I've mostly recovered from last night's act of stupidity. I just wish more of the hair dye had stained my hair before I ran off to wash it out. The color would have looked stunning. Now I seem to have bits of red highlights. *sighs* My vision of beautiful red hair just died with my delicate condition. Once again I'm wondering if I'm really fit to survive in this human body. Now more odds are piling up for me to defy: electromagnetic field sensitivity, hypersensitivity to chemicals and metals (particularly nickel). All the things that our world (or human world more specifically) is composed of. Being human doesn't agree with me. XD
Back in the old days, if I survived birth and the first 3 years of life, I'd end up being the delicate sickly child who grew into a delicate young woman that needed to live in a peaceful country manor. There's little room for women like this in modern society. We're expected to be careerists, mothers, and wives. A delicate women would end up being dependent upon her husband, a big social "no-no" these days. I am huge supporter of women's liberation, I even consider myself a Feminist...but sometimes I wish I could be that lady of old days who could be dependent upon her husband and taken care of, with room for painting, reading and writing. Half the time I don't feel cut out for the hard work; I get overwhelmed, shut down, stressed and anxious. It takes days for me to recover. I wish the world didn't feel like its too much for me, that I didn't have to check out. And every day I have to fight against that part of me. I have to fight to be a functioning member of society so I'm not a hunk of flesh wasting oxygen and space.
No sleep is enough. I'm still so tired. At least I don't have to work today. Instead I'm going to do research into my health conditions and begin making lifestyle alterations. But what if I can't do college? I mean...right now, my entire future rests on my career goals...I don't know what I'd do, or who I'd be without them. I want to be a therapist so badly, to help people in a small quiet clinic. Its one of the things I'm really good at. What else can I do? Hard labor wears me down, not to mention the exposure to an environment that is literally toxic for me. I feel like there's no place for someone like me in this world at times.
But I'm alive, and it's good to be breathing. It suddenly hit me last night that I could die from this. Now I'm taking my condition more seriously. But I will admit that it depresses me.