As the end of Winter approaches, some pretty nasty illnesses float around. Mutant flu, rampant stomach bugs and chronic despondence. It’s all very serious.
But I have it worse.
I have Terminal Insomnia.
Yes, it’s real and you can read about it here. And unlike the illnesses, it’s not seasonal – it’s an all year round affliction. And it can’t be treated or cured by a change of season. And the advice on the websites doesn’t help much either.
And Terminal Insomnia is a sneaky bugger. Sometimes it will go into remission for a few weeks and then all of a sudden it will come back, worse than before. I never know when I’ll have an attack or when it will stop its nonsense.
But it could be worse. I could have Fatal Insomnia. This is the worst kind. Even an induced coma cannot make your brain shut down. So eventually you just go mad and die. Sadly, there is no cure.
So if you have the sniffles or mild diarrhea or you’re lovesick for summer, suck it up! There are worse things that can happen to you.
I am the first person to admit that I am completely pathetic when I am sick. I become childlike and demanding and miserable. The world has to revolve around me more than usual because as far as I can tell, I’m dying. And people should feel sorry for me.
In fact, I had a long argument with The American about why I shouldn’t be left at home alone today, because I need someone to take care of me, because I am dying. That didn’t work. So, now I am home alone and feeling very sorry for myself. And any desire that The American had about having children one day has been cured.
Today I realised that after turning 25 your body goes backwards.
Although I passed the quarter century milestone some time ago, I have noticed how things just aren’t the same anymore. I don’t bounce back the way I used to.
I have been very sick twice in the past six months. Both times involved a lot of coughing and sneezing and me making puppy dog eyes at anyone who would give me attention. Before I turned 25 I wouldn’t even catch a cold. Now I need bed rest and a prescription from a medical practitioner.
Another horrible truth is the severity of hangovers in your mid-twenties. Back at university I would drink to excess and often. And I would be able to go to class and function normally the next day (except for the one day I fell asleep on my German professor) and celebrate with more beer and shooters once the sun went down (I believe I did that after the incident with the professor).
Now, if I mix my drinks or have one beer too many, I am out of action for two days. When I was 18 I would wake up, say ‘ouch’, rub the sleep out of my eyes and continue with my youthful living. Now, I wake up, swear at everything and then I swear a little more as it gets worse.
I tried drinking a lot of water between drinks at a party once. The only thing this lead to was me spending most of the evening in the little girls room and not getting drunk at all. That was for my 26th birthday…
Back in the day I could party until 2am. Now I’m lucky if I can stay awake past 9pm. I suppose I’m not waking up at midday anymore, but the ability to stay awake would be nice. I have become a narcoleptic party pooper.
I know it’s true and I have made peace with the fact that it’s all a lumpy downhill from here.