I've already come down with a cold, and it's not even October. I'm guessing the reason behind my illness is my recent penchant for drinking myself into oblivion and seriously reducing the efficiency of my immune system. But despite that and despite the discomfort I am currently experiencing, I am secretly relishing in my misery. I refuse to take any cold medicine, with the exception of cough drops, and I'm not nearly drinking enough water because it hurts to swallow. But I like feeling like my head is going to explode from congestion, and I enjoy having my throat hurt for a reason other than my fingers deciding to probe it for my own masochistic pleasure.
I guess, although this isn't a surprise, I just like being in pain, and I'm not sure why. Part of it, I believe, is because it keeps me grounded and focused on the fact that I am alive. Sometimes I get so caught up in my own fantasy land, struggling to find the differences between my dreams and reality (literally, I confuse them), that it helps to feel something and keep me aware of my physicality. Maybe that's strange, but I can't help it. It reminds me of how sometimes I refuse to go to sleep for the sole reason that it will make me feel unbelievably crummy...and no other reason except maybe to delay the following day. It helps me to concentrate on something other than self starvation or self induced stomach ejection, putting those on the back burner while I focus on another pain.
And some guy told me today he liked how I was laid back and not crazy like other girls...ironic. At least I keep all my stress and torture inside because it's nice to not appear insane.