It’s somehow coming to the conclusion that the only way to make this night tolerable is write a blog (maybe the first ever) while on the toilet unable to shit.
It’s waking up in the morning and checking Facebook to see that you’ve lost another friend. Nobody unfriended you or defriended you. They just had ALS and they died.
It’s one minute caring a lot about a hair style or the latest crazy idea turned into a big project and wishing the next minute that you could just die already.
It’s feeling a fist sized shit rip your asshole open and not being able to bear down or catch a breath. It’s that you have this feeling not once but twice in one day even though you cut out morphine and had a prune smoothie.
It’s 21 drugs and counting and wondering when you will be dubbed the fucking Baskin Robbins of pill poppers.
It’s realizing that expecting a clear sign that it’s time to die is like driving down a pitch black remote country road and expecting to hear “All Things Considered” or “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me,” instead of hours of white noise and static mixed with snippets of some crazy fundamentalist ranting about the gays and the Jews.
It’s paying a heavy price for every fun day.
It’s wondering why the others like Megan or Scott seem to handle so much more crap than you do and wondering if you are a wimp or if you’ve just had enough.
It’s running out of words but still not passing this fucking ball of shit.
It’s realizing that life is a no good rotten man who beats on you and cheats on you and looks just like Jon Hamm as he stares in your eyes and whispers softly “come on baby, you know we are meant for each other.” And instead of wanting to quit him, you wanna hang in there for one more great shag. Fuck you Jon Hamm.
It’s knowing that someone is going to commiserate with you by saying, “Girl, I know what you mean. I was constipated once” and you are going to have to bite your tongue and not say, “Unless you have ALS, you do NOT know how I feel unless you’ve rubbed a cheese grater across your asshole for a good 10 minutes at least.”