When The Body Attacks Itself

"Autoimmune disorders are diseases caused by the body producing an inappropriate immune response against its own tissues. Sometimes the immune system will cease to recognize one or more of the body’s normal constituents as “self” and will create antibodies that attack its own cells, tissues, and/or organs."
They argue as to what to do with me and try to force me to make decisions I know little about. The traditional doctors say to not take the medicine yet since there is some functioning in my glands and more medicine might worsen my heart and lungs; however, the homeopathic doctor says to take the medicine because this may help my glands and relieve the problems associated with my heart and lungs.

For now, I've decided to do neither. I am going to wait. Lab results show I am so off in so many areas that it is possible that some homeopathic medicines may help significantly but that they may be slow to assist as my heart condition worsens at a quicker pace. I am still going to wait.

The whole autoimmune problem actually makes perfect sense to me. I mean, for the majority of my life my body has been on high-alert and attacked. Also, when there was no outside source doing the attacking then I did plenty of it on my own. I've cut myself ... overdosed myself ... starved myself ... how could this body know any different? The big question is can it be re-taught to not attack itself and if so, then how?

I'd Like To Put Down My Gun Please

Insomnia is back. I haven't been able to make myself go to bed for weeks now. It is not as if I am not tired or sleepy but that I have to practically wrestle myself just to go to bed. I can't lie still. There have been times when I've managed to sneak around the issue by sleeping on the couch but this is not reliable enough. Last night I was up until 4:30am when I finally took myself to bed with my mp3 player -- headphones in ears. I was awoken a couple hours later by a cat chewing on them. I should have known better.

Today is another rare beautiful day and I was hoping to get out and enjoy it for a change but all I can seem to do thus far is cry. I've tried everything: psychotherapy, music, relaxation techniques, warm milk, mega-drugs. Nothing helps lately. For weeks this has been going on.

Selling Out Your Heroes

Today I sit at my desk stewing my blood pressure to greater heights as I listen to management around me dividing up my job duties amongst a list of overseas staff. Often, developers become so entrenched in their products that it becomes very personal. This particular project is personal to me. I put it's insides together, I molded it and I shaped it. It feels as if they may as well be dividing up one of my own cats. "Ok, who gets the thigh and who gets the leg?"

Heartless. It has all been heartless. Management had started pursuing me in March and despite working seventy hours a week under lousy circumstances, I turned them down three times before finally conceding to their alleged ideal working conditions and pay. A week into the job the company was acquired by a larger company (who was later acquired by an even larger company) and it was announced that all developer jobs will go to India. My job was going away.

Next Friday the thirteenth will be my last day. I am the only developer left and then there will be none. I do not have to say that now is not a good time to be unemployed but that is not what bothers me the most. What eats away at me is that they knowingly lied to lure me from a permanent job to one that would be gone. There is no doubt upper management knew my fate but proceeded anyway just to get a couple projects out the door a little faster.

So here I sit listening to them. With the profit they are making, they do not care. There are 50 developers in India that are replacing the six in this office alone. I can't imagine how that is possible. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't met them on the phone. I've been patient and professional but, sitting here now ... my rage has not only sprouted but multiplied into a monster living in my chest.

I open up the command prompt and remember a developer who simply deleted his entire hard drive, picked up his stuff, and walked out the door. He had helped make this company from it's first day of existence and was devastated. I listen to the suits, then look at the blinking prompt waiting my next move ... I ponder ... then I debate some more ... but finally, I type 'exit' and the window closes. Picking up my backpack, I tell myself that I just won't come back -- leave their product hanging undone -- but I think of the customer and I know I won't.

Washed Underneath Into Cold

One minute here, a few hours later there. Wind causes a scraping sound, a numbness begins to settle within my eyes, the fog appears inside my head, I lose my breath as my chest begins to pound. Not a good year for pounding. I used to fight it, "no", I'd say, but I've been so tired with no sleep and everything becomes like a movie happening to someone else and at any time I will be pulled underneath the cold current and washed away to a place I do not remember so that I do not care. The smell of fresh damp soil and BANG a slow-motion movie playing in my head and bang I am somewhere else yet again.

I am not stupid. I am not completely psychotic. I am CoNSISTENt:

http://the-war-within.blogspot.com/2007/08/haunted-in-august.html

http://the-war-within.blogspot.com/2007/08/haunted-in-august-ii.html

http://the-war-within.blogspot.com/2007/08/haunted-in-august-iii.html

http://the-war-within.blogspot.com/2007/10/haunted-in-october.html

http://the-war-within.blogspot.com/2007/10/chase-run.html

http://the-war-within.blogspot.com/2009/10/haunted.html

Haunted

it appears each year - I look back on these posts
pervading darkness sweeping me away

lost
one minute here, next minute there
same danger
same dark
same cold
same soil
same terror


*"Can you tell me where I am
Won't you say something
I need to get my bearings
I'm lost
And the shadows keep on changing

I'm haunted
By the lives that I have loved
And actions I have hated
I'm haunted
By the lives that wove the web
Inside my haunted head"

*Poe

spewing rem

jaw & shoulders clenching
all hold buckled crackles
plaster starts to wrench
reluctant from it's wall

blood struggles, churns, and boils
pressurized beyond control
air imprisoned, clogged, and wheezing
reluctant hope falls

darkened doors open slightly
nightmares rake the spine and soul
milligrams beckon free is near
reluctant back to hell i crawl

Heros = Cons

Green Day - "21st Century Breakdown"

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