Pride Dethroned03:51 Aug 18 2012
Times Read: 577
For as long as I can remember, I tried to avoid a lifeforbidden in which I admitted to myself that I was different from most people. When my friends shied away from me for no recognizable reason, when my health shifted from one extreme to the other, even when I had my first taste of human blood.
I was young then. Young, and I was terrified. So, being proactive even then, I went directly to my parents. My father was unabashedly disturbed. My mother? Quietly concerned. After a barrage of medical and psychological tests, there was no reasonable explanation for what I had decided was the right course of action: Read, drinking blood. Up until the age of 11 or so, I was a pretty sickly kid. My nicknames consisted of offensive handles like: Spaghetti Legs, Skeletor, and 'that weird girl'. But no matter how much I ate, or how active I was, that didn't seem to change for a very long time. But at twelve, I experienced my first kiss, and my first accidental taste of human blood.
A boy, a year older than me, got into a fight to defend me from a bully, and acquired a very nice busted lip. I felt a huge surge of...something. It was like I could feel the energy and anxiety and fear and adrenaline rolling off him in waves. Insomuch that it was tangible. I could literally taste it. And then, I kissed him. I licked his lip in such a way that was not so romantic as it was biological. He froze, smiled, and then... I never saw him again.
For weeks after I felt feral, restless, nervous. Confused. I slept little, and ate ravenously, to no avail. It was never enough. After all the medical tests, and hearing there was nothing wrong with me, I decided to prick my own finger for another taste of...life. It was a wholly unpleasant experience. Not only did I not care for hurting myself, but the taste of my own blood was acidic and sour on my tongue. I found other means shortly thereafter, and stupidly subsisted on blood that was probably less than safe from meats and the like.
But something happened. Over the summer, I blossomed into something else. I was still short, but I filled out, and became more bold. Even my childhood asthma went entirely away. That may be attributed to simply growing up, but I'm not so sure.
Fast forward some years, and I've gone through a second round of physical and psychological tests to figure out 'what was wrong' with me. Again, tests were inconclusive or "normal". The only anomaly was that I have an extra vertebrae in my spine. I was completely healthy, normal, and declared sound of mind.
I met my husband, who is my best friend, companion, and also my long time donor. When I fell gravid with our daughter, my body tried it's damndest to reject the fetus, and to expel her from my body. I believe sheer will alone is what allowed me to carry to term and deliver a healthy child, though she was underweight at birth. The doctors say that my body viewed her as an illness, and was releasing white blood cells en masse to cleanse itself of her.
This would not be the last time my body would betray me. In fact, the reason I am here today, seeking help...a mentor...information.... is that it's doing it now. I feed with regularly frequency from my donor, but lately.... it does not seem enough. I have been experiencing EXCRUCIATING leg cramps if I do not take from him more regularly than normal. I do not sleep, no matter how tired I become, until I drink of him. And my appetite has spiked again. I cannot get enough food. No matter how much I eat, it's never enough, and I never gain weight. I feel like I am exhausting my donor, myself, and my wallet....trying to understand what's going on with me.
I am really hoping that there will be someone here that can help me understand what is going on with me. Because the doctors sure can't give me the answers I need.
I am begging.
COMMENTS
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Isis101
06:21 Aug 27 2012
Well...maybe you can do it again, as an actual 'blue moon' is coming on the night of the 31st...lol.
darkenedhope
17:09 Aug 27 2012
Gummi bear hugs from me !! :)