Tuesday, September 25, 2012


One of the hardest obstacles in the battle against GP is the continuation of a social life. In a way, it almost screams 'haha, I may throw up all day but suck it, GP, look at me having normal social interactions!'

However, due to the truly amazing coalescence of gastro-related symptoms, social interactions are pretty much out. period.

I think I've finally reached a point in my life where I am mourning this loss. Never again will I be able to spontaneously get drunk with friends. Never again will I be able to go out to a restaurant and order something off the menu without worrying about the far ranging consequences of soup versus the crackers and tic-tacs in my purse. Never again will I be able to enter a bar and actually enjoy the atmosphere drinking entails.

I know this is a ridiculously pessimistic way of looking at things, but it's the honest truth, at least in college. If I look back at the past few years of my life, I really can't remember a good portion of them, and that's because I had the freedom of putting whatever the hell I wanted in my body without fear of hours of throwing up and nausea which remains steady for hours after.

Since the GP really started affecting my life, hitting its worst and continuing downhill from there in around November of 2011, I have felt this loss. Repeatedly. The worst part of this loss takes place in several stages:

Stage One: Receiving requests from friends to hang out/drink/go out tonight and subsequent refusal without a real explanation of why.
Stage Two: Repeatedly denying requests from friends to hang out/drink/whatever, with small explanation of stomach problems.
Stage Three: People stop asking you to do things because they know you'll say no, and become frustrated with you due to your complete de-evolution from social butterfly to couch caterpillar.

Although my friends do understand to some extent about my social limitations, it's hard for them. I do give a few of my friends some serious credit though-they make time for me, even if they aren't in Santa Barbara, to just come and hang out, talk, maybe smoke a little--changing the scenario of hanging out into one that's suitable for me. Namely, no food involved.

I am ridiculously lucky to have these people in my life, those that are willing to just sit around, listen to me complain, and make me laugh instead of wallowing in pity with me. These are the only components that my 'loss' has allowed me to keep and i will treasure them.

However, I will say that the absolute worst part of living around people who still maintain the freedoms I've lost is the jealousy. Do I want to go drink every night and rage my face off at the age of 24? No. But would I like to have a few beers and watch the football game? Hell yes. That has been my favorite activity since I came to college. Stanford + ShockTop + Game Win. That was an explicit equation to my personal happiness.

The jealousy kills though, especially in terms of the BF, who still drinks like he just turned 21. It honestly feels like at some points that he's throwing it in my face that he still has the ability to go out and party and essentially has freedom, while I remain chained to my bed in my apartment, trying to hold down my yogurt bites.

I think that at some point, I will get over this 'loss,' this lack of being able to live the life of a normal person and not of a formerly entertaining ghost of a person.

But, I think right now, in wake of my recent diagnosis of GP, I am allowed to wallow. and wallow I shall.

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