at parents' place. :p
Am dying and off to bed soonishly, but wanted to spam you at least once afore keeling over...
:: huggles ::
Spam back a bit? ;)
(Sorry if am rambly and disjointed. :: flops over :: Am v. beat. :: wry grin ::)
Re:
Date: 2003-01-18 08:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-01-19 12:41 am (UTC)Ah yes. Another one of the Don't Let 'Em See You Hurt Edition of the School of Hard Knocks' graduate program. I'm currently working on my doctorate.
*huggles* You. Take. Time. Off. Hear me? Or I shall come over to your house, tie you down, and tickle you mercilessly with a very stiff feather. Or something.
*shakes reproving finger*
no subject
Date: 2003-01-19 09:01 am (UTC)As to your father, I understand that mentality all too well - you should see the tap dancing my mother does to avoid telling people all about her non-Jewish son-in-law-to-be... [rolls eyes]. At some point, it has to come down to this: you are not your parents. Your parents are not you. You have got to separate yourself from their insecurities and fears, and live your own life as you want to live it.
Here's what I've learned from wedding planning around my mother - smile a lot. Nod a lot. Say "I'll give that suggestion all the consideration that it deserves" and do what *you* know to be right for *you*. You don't have to let your father lecture - practice saying "thank you for your advice, but I've got it under control." Then say it again. And again. And again, until he stops talking. And then do what you were going to do anyway. {{{hugs}}}
They can yell and fume, but ultimatly you are the one in control of how much power you give them. {{{hugs}}}