Not Quite Tietze's

About this time last night, I felt tightness in my chest. I didn't think too much of it at first, but when I woke up this morning it was still there.

I knew it wasn't a heart attack (I'm about 20 years too young for one, and I had none of the other typical symptoms) but I started to grow just the tiniest bit concerned because this tightness is accompanied by difficulty breathing and pain whenever I take deep breaths, so I thought it'd be a good idea to call my primary care doctor, just to hear her say 'oh, it's just asthma' or something.

Instead, I was told to take my arse immediately to the hospital...which I wasn't at all expecting to hear. I also wasn't able to do it since no one was available to see me at work until later that afternoon. She wasn't too thrilled with me, but I had to tell her I had no choice.

So I wound up being seen this afternoon (and my car getting hit by some confused elderly man on the way there *twitches*) and the doctor tells me it's Costochondritis, which is actually not that serious at all. Here's the mayoclinic definition:

Costochondritis is an inflammation of the cartilage that connects a rib to the breastbone (sternum). It causes sharp pain in the costosternal joint — where your ribs and breastbone are joined by rubbery cartilage. Pain caused by costochondritis may mimic that of a heart attack or other heart conditions.

Your doctor might refer to costochondritis by other names, including chest wall pain, costosternal syndrome and costosternal chondrodynia. When the pain of costochondritis is accompanied by swelling, it's referred to as Tietze syndrome.

Most cases of costochondritis have no apparent cause. In these cases, treatment focuses on easing your pain while you wait for costochondritis to resolve on its own.

And that's probably going to be the last bit of excitement from me for the rest of the month (or so I pray...)

Wherein the Ice Queen Shows Emotion

Okay, this is going to be a looong 'real' post because I've got a lot to get off of my chest. You have been warned.

Lately, my life has been...chaotic. I'm not sure I'm 100% able to talk about it, but I'm going to try.

People that know me could tell ya I'm close to my family. My role in the family--which I would best describe as counselor/peacemaker/judge--tends to put me in the middle of any and all bad ish that happens. Which sucks on the one hand, but I feel better trying to help people at least.

Anyway, what I'm in the middle of now is probably the ugliest divorce the south has ever seen. I'm talking threats, cutting up credit cards, yelling, tears, screaming, calling the others parents, the whole nine yards. It's ugly and it's really doing nothing to help my marriage-phobia. Right now, I'm in this fubar situation where I can say nothing to either party or I'm labeled as a traitor by the other. It's gotten to the point where I've had to tell them both to leave me out of it. It's stressful as hell, but damned if I haven't been getting a lot of writing done!

I'm probably too old to care about my parents' divorce, and to be honest, I don't really. This is over twenty years over due, and I know well enough why they stayed together this long. I think what bothers me most is seeing my so called 'adult' parents revert to what I consider childish behavior.

Which brings me to my former relationship with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (I'm going to call him Voldemort for short from now on). When I've got a lot on my mind, I tend to write or clean. While on a cleaning jag, I stumbled across a pair of handcuffs (part of an old Halloween costume, I promise), over six dollars in change, and a box full of things from when Voldemort and I were together.

Going through that box once upon a time, would have been the hardest thing in the world for me to do (a year ago), but it was actually not that bad. I did feel the occasional pang when I found pictures of us together, but then I stumbled across the biggest of all the mines in that emotional minefield. A paper diary.

Paper diaries for me have always been a somewhat desperate attempt to collect myself in an emotional moment, or to work out a situation (kind of like talking to yourself on paper), or just to unload thoughts and memories somewhere so they weren't rattling around my brain. I found pages of entries on events I'd forgotten. Times where I was ecstatically over the moon in love with him and the world and everything in it, and more often, times where I felt hurt, unworthy, or anxious; which won't be entirely surprising for those that know the story about the FINAL breakup.

I was so stunned reading those entries. I sounded like a different person then. The tone in most of them was self-deprecating, resigned, almost scared like a cornered animal at times. I'd forgotten all of those times. It's scary to me how much of the bad times I forgot, and how very much of the good times I remember. I called myself a masochist in one of the entries, and thinking back to how many times I took him back, maybe that holds some merit.

I've been told I should hate him for what he's done, and I did try. But I can't, any more than I can hate a bee for stinging me, or a lion in a circus for taking a bite out of its so called tamers. It's his nature. Which in V's case, isn't a good excuse, but it's still true. I loved him. Maybe I still do a little bit.

If given the test of, 'what would you do if you came across him on fire in the street', I wouldn't throw gasoline on him, but I wouldn't be so quick to risk my life in order to save him either. Maybe I'll always love him, like the chicks in every single romance say, but I need him out of my life. I've 'divorced' him and my life has become so much better. I don't need to exaggerate how much happier I am in nearly every aspect of my life now; it's pretty obvious to everyone that knows me, especially him.

Which brings me back to my original topic. I'm glad I can't say anything to either one of them, because if I could, I'd tell them that divorce is the best idea either one of them has had ever and that it's 26 years overdue. Probably an announcement that wouldn't endear me to either one of them, but I don't particularly care at this point. Very freeing, that.

*~*Claire out*~*