PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

sick to my stomach

Monday, Dec. 30, 2002
It amazes me that if you just simply stop eating you will stop visiting the bathroom. I don’t even need a catheter because nothing is happening. All I want to do is sleep and curl up in a ball and close my eyes.

In the last 3 days I have consumed

1 french fry (at Bucky’s pleading that I must eat something)
3 glasses of cold milk that made my stomach jump at the raw coldness
1 chocolate chip cookie (again at Bucky’s pleadings)
1 glass of glenlivit/water (that made me throw up all of the above remnants)

The neighbors gave Bucky a very nice soft sleeping bag and all I’ve managed to do is throw it in the washer and try to talk myself into putting it in the dryer ever since. It’s cold here and I have to turn off the heat to run the dryer (strange short in the electrical system) so I haven’t wanted to get cold to dry that bag.

I just ate a baked potato that husband made for me when he dropped Bucky off from daycare.

Feb 6th appointments are too far away. My stomach is crawling up into my throat.

Bucky wants to sleep in bed with me. I think he’s afraid of being alone, abandoned. And oh what a horrible thing for a child to fear. What “hand me downs” he has received.

Flight tickets are so expensive and so we’re bidding on some so he can go see grandma. Cross your fingers. He needs to get away from here. He keeps wanting to sleep in the bedroom with me, tonight I think I’m gonna cave in and let him. He keeps writing me letters telling me he loves me…it breaks my heart.

Now I gotta go throw up.

Don't read this if you can't face me and talk to me about any of it. Just go away for awhile and let me fall apart without you watching. I understand and don't want to ...but you gotta stay away. Have respect.

-PoeticaL
7:00 p.m. ::
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