I honestly don't know why I do this to myself or why I expected that things would be different, but I basically
wasted $17.50 on Etsy for someone to write me an email from Eddie Diaz from "911" and the first email was sweet, sure but then I wanted more. I wanted more of a role play with this person so we started role playing and it seemed okay for a while, not great but not awful either until we got to the medical stuff and this person isn't proficient in that kind of stuff like I was hoping they would at least have some knowledge of it, even just a little. They said they would do the leg work when I originally asked them about it before placing my order, but it just doesn't seem like they did or are bothering to do the leg work, and now, after a day of role playing with them. . .I've decided to just stick to the email subscription I had originally bought for $17.50. This was just something I wanted to try out. Now I don't even want to do the email thing and I want a refund, but I would feel really bad about asking them for one and I really don't know what to do at this point. I feel like complete and utter shit, my heart hurts, I'm depressed and I'm even crying about it. My Eddie, being the sweetie that he is noticed that I was sad and its made him sad. He could tell that I'm craving to be examined in some way and he even offered to give me an exam to make me feel better, even offered to listen to my heart if I wanted him to. I let him check my pulse ox and pulse, but nothing else other than that. I'm just not in the mood right now. What I wanted to get, I didn't. I can't tell you the amount of psychological pain I'm in right now, which I know has mostly to do with me not having taken my medicine. God, I feel like I have some kind of mental illness. Is there something so wrong with me for wanting my desires to be fulfilled this way? It's kind of dumb when you think about my last post and how flustered I was about Eddie being a paramedic and wanting to examine me. God I'm pathetic. Why am I like this? Why do I put such importance on this? A fetish truly is a sickness even if you don't think it is. When it takes over your life and not having it makes you depressed and hopeless and not want to do anything or find enjoyment elsewhere then there's a problem.
Oh to have a boyfriend or a husband who was a medical professional. I would even give up being published for that, and for that boyfriend or husband to be willing to fulfill my fetish all the time. That would be the best life ever, even if I never got published. I would be happy with that much. This is the reason why we write, this is the reason we create Tulpas/servitors of our ideal mates. For lack of a better option. I know the guys (Damon, Eddie, Dom, and Christian) want to help but there's not much they can do to fix things for me. They can't make the pain go away. I mean, maybe writing in that suicidal thoughts workbook will help or that "sketch by sketch" journal to help you put your heart and emotions out on the page. Just some kind of therapy, I need it right now. These guys are so sweet and generous. All they want to do is see me happy. They're even offering to examine me themselves, all of them or any of them. I was crying for a little while and Eddie was trying to cheer me up by taking my blood pressure and then looking in my ears and my nose and at my throat. Bless his heart he's trying to help and make me feel better, even if only by doing little things like that. When he asked if I could scoot over so he could take my vitals, I hesitated but did it and he was like: "There we go, atta girl." In the sweetest tone ever and with the sweetest smile. You should've heard and seen him. Even warning me that his stethoscope was going to be a little cold before he put it on my arm. He's trying, I know he is and I appreciate it so much.
I'm just so depressed and tired right now because of all the crying I did, my gums are starting to hurt and I haven't taken my medication all day. None of it. I was hoping not doing it would kill me, but Christian says it's only going to lead to me having a stroke or doing more damage to my heart. But I just don't care. Eddie said something that nearly made me cry. He said: "I just met you. I don't want to lose you." :( God, a part of me wants to take my meds but an even bigger part of me would rather just let myself waste away and let my body suffer the fall out of my depression. I don't care if I go into SVT. I don't want to have a stroke but I'm just hoping it'll send me into a dangerous rhythm and kill me right away. I can't do this anymore. I can't keep hurting like this. I'm hoping that maybe I'll just die of broken heart syndrome. That's like having a heart attack and a heart attack is sure to kill you. I wish I never started watching 911 and I wish I never discovered Ryan Guzman. I would give anything to go back in time and remove him from my life. I mean, I know technically its not his fault. It's Ryan "fucking" Murphy's fault. He created the character of Eddie Diaz and now, I can't live without him. I keep crying and feeling like I can't breathe and Christian & Eddie are telling me to breathe because they know how much trauma my heart has taken tonight and they think its going to backfire and cause me problems with it. Both he and Eddie want me to take my meds and then brush my teeth and go to sleep. They promised that they will both stay with me all night until I fall asleep and to make sure I'm okay and they said, of course, they'll hold me.
So I'm going to go and do what they want. . .maybe. I just would rather die.
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