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Saturday, May 4, 2013

starships were meant to flyyy

let's go to the beach, each 
let's go get away, they say, what they gonna say?

oh right. i remember. that i shouldn't have been enjoying my life. that i shouldn't go to the beach. that i didn't deserve to.
fuck you talkin about i don't deserve to or that i shouldn't be goin to the beach. i almost died bitch. i deserve to go to the beach now more than ever!

*sigh* what am i talking about? i sound kinda crazy right? i kinda am crazy, if you haven't been paying attention...

anyway. if you know anything about me or my past, you know i'm a shorewhore. i live for the beach and the way it makes me feel and it's healing powers. it doesn't hurt that i have family that lives down the shore either and i pretty much have free room and board. i have friends down there, i pretty much have a whole nother life down there. so anyway, i was always going down there, just about every other weekend, before i got sick, before all this bullshit started. and then, then i had my first brain surgery. and we all went for my 27th birthday. me, my parents and my brother and sister. and those bitches from my office had the nerve to talk shit about how i shouldn't be at the beach how i shouldn't be doin shit. really? i almost died. i'm gonna recover the best way i know how! seriously. talk shit on me when ya'll fuckin abandoned me in my time of need. get the fuck outta here. and then, a few months later, before i was going to have my second surgery, i spent time down the shore with my cousins, to prepare myself to calm myself down. but wait, i shouldn't have done that either because godforfreakinbid i take time for me. i enjoy me. i do something for ME. yeah, i'm sick. and yeah, my life sucks at times, hell, most of the time it takes alot for me to get out of bed, but i'm doing it. so let the bitches talk shit and talk shit they did. my goodness. work was hell for me when i tried to go back. my drs signed me out. if they hadn't, i probably would've gotten fired because they made it so difficult for me to come back to. and i wanted to go back and i tried so hard. but seriously? try going back after brain surgery, with a brain tumor still in there, still not fully recovered, with cushings, without the support of your coworkers, with people whispering behind your back, with the negativity, with your body screaming, and walking into things and people making you feel bad because you're partially blind now, and people leaving things in the middle of the floor and no one being considerate and them not making it handicap accessible for you and... i could go on and on and on... i'm fortunate enough to have had a wonderful lawyer and to have won my disability case because there's no way i could work now. i've pushed myself to my limits this week and i have no idea how i'm still functioning right now. my legs are screaming. my back is on fire. thursday i had a headache that wouldn't quit- i was practically in a tylenol induced coma. cushings fucking sucks. 

you're probably wondering what stemmed this wonderful bloggityblog. i haven't been well enough to go to the shore since last july. well, mom and i booked a mini-getaway for june and we're going to the beach so i'm saying fuck you to whomever wants to bitch that i'm going. because i'm going. and i'm going to enjoy the hell out of the ocean waves, the sand between my toes, the ocean sunsets, the love of my family and the amazing pool at my favorite hotel, oh and my favorite breakfast spot. 

i'm fighting death all the time. every day. medically speaking i SHOULD be dead. i'm a walking miracle so guess what? i'm going to the beach each, let's go get away. they say, what they gonna say?... they better be sayin have a good time because this starship was meant to fly. 

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