When I was a kid I ate so many sourballs that my tongue actually began to bleed. It took days for my taste buds to return to their normal state and for my tongue to return to it’s normal colour.
Excessive to the point of total self-destruction has been a continuing theme throughout my life, and I often wonder if I am even capable of being anything but that way. And if I could be another way… would I?
I don’t smoke, but when I drink, I’m Sailor Sue with a truckers mouth and a pack a day habit. I don’t have a problem with food, but I just gorged on olives to the point of stomach pain, nausea and not being able to say the word “olive” without gagging.
I’m not supposed to drink while taking my medication, but I convinced myself that Red wine was the exception and that I’d be fine… Fine, if fine means a throbbing, buzzing brain, nausea, insomnia, dehydration, 3 Advils and a Gravol.
I don’t drink a glass of milk, I stand at the counter with one hand on the jug, and the other hand downing the glass of milk as if it’s a contest to chug the fastest. I once drank an entire bag of milk in one standing and then felt very sick.
TV isn’t a big thing in my life, but when I do watch it, I really get into my shows (usually series) and watch them On Demand so that I can sit there and watch 4 or 5 episodes in a row. If a show doesn’t make me addicted, it’s not worth watching. I’m craving the return of Dexter.
Nothing is ever “okay” or “fine”; it’s FUCKING HORRIBLE or AMAZING!!! No Grey skies, just Black or White, good or bad, simple or hard, yes or no. When I like something, I don’t just like it, I obsess over it, I engross myself in it, I slather it all over my body, mind and soul until I become so sick of it that it disgusts me to look at it or think about it.
Like olives… I don’t think I can eat olives again for a long time.