Recovering from Addiction
There's been quite a bit of development since I last blogged, namely I feel MUCH better. I've never gotten the winter blues before not have I ever had mono, and I'm not sure if either of that is what I had, but needless to say, I feel upbeat and fantastic. You know what did the trick? Some good sleep. And when I say good sleep, I mean 15 hours of sleep. Yup, I got myself a whopping 15 hours of log sawin' this past Thursday night starting at 9pm, and didn't wake up till noon the next day. I don't if I've ever slept that long before in my life. When I woke up, I looked around, blinked a few times, and literally smiled like a crazy clown who just farted at a wedding: smug and proud. Anyways, since that sleep did the trick, my current theory is that the funk I was feeling was merely me being totally exhausted and not getting enough sleep, thus throwing me into this crazy depression. Anyways, thanks everyone for your words of comfort, whether through blog comment, email or in person. Things probably would've gotten worse if it wasn't for y'all.
On another note, I have discovered that I am a junkie. What kind of junkie, you ask. Well, let me tell you. It's not crack, it's not the Mary Jane, and it's not the bottle. It is caffine. These past few days, I haven't had my normal cup of coffee to jump start my morning. In the beginning, I was fine, but yesterday morning, I woke up with the world's worst headache. I popped a couple advils to silence the ringing, but only to discover the pain would return 12 hours later. As I rocked back and forth, holding my head, I took a couple more advil and went to bed. I was totally expecting the drugs to kick in, but my body pretty much ignored it and scoffed at me as if I had just taken pez for the pain. As I laid in bed, I was literally sweating and moaning and saying things like 'Oh the PAIN!!!' and 'Kill me now, God!!!' In hindsight, I think what I found myself doing last night is how drug addicts in rehab are portrayed in the movies. Anyways, I finally fall asleep, but to wake up with the same headache raping my brain. Through the pain and noise, I think to myself 'Chen, you're a junkie.'
Before heading to church this afternoon, I pop a couple more advil in hopes that it would give some sort of relief to the head pwning I've been getting the last couple days. Well, it did absolutely nothing. I manage to get through practice without passing out our puking, which I think was a pretty good feat. What I think helped me make it through was the smell of coffee being brewed. When that rich aroma penetrated my nostrils, I think I let out the highest pitches squeal that only dogs could hear. After practice, I put down everything and rush over to the bar and tell Melissa 'I NEED A FRIGGIN' COFFEE!!!!!!!!!' When I get my mug of liquid ecstasy, I take one sip and literally feel the headache melt away. When this happened, I was filled with both comfort and fear: Comfort because the pain was gone, but fear because my theory of being a junkie was confirmed.