The research begins today

I’m terrified of death. I’m terrified of all the things that are associated with death. Car accidents, cancer, hospitals, just to name a few of the thousands. There are many therapists out there that will tell you that to conquer your fear you need to face it, submerge yourself in it.

I have attended 7 funerals in 13 months. This past January I went to the ER, found out I had a kidney stone, and had to have two procedures to get it taken care of. The third and final of which will take place March 20th. And let me just tell you that having a sent in your kidney and bladder is not at all a romp in a park full of wild flowers.

I even went so far as to go to the doctors and got put on a new brain medication to stop the constant panic. Before my doctor came in I was visited by a doctor in training. Her name was Laurie and she was far too hot for me. In the medical field I prefer my woman ugly, fat, and wouldn’t mind a wart or two on her face. I haven’t quite figured this out, but the hot ones tend to make me nervous.

So there I was, unloading on her while doing my best to avoid starring at her cleavage. But come on now, a thin black v-neck sweater cover by a white doctors coat and a stethoscope. I didn’t have a dicks chance in a room full of lesbians. She asked me about my history of panic attacks. I told her how my version of panic is not so much an attack as it is a way of life. I told her that at least 70% of my day is consumed with thinking about death or some illness that I have that will eventually kill me. She laughed (even her laugh was gorgeous) and told me I should write a book and she would totally read it.

Needless to say the brain clouds are still hovering. I’ve been trying to talk about it less. Understanding that most people don’t understand. When my doctor finally came in I missed Laurie. I wanted to talk to her more because it seemed like she was honestly listening. Instead I just reiterated how I have tried therapy three times and the doctor told me he would like to put me on different meds.

Yesterday I went to a funeral. Just like the 6 before it I didn’t feel much. Sometimes I wonder which is better. The numbness that the pills give me, or the terror from not taking them. There is not submerging myself into the fear of death because it’s unknown. I don’t have blind faith, but I do have a want to finally understand why I am the way that I am. The research begins today.

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