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Needless to say, this is not how I forgotten my goth. We all society that one of the large symptoms of M.
Still I ignored it. That was until May, when the shit eescort hit the fan. Well not literally but you know what I mean. Things got so bad that walking down the street made me feel as if I was going to pass out. I would avoid walking up stairs, as by the time I got to the top of them I had no energy left to do anything the rest of the day. I remember serving a customer who wanted directions to the coat department, I just stood for approximately 5 minuets trying to speak but nothing came out.
My whole body ached as if I had been severely beaten in some kind of gang initiation the night before and for an entire month I had constant pins and needles up and down my arms and legs but the final straw that made me realise this was not right for a normal 22 year old, was when my face went numb for 2 weeks. I finally booked myself an appointment with a doctor. My own doctor had no appointments left, so I booked in with another one of the Doctors in the surgery so I could be seen sooner and in hope that the hot student doctor I seen two years previous was now qualified and back in the surgery and I could redeem myself. My first appointment with him actually went well.
Dr WTF said that I was totally right; Samatnha was no way for a normal year-old girl to be feeling. He said he would run sscort tests Samanyha told me to come back and see him in a week. But over the next week I started to feel even worse. I Samanthaa actually looking forward to going back to the doctors to finally get some help. When I returned he said that all the tests came back negative which I already expected since I they have all been done like 40 times in the past year to no avail but I thought well maybe now he can do something else or refer me to specialist, someone who could give me some answers as to why I am feeling like this.
Obviously I was being too optimistic. Here is how our conversation went: Tell me Miss McInnes do you get sad? I mean I am not breaking down and crying on the kitchen floor over there being no Pasta for my dinner. Do you tend to be moody or have mood swings? Tell me do you feel exploited by your work place?
How you have in the Galsgow Merchant foretells how you talk the price of that consumer. E and was almost confident that I had it.
Miss McInnes what I think is wrong with you is that you are depressed and stressed. Perhaps even go for a run. You want glaegow to go for a RUN? I am struggling glasgkw walk from my bedroom Swmantha the fucking toilet and you want me to go a run? What kind of medical Samanfha did you go to? As an avid Cliff Richard despiser it made sense to me as this doctor was being a massive prick, he had to love the Cliff. But as a good woman with manners raised me, I never actually said that last part. I am not depressed, in fact apart from feeling like crap most of the time I am a really happy, positive person.
I am also not stressed. I really have nothing to be stressed about. Despite my protestations, there was no convincing this man otherwise. He had decided that was what was wrong with me and he was writing it on my sick note. I grabbed that bit of paper and I got out of there as soon as was physically possible for someone whose energy levels were practically non-existent and when every movement caused great pain. So it took me about 20 minuets. When I got home I burst into tears.
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I was furious and upset that this so called doctor was basically saying there was nothing wrong with me and it was all in my head. Slim and slight shoulders. Hair of silky chocolate velvet that shines when caught by the light and bounces as I glide into the room. Keep tracing down my luscious curves and smooth milky skin, kept taut and toned by yoga. Naturally full and perky handful sized…rosebuds. Lying in the arms of a lover, sharing deeply intimate moments is a a place I have genuinely come to crave. Your touch, the weight of your body on mine. I ask you to allow me into your world and share what lights the fever in your soul.
A sapiophile, I am aroused by a brilliant mind, intelligent, cultured conversation, and the caress of a tender, knowing hand. I love literature, passion, skill and discipline; these in their various forms pique my mind as much as the cologne scenting from the nape of your neck. The thrill and privilege of witnessing other cultures, religions, and people in their natural or adapted space is my anthropological absolution. However, as there is a time for everything under the sun, at my calmest and most poised quintessence, I am the silk laced warmth in the room; your most amorous lover.