So I just discovered that I’m getting my head cracked open in May. Yes, I’m going to have an operation in which they’re going to dig into my skull.
I was trying to avoid telling anyone about it, but my dad came last night and told me he’s scheduling it for right after graduation. I have five months to anxiously wonder if I’m going to live through this thing. It feels like a death sentence, like I know exactly how I’m going to die and I’m speeding toward it like a bullet from a gun.
I was looking forward to May, because I’m graduating with a Master’s Degree in Applied Psychology. Blood, sweat, and tears went into this degree.
Now I want December to be as long as it possibly can be.
They keep saying it’s a simple procedure. I don’t believe them. Nothing is simple about opening up somebody’s fucking head. Nothing is simple about surgery.
My blood sugar is also unstable, again.
And I’ve been having many, many panic attacks, much pf them because of this.
And of course I can forget about publishing any books.
I haven’t told any of my friends or cousins or uncles or aunts.
I don’t plan on ever telling them.
Lol @ my life.