This is me almost dying a few days ago. *video/audio*

Alright, I didn’t drink from Friday night until Wednesday night. That’s a long time. I noticed two big differences. #1. I don’t wake up shaking like crazy if I don’t drink the night before. #2. I can’t wake up for shit if I don’t drink the night before. So this morning, I was awake at 7:30, shaking like crazy, reaching for the xanax. Is a panic attack every morning worth drinking? Can I afford to not drink, since I can’t get up if I don’t drink the night before? This is insane. I’m going dry again tonight.

Back in the old days I did a particular drug, that I shouldn’t have, for a couple of years. That drug gave me anxiety problems (that’s what I’m blaming it on). To this day, I hate that drug with a passion. I would feel good for a couple of hours, and then I felt like total shit. I hate its effects, and I don’t particularly enjoy hanging around people that are on that drug. …. My point to all of this is, if I learn that drinking just makes me feel bad, I’m really not going to have a hard time with this at all. I don’t even want to drink tonight. Honest. It may give me the same hatred I have for that particular drug.
If you listen closely, I stop breathing from about 1:05-1:45.

I’m going to die.

I pulled a muscle in my back while taking a number two.

As weird as it sounds, I’m still going to divulge.

I came home today feeling great. Well, apart from having to deal with customers. I took some managers of a store of mine to lunch today. I had manicotti with lots of cheeses of all kinds. The whole rest of the afternoon my stomach hurt. I was belching nasty flavored belches. I was tooting. I had slight stomach cramps on top of all of that.

So, when I got home this afternoon, I went for the toilet. I sat down and made the nicest, long, large girthed turd you’ve ever seen in your life. I only had 2 squares of TP to clean up with (which wasn’t enough, so I had to get in the shower directly after), but I used them to the best of my ability and put my lower half’s clothes back on as loosely as possible. I don’t like poopie on my underpants. As soon as I stepped out of the bathroom, my back was killing me. The only thing I can figure is that I either hurt my back, while trying to strain the giant feces out of my bottom, or I hurt it while twisting around to wipe. Definitely the strangest injury I’ve ever had.

I’ve been having chest pains the past couple of days. The day before yesterday, during the afternoon, my chest was hurting pretty bad. I checked my pulse. It was only 120 beats per minute. Jesus. I don’t know what my blood pressure was. I don’t have a cuff at home. 

Last night, I went to bed before my special lady friend. She could hear me snoring from the living room (which she really shouldn’t be able to do. Most people don’t snore that loud). So she got the camera out and video recorded me snoring and breathing (with my eyes slightly opened. creepy.). At one point, you can hear me breathing and then I stop. I start breathing again, with a very loud, abrupt snort 40 SECONDS LATER. I stopped breathing for 40 fucking seconds. Then I go back to a god-awful snore that would wake Abraham. I wonder if this shit has anything to do with the chest pains….? Are there any nurses out there? *ahem*

I’m going to die.

-Beans™