The Week After Girl Scout Camp

I get home from the car, really dizzy, and car sick.  The last two years of my life prior I’ve been sick, peeing a lot, drinking water, and having an enormous appetite but not gaining weight.  I have been pre-diabetic with people not noticing.  My cold persists when I get home, and it turns ugly when I slip into diabetic coma.  It is a random, sudden event, which gives me flashbacks years later.  I am in diabetic coma for three days or so, being on life support, which is why the coronavirus era is so scary for me only because people are in hospitals, intubated fighting for their lives.  In the present, I have prayed for the sick.

I am very ill during this time, three days of it, I spend time in the afterlife rose garden, which I read about later in near death experience books as an adult.  I also spend time in the water park, which I hear others experience.  I spend time in the after life in general wandering around.  I see heaven, I see hell, I have visions of rooms full of gods of all kinds.  I meet Sekhmet who would later become the deity I’m drawn to talk to in my pagan practice as an adult.  

During this time, I had my vital bodily functions taken care of by machines.  Mom gave me last rights.  I was physically weak coming out of the coma.  It’s why hospital scenes on Smallville trigger the crap out of me in the present. Type 1 diabetes is a perfectly preventable illness that could have been properly treated. It was my own fault for not insisting further of the need for treatment since I was already diagnosing myself at age 10 with type 1 diabetes, because I said I’m like Stacey in the Baby Sitters Club books.  The big emergency comes when I fall asleep at home.  I woke up in the hospital, not something I want to have happen again.

But whatever, what is done is done.  I could have done many things to remove myself from toxic environments growing up but I was shoved into it.  I stayed put.  Most people who have been abused remove themselves from all toxic environments in their adult lives as there are some children who manage to break free of those kinds of environments, but I doubted myself all the time.  I should have been on pediatric onset schizoaffective medications but I wasn’t on any.  I also had pediatric onset OCD, which is a nightmare to deal with when you don’t have medication.

See, my family needs medication but won’t take it.  I’m starting to get really fed up with this.  They always seem fine to outsiders but I know better.  Contamination anxiety is when you fear being contaminated by garbage.  Some people have anxiety so bad they have to ask me, the sane one, to push the dirty garbage in the bag down far enough so that they don’t have to touch it.  Wow.  The anxiety.

There are long lists of approved medications in this day and age.  Medications that pass rigorous trials, which makes medication a quite safe, effective, and needed process to undergo.  You are not making your lives easier, family, by enabling the crap out of people who do not take medication.  This is getting ridiculous.  I fear for their mental health, since they drink instead.  Type-1 diabetes is a scary illness, being in the hospital for one week is scary, but I quit drinking to numb that pain.  I can live with myself now.

I can live with the flashbacks.  Hospitals scare me, I stay out of them, in particular right now during this pandemic.  I stay away from them.  I try to follow all CDC guidelines.  Its really simple if you think about it, follow the guidelines, stay well. In the past, I caught colds really easily.  In the present, I know this is because of having low blood platelets.  One cold wiped out my pancreas at age 10. I wake up in the hospital.  I remember hovering above my body watching them take me out of the car, put me in the ambulance, and ride to the hospital.

But then again it was a series of autoimmune stresses, not to mention living in a scary environment.  My family can be terribly unpredictable.  I was punished for things that really weren’t that serious.  There was not much to punish.  I remember such odd things about growing up.  What is done is done, I have no pancreas. I have genuine trauma from the past.

I’m working on healing myself if only because I want to build a better tomorrow, one which hopefully involves making money.  Lots of money. I have many business ideas, the churreria for example.  Lactose-free products.  I have many written business plans, which show a ballpark of numbers that could be brought in, if there is money to be made.  I’m trying to find a job that will bring in money, real money.  Real money to make myself go to healers with.

Mr. hernia is not going to be taken out, but I have to pay the money for the energy healing I will need. I also have to learn energy healing for myself.  That hernia has been a part of me for a long time, it didn’t make noise for years, as I was able to eat chocolate, etc. without getting heartburn.  I have strong faith that I can heal myself, and make it disappear.  Funny, when I was in the hospital, no tests were done about mr. hernia until my adult life.  It was a process of rediscovery.  I was peeing into a bag, so every time I watch any medical tv shows when this happens, I flashback.  I woke up out of the coma feeling like a piece of my soul had fled during the episode. But writing this is helping it come back.