Curse of the Double Full Moon

At the moment, I am attempting to settle me down... I think the last of the gunk is clearing the system, which is great, because between the sweating, ague, and the original problem, and the issues with putting food down being made worse (I managed a full bowl of soup in one sitting at last, but it sure took forever.) - and of course, attempting to clear out fog and get myself back on track... ok, looks like that's all there is... what's humanly possible has been done... I leave the rest to God... and attempting to ensure my tension with illness and attempting to get myself back to normalcy... there's so much I need to do, I can't be fighting the cure that is worse than the disease, worrying about when I will get answers, worrying about life... yes, it hurts... like hell... yeah, it tears me up... any friendship I end up bidding Godspeed does that to me... I hate others' hurts... they hurt like hell and I understand that my internal struggles and theirs can't coincide.

I would like to call this all by the oh so dramatic and delightful name, "Curse of the Double Full Moon"... but I think it's odd coincidences that I tend to get slammed really bad in August. But yeah, the fabled "blue moon"... while bearing no scientific basis, sure didn't help me. And I love the stars and sky.

I have to face forward. Work on correcting the health issues...all of them. I shouldn't dread shopping and eating, shouldn't worry that I'm taking too long and looking picky.
I shouldn't be irritated by "Captain Obvious" answers and runarounds... by now. But I see a time when I may have to give in, be jabbed, poked, prodded, tubed. I don't want that tension around anyone, really, the worry, the fear... after all the times I've dug myself up, I'm giving in to fear?

I'm thinking I may get me a good ticket and meet a friend in Nashville. A little time over coffees and spending time in the mountains may be good for me. And there's a secret affinity for Dolly Parton, but mostly for her pluck!

I do not give up, I do not give in... if I let myself grow broody, if I am in the dark too long, I am grateful, I have a friend who gently kicks my butt and makes me hug her tight. I am not a quitter... I wouldn't be on this earth. In 5 months, I will be toasting a special screw you to my very delightful doctors with a big bottle of wine, hopefully one about my size. I am going to make it to 30. And beyond 30. I am going to kick ass. I'm going to bliss out with Bob Marley, minus the cannabis, enjoy kids' movies, get down and boogie, dance in my underwear, sing "Like a Virgin" in the shower, be silly, be wild. (which is a side of me that many will claim does not exist.) I am going to get answers. I am going to be me. And with the right signs ready in ASL for those who dare to act like assholes at the ready.