i'm sicka y'all's shit! {and a recipe}

did i show y'all that shirt from my MIL?

priceless.

Welp, today, I am here to say, that I AM sick to damn death of y'all's shit, as a matter of fact.

"Y'all" bein the diabeetus and the emotional flare ups post preggo-ness.

WTF? When do I get "me" back? Never apparently.

If you are new around these parts, you may have missed my episode with having an ectopic pregnancy, and then somewhat of a personality disorder thereafter.

I think I'm dealing with being mad at my body in general.

1) I am only twenty-effin-nine. K? So, you little remnants of diabetic neuropathy can suck. it. dry.

 Ya heard? You too, carpal tunnel. Really? Bite me.

I've been diabetic since age 5, and while the road has not been perfect, I have taken 'better care of myself than most'. I give thanks to God for giving me the brains and determination for that, because I certainly don't just pop up willingly at 3am to check my blood and see what's up. I got a BOMB ASS a1c result of 5.8 a few months ago.

That. shit. was. epic.

I worked my imaginary balls off for that prize.

And my reward? The first signs on neuropathy.

2) Since my body also decided to try to grow a baby in my left fallopian tube, which is no longer with us, I am feeling like my pancreas and whatever is responsible for getting the egg to the uterus need to take some classes on how to do their jobs and shit.




{Let's take a time-out to assess how cray-cray-licious I am soundin' right about now.}

I know. It could be worse. I'm not dying. There are other couples out there dealin' with shit, too. I can have kids, supposedly. My a1c is excellent. I might can reverse some of these symptoms with exercise, continued control and acupuncture. Part of my psychosis is the anger/guilt pendulum I am ridin', which contributes to me feelin' like I'm one loose screw away from a total derailment.

But sometimes, Psycho Shug shows up. Because, even though she is not normally hangin' out, chit-chattin', she is lurkin' in my subconcious bein' all negative and shit, makin' me think that just because I haven't gotten pregnant in two months, with one fallopian tube that I am probably never gonna get pregnant. She also be spreadin' rumors about how I'm gonna have all my limbs amputated, and be blind and shit. I'm tellin' y'all, she is one crazzzzzzzy biotch.  



And she never calls ahead. She just shows up. Bitch ain't had no 'raisin's whatsoever.

Anyhoo. Had me a 180 on the hubs. One second, super hype about life, next, cryin' on the couch over some carpal tunnel and the baby I ain't growin.' It's like the pregnancy gave life to an alter ego that is bat cave crazy. What's really nuts is that some days, even though the what-if's, fear and sadness are always in the back of my mind, I almost feel like I dreamed the whole thing. Telling Anj I was pregnant, being pregnant, the bleeding, the trip to the doctor's office to find out it was ectopic, the surgery. Sometimes I stare at my scars in the shower and remind myself that I didn't hallucinate it all.

After my meltdown he suggested I get on blogger and dump this shit out on y'all make myself feel better by writin' my thoughts out. I asked him to fix me a half caffeine-free diet coke/half cherry coke zero. {during a commercial break from the NC Stizzle basketball game, duh}

But -
I cried it out, and now I'm back to either normal, or my state of denial - the cryin' fit/total meltdown lasted a total of 20 minutes, start-to-finish.

To end things on a less whack ass note, we ate some bomb ass soup, and y'all deserve to know about it, especially after sufferin' through that shit up top. Whew.

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remember that time we made kale soup?

did you like it?

yeah?

well, you'll looooove this.

it is equally magical.

came from this book from the grandparents for christmas.

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Sausage & Red Cabbage Soup

Go ahead on and put you on some yoga pants and a hoodie.

It's that kinda party.

Thanks so much for bravin' the crazy train tonight, shugpies.