Some Posts (10 08 2022)

Post 01:

After the first day of increasing the rabepresol to twice a day, the EoE and esophagus problems feel a million times better... BUT I'm getting heart flutters, muscle spasms, and muscle soreness. Ugh.

Post 02:

I think this EoE medication, rabepresol, is causing an irregular heartbeat for me. I've been on a higher dose for two days now. I want to take it because I'm in hell with the esophagus problems. But I also don't want to have a heart attack.

Post 03:

Maybe the filthy bed sheets are causing the EoE? I haven't washed my sheets in months. I'll wash my old sheets and change them to the new ones my mother bought tomorrow. I was going to wait until Tuesday for the cleaning ladies to do it. But I'll do it myself.

Post 04:

I need to be an adult and clean my apartment because it's totally contaminated air in here that's making me sick. I know the air purifier is blue which means the air is fine, but I have my SUSPICIONS the air in here is not fine. I've been home all day long in here for MONTHS.

Post 05:

Even if it's the filthy apartment that I'm home all day long in that's making me sick, it's nobody's responsibility to clean and take care of me besides myself. It's not my mothers or fathers. If I want to live in a pigsty, I'm 35 years old, it's my fault if I develop cancer.

Post 06:

My parents are leaving me solitary, hoping I start handling adult responsibilities myself, and start taking care of myself. But the truth is I'm sinking. They're neglecting me, not intervening, doing nothing while I metaphorically die in here. It feels like I'm literally dying.

Post 07:

When I tell you how a few months ago my apartment was HORRIFYING and probably the filthiest place on Long Island - that's not hyperbole. The bathroom is vomit-inducing, there's decaying food everywhere, and I don't clean. It's probably given or in the process of giving me cancer.

Post 08:

I want ex-girlfriends to come back into my life and save me from this hell.

I want my parents to do something.

But it's MY RESPONSIBILITY to save myself... What's happening, though, is I'm literally dying being neglected in solitude. This is not hyperbole. It's FACT!

Post 09:

I want my mother to clean, wash my bed sheets, and clean my bathroom. She hasn't in YEARS. My apartment is more disgusting than videos and pictures make it appear. It is beyond disgusting. No sane person would want to step foot in here unless they were getting paid to clean.

Post 10:

Imagine trying to bring a girlfriend or friends over to this apartment, I haven't had any friends over in a year. Besides one male friend briefly, over a year ago, for like 20 minutes... The only friend who has ever come over to my apartment is my ex-girlfriend. That's it!