For me to say that I'm feeling bad in some shape or form?
I admit to having an emotionally bad day -- "Oh, this time of year screws with her."
I admit to feeling physical discomfort -- "Well, -insert name here- has been in pain all day and barely managed to get out of bed."
I'm fucking HUMAN! I'm supposed to feel. I push myself. I feel pain.
Especially, when I go from working to going out, which I wasn't initially planning on doing, to working again with little to no chance to stop and let my body recuperate. When my arms are aching and trembling to the point they don't want to work -- when the muscles in my legs attempt to give out going up the stairs at work leaving me to worry that I was going to have to relive Valentine's day 2006. When I spend the latter part of the day almost dropping drinks that weigh just over a pound. When I finally get a chance to sit down only to have my feet start cramping up because they finally don't have to be flat in a pair of falling apart shoes.
Do I deserve to be treated like some whining little brat? Do I have to be fucking chronically sick just to be allowed to say how I'm feeling?
Don't take this as a condemnation. It's not. It's a statement of how I don't think it's fair that I have to keep my mouth shut when I'm feeling discomfort. How everyone else can go and say how their backs are hurting or their hips are popping out of place, yet if I open my mouth to say something, I keep getting all but told to shut the hell up, in so many words.
I admit to having an emotionally bad day -- "Oh, this time of year screws with her."
I admit to feeling physical discomfort -- "Well, -insert name here- has been in pain all day and barely managed to get out of bed."
I'm fucking HUMAN! I'm supposed to feel. I push myself. I feel pain.
Especially, when I go from working to going out, which I wasn't initially planning on doing, to working again with little to no chance to stop and let my body recuperate. When my arms are aching and trembling to the point they don't want to work -- when the muscles in my legs attempt to give out going up the stairs at work leaving me to worry that I was going to have to relive Valentine's day 2006. When I spend the latter part of the day almost dropping drinks that weigh just over a pound. When I finally get a chance to sit down only to have my feet start cramping up because they finally don't have to be flat in a pair of falling apart shoes.
Do I deserve to be treated like some whining little brat? Do I have to be fucking chronically sick just to be allowed to say how I'm feeling?
Don't take this as a condemnation. It's not. It's a statement of how I don't think it's fair that I have to keep my mouth shut when I'm feeling discomfort. How everyone else can go and say how their backs are hurting or their hips are popping out of place, yet if I open my mouth to say something, I keep getting all but told to shut the hell up, in so many words.