Take Care of Yourself like a Boss B*tch!
Exhausted, I arrived at the bar, bag thrown on the stool, wine, then another. Hunger pains from skipping lunch, I fixed my gaze on the bartender. SAVE ME. The burger arrived, dripping with cheese and hope. While the type of beverage changed, maybe a red today? The mission remained clear: drown out work stress and hope the long drag of nicotine erased my drag-of-a-day.
Binge TV led to restless nightmares about being late for work, followed by actually being late. My boss said, “That’s the Spirit!” in response to my beaten arrival. A greasy McDonald’s Egg and Sausage McMuffin in one hand and greasy hash brown in the other seemed - a glimmer of enjoyment? Fighting through crowds — welcome to the sweaty morning rush in Sydney CBD. Maybe I’d stop for some painkillers; my head was pounding.
After many months, days, years of this; one day; my body screamed like an eery wounded animal. Stabbing pains began to live within my body constantly. A flower-shaped rash spread over my stomach, and I could hardly walk from being so bloated. And then it happened every day. I used to wake up feeling normal. Something had broken, and it scared the sh*t out of me. The doctors said, Oh, it’s “IBS”, or looked confused. I would say now, looking back, I just hit breaking point.
Can you relate? I see you.
