For the last twelve hours I’ve been plagued with the sensation that my underwear is riding up my left butt cheek.
It started last night. At bedtime I was nice and relaxed and felt like I could slip right into sleep without pharmaceuticals. (Hello? Have I learned nothing in the past eleven years?) As soon as I adjusted my many pillows, settled my head into the groove of my contoured pillow and wiggled my body into a non-lumpy spot of my memory foam mattress, I felt it; my underwear creeping up the left side of my butt. I reluctantly reached down to tug my underwear back into place, only to discover that they were in place. The wedgie wasn’t in in my butt, it was in my brain.
I should have gotten up right then and taken a muscle relaxer, but I didn’t. I squirmed around, trying to stay off the imaginary lumps in my bed. As soon as I got semi-comfortable, I felt it again, the sensation of my under riding up my left butt cheek. I tried to ignore it, tried to think of other things as people that don’t have messed up nervous systems are always suggesting. It didn’t work. The sensation screamed at me with all the subtly of a sledgehammer. I reached down and checked. Underwear still in place, not sliding anywhere. WTH?
Then my husband started snoring and I felt the bed and my pillow vibrate. Actually, vibrate. I popped in earplugs and turned to my other side. Immediately stomach acid started dancing around the edges of my esophagus, threatening to spring up, burning my throat. I ignored it. Then, a sudden stab of pain shot through my left foot. Then an electric shock sensation ripped through my right hand. Then my right shoulder started itching. While I squirmed around trying to ease these discomforts, a lump sprang up under my right hip. It felt like I was laying on a rock. I turned back to my other side. Phantom wedgie again.
About one-thirty, I got up and took a muscle relaxer. I ate a Larabar (sometimes eating is the only thing that will calm my agitated nervous system down) and read a book until two-thirty, when I finally felt sleepy enough to go to bed. I sort of slept, then woke up uncomfortable with the type of pain that I call Cardboard Bones.
Right now, sitting here in my chair, my weight holding down the edges of my underwear, the left side still feels like they’re creeping up. I’m about to go change underwear for the third time, even though I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with these.
Last night’s misery was enough for me to call in a refill of my amitriptyline because this is what life was like before I started taking it, every night a battle to quiet my nervous system down enough to drift into the lightest stages of sleep, still aware of my discomfort all the while. I can’t do it again. It drove me to depression and insanity and I don’t want to go back there.
So, I guess I’m back to packing on 5 lbs a year, every year until I’m so fat they have to cut me out of my house to get me to the hospital or the morgue.