Sure having my heart rate at 130-150 at rest for a few weeks will be just fine. No, no… I’ve been on the meds for four days and it hasn’t done a damn thing. Give it a few weeks? Awesome.
“It’s not like it’s making you feel bad or anything.”
You know what? Fuck you.
They seriously think that? I call and ask for help, and that is what they say. That is what my local cardiologist thinks of me. Because I don’t bitch and moan. Because I try to laugh and smile through everything. Because I try to keep a positive outlook.
But do you know what? No. I don’t feel okay. I’m shaking like crazy, I constantly feel like I’m going to be sick, walking 10 feet makes me short of breath, my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest, my vision blacks out on me if I move too much. Getting dressed in the morning puts my heart rate to 180, talking on the phone gets it to 150, if I’m lying down asleep it’s 120. And this isn’t a few times a week. A few times a month. This is 24/7.
I try to smile through it all to make myself feel better, and in the process I make everyone think I must be fine and dandy.
I dance out of defiance. I KNOW it’s dangerous, but I don’t care. Part of me hopes I dance myself to death one of these days. But I’m not dancing now. I can’t. I can’t stretch on the damn floor without getting my heart rate over 200.
Am I allowed to have a breaking point? Because I really don’t think I am