Heh. Last year, around March or February, I think (I remember writing about it in my diary that I kept for my shrink, that's how I know it was around then- I didn't write any more for him after early March, and I stopped seeing him mid-march, I think...wait. not going to think about that now. don't want to, don't need to. duly noted, moving on.) I went around asking everyone in school if they were sick, especially if the had the flu, and if they did, would they please cough on me? I just really, really wanted to be violently ill. Or at least horribly weak and achy and unable to move kind of ill, if not violently. I'd prefer the weak and achy kind; I really don't like violence.

See, I hadn't been sick, seriously stay-home-and-stare-at-the-ceiling-and-hope-the-jedi-mind-powers-can-get-you-a-glass-of-water sick, since November of eighth grade (Between the 18th and the 22nd, I believe. I missed Ms Baney's birthday party, to which I had promised to bring cookies. Yes, I have a freakish memory. The time before then that I was horribly sick was winter of 7th grade, end of January/start of February. I ate many lemon drops then, and I had a broken thumb. i really like lemon drops. moving on.) when I ran across the school in the middle of history to curse the fact that the nurse was always on lunch break when I wasn't feeling well. Then I ran to the office, was interrogated by the vice principal, and puked in the faculty toilet. I had to be escorted while running, of course; I evidently looked about ready to keel over. 102 fever. Now, why, you may ask, was I wanting to undergo all that misery and fuss and vomitting-of-oatmeal-and-ice-tea so desperately?

I'm still not sure. There's something about being so utterly weak and helpless that's rather transcendental in a self-flaggelating, fasting-for-enlightenment-and-to-emulate-Christ sort of way. But I've never had so high a fever that I've hallucinated, and I've never fainted before, and I have a very strong stomach, though I do get nauseous when viewing graphic car accidents. (Fucking drunk-driving awareness videos. They could've warned us, at least.) So it's not that I get high on cough syrup or on the fever and start seeing pretty colors- there is that added bonus of missing school, though. For the longest time I just wasn't allowed to unless I was so horribly sick that I couldn't move, or that I was so horribly bitchy about it that I couldn't be made to move. (Surprisingly enough, I've never had cramps so bad that I've stayed home- my body has a lovely sense of timing, always saving the gut wrenching, let-me-curl-into-a-ball-now-and-die kind of pain until I get home from school. Grr.) Of course, now my parents no longer care quite as much if I go to school- senior year and all that. (I'm such a pushover, you've no idea. And I'm completely dependent upon other people for things, to the point where I won't question any reasoning adult's decision. Pathetic, actually.)

Regardless, I think it's mostly that I've forgotten how miserable it makes me, and I am, on some very narrow and well hidden level, something of a masochist. Being sick is different from other kinds of pain, though- it isn't precisely pain, it's weakness and misery, and that's different. I don't like pain. Misery, both physical and emotional, I seem to wallow in. Like a pig. But that's beside the point. The real reason is probably that I'm not expected to do anything when I'm sick- I don't have to clean my room or empty the dishwasher or anything annoying like that, and I can just lie in bed and ring a bell for my mom to come running with a glass of water. That's power, you know. The downside, however, is that abuse of this priveledge will result in much misery of the angry parental sort. And that's not fun misery at all. But I enjoy doing nothing, you know. I enjoy it a lot- and when I'm sick, it's like a real vacation from everything- I don't have to do anything, because I can't, and people understand that.

When I went on my "Cough on me, please, someone, anyone, make me sick!" tirade, my parents got wind of it, and they let me stay home from school for a mental health day. *snerk* I was still expected to do laundry, though. *shrug* What can you do?

Hm, still feels like I've got something large and irregularly shaped stuck in my throat, right at the base. Stomach feels rather less than happy, too. Nnnnnnn. >_< I don't wanna be sick now; that won't do me any good. Blaaaaarg.