Will deployed to Iraq and I’m in our home in North Carolina with our boys. Will doesn’t call or write very often and it’s easy to pretend that I’m alone. I don’t particularly enjoy it when he does call because our conversations are all about the business of being married and the occasional sneak-attack to tell me I’m ruining his children.
The odd physical sensations and symptoms I’m having turned out to be the result of sinusitis. I can breathe just fine, but I have mucus backed up nearly to my brain. Don’t know how that happens, but hey, now I know it can.
However, because we’re supposed to handle things on our own, so I didn’t go for a checkup when the odd equilibrium and swooshing sounds symptoms began. Instead I ran around the house unplugging everything convinced the electricity was fucking with my head. With my history it’s easier to believe I am going crazy and not think to visit a doctor. It is easier to act like I am crazy instead of going to a doctor and breaking out with the truth of this pain. We’re strong little soldiers, my boys and me.
When I do go to the doctor, she says I could have developed a brain infection and died if I had avoided her much longer. Mucus doesn’t belong in the brain.
Abuse works its way into everything we do and say, and influences our decisions insidiously. Physical, mental, emotional symptoms play out as depression, anxiety, fibromyalgia, and apparently, sinusitis and more.
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