WARNING – This blog may contain language that people may find offensive.
My friend reminded me the other day that I was once a person who did not swear. I made a point of it. I believed that the less one swore, the more it meant when you actually did swear. A bit like telling somebody that you love or hate them I guess . The rarity makes the use extraordinary. I still believe this by the way. However, on the swearing front, it is just too fucking late. Gone are the days where I replaced the emphasise with random words like ‘fish eggs’, and in are days where I just say ‘fuck’, a lot. It makes me feel so much fucking better. I am also on a shit load of fucking steroids and they make me so angry, everybody and I mean everybody is either a wanker, a dick, a prick or if I am feeling really unladylike, a pillock.
I am on mother fucking steroids. MOTHER FUCKING BASTARD BULLSHIT ARSE WIPE STEROIDS.
The PADIMAC steroids intake was plentiful, but it was top ended into Days 1-4 and then I was free of them for the remaining 17 days of the cycle. I can say now that I never felt the ‘roid rage. Well, not as I imagined it to be, in an Incredible Hulk, I am going to go out and perpetrate violent crimes sort of way. I was emotional and I cried a lot, but I never experienced the caricature of ‘roid rage. On VDT/VTD, I take steroids, Dexamethasone to be precise, every week, twice a week. I can confirm that I am experiencing the Rage, in all its glory and it is fucking mental.
For the last fortnight, I have constantly felt like I am on the cusp of something regrettable. I want to shout at everything and everybody and I do not want to shout at anything in particular. I am holding on to the irrationality of my anger, in the vain hope that at the point of eruption, my better self will remind me that what I am feeling, is a result of my drugs and not my person. I bloody hate it. This side effect is a wank stain. It really is. I do not know what is real, and it is made worse because the anger is almost also accompanied by a want or need to cry. I am awash with emotions and there is not a damn fucking thing I can do about it. I think it would be fine if I was just a steroid abuser, pumping iron in the gym to build up my biceps without a care in the world apart from my physique, but the problem we have with my sorry life is that I actually have a reason to be angry and a reason to be upset. Distinguishing between the feelings that are real and the feelings that are enhanced by steroids is next to impossible.
There are not enough words to describe them. If you promise to not go out and commit a crime, maybe I’ll share some with you? Just so you can see… It was at its worse last week, when I felt like I could not breathe. My outlook was grey or red and there was nothing in between. I actually thought the time had finally come to smash some plates. There was, correction, is, no outlet for it. The feeling is always here, hanging out with me, bubbling away. I fear it. I feel like I am constantly having to tell myself ‘don’t react, it is the drugs, it’s those bitch of a drug, it’s their fault, not yours, you are not mad, it is okay, you are sunny.’ It’s unreasonable and my reassurance is not reassuring. I know it is unreasonable, that I am being unreasonable, but I’ll be damned if I’ll listen to anybody else telling me it is unreasonable. That would only make matters worse.
The feeling, the Rage, can start from something real, like my current misgivings about my lost time or something ridiculous, like my utter hatred of insensitive Facebook updates and then my mind will spiral. Everything and anything will pop in there and it is so difficult to shake it off. I fixate. I dwell. I mope. Today, I spent most the day by myself, and I felt like I was playing mental Jenga all day. Fortunately, I only wobbled, I didn’t collapse completely, but my ability to collapse was always there and the worst thing was, I knew it was there. The steroids told me so. I cannot fucking bear it. I am strong. I should be stronger than the drugs. My Myeloma is stronger than the drugs. See? . It is little things like that. The anger is not directed anywhere.
I will just have to remember my twin’s magic words, ‘It’s just da ‘roids’. It is. I know it is. Thank you, Laurie.
I am going to say this once and only once… Steroids are such a fucking cunt.