In case you�re wondering, in case you�re sitting there, right now, at your computer, with your finger on the send button, I don�t need a bigger penis. Really, if my penis was any bigger, I would have trouble walking. I would look silly with a big penis. Especially in a dress. Please, remember this when you are creating your distribution list. I�m not likely to buy your penis enlarging cream. Nor do I want to view your webcam. I don�t need Xanax either. There are many things I�m not likely to buy from an anonymous e-mail. I guess I am a picky consumer. Call me crazy.
Since the whole Janet Jackson show the world your boob thing, I�ve become quite googlicious. I�m getting about 10 google hits a day. Of course, no one sticks around to read anything. I�m not that interesting. But it�s fun. And I get to feel incredibly popular. At least for 5 seconds. Does this count as my 15 minutes of fame? I hope not, I was saving that for something spectacular.
So here�s what�s going on in my life. I continue to be incredibly stressed and I continue to eat crap like a girl who didn�t just spend the last year of her life losing 130 pounds. What the hell is wrong with me? Do I really want to sabotage all my hard work? I don�t know what to do, it�s like I have no willpower right now. My resolve is very weak because the pressure is on. Someone take the vise off of my head please.
Why am I so stressed? Well, I�ll get to that in a moment. First, let me tell you what I�m doing today because I�m very excited about it. As I�ve mentioned before, I suffer (not always suffer, but I�ll go with it for now) from Bi-Polar Disorder or Manic-Depressive Illness, whichever name you prefer to go by. I can pinpoint symptoms of this disease leading all the way back to my childhood, but for a variety of reasons I was not diagnosed until I was 25. Because of this gap between the presentation of the disease and the diagnosis, I endured (and I do mean endured, suffered even) many years of hardship as I struggled with the disease. I don�t want other people to go through that. It�s one of the reasons I will freely admit, to anyone with ears, that I do have a mental illness. I am shameless about it. Almost everyone in my life knows and I�m not ashamed. It�s just a fact. And it�s not my fault. So, today, this morning, in about 3 and � hours, I am going to a Women�s Health Day at my old high school (yes, the evil den of torturous nuns) to speak on teenage depression and such. I�m not exactly sure everything I�m going to say yet. I�m giving two speeches, 45 minutes each. I�m simultaneously excited and terrified. Wish me luck.
I was going to go in to a long diatribe about all my stress, but I simply don�t have the time nor the energy to do it right now. I�ll try to post it later. If, for no other reason, than to get it out of my head and onto paper. Maybe I�ll be able to let go of it that way. Lord knows, all the food isn�t helping.
