Shoot me, shoot me, shoot me, shoot me, shoot me! Let's just get it over with already. I am so damn tired. I'm physically tired, mentally tired. My chest hurts right where my heart is again. It started doing this a couple months ago. I had it a little once before and dismissed it. It went away. I didn't worry. Now it's back for about the third time. Every time I start to be able to do rigorous exercise, that starts up again, so now I'm worrying. I'm worrying about my heart. I'm 31 years old. This isn't supposed to happen. Except it does happen, and it especially happens to people that eat their weight in junk.

I have never had my cholesterol tested. I haven't had a physical since pregnancy, and that wasn't even a regular physical but a prenatal one. I think the last real physical I may have had was over half my life ago. I'm overdue on a tetanus shot. I have a bad knee. I get vertigo. I catch every possible virus that passes through. I am a fleshy wreck with more flesh than I need to have.

I don't want to face a doctor. I hate doctors. I hate dentists too, which explains my avoidance of them as well. The person can be perfectly nice, but I don't want anything to do with him. He's going to tell me everything wrong with me, and I'm obviously not ready to change my bad habits. He's going to tell me I'm overweight, and my blood is barely classified as liquid, and my knee needs replaced, and I need a quadruple bypass, and I'm ready to stroke out, and I am going to die of cancer.

I am a total hypochondriac, but I don't go to the doctor all the time. I avoid the doctor at all costs. I have to be running a fever, unable to swallow my own saliva, breathing like a horror movie killer and bedridden before I have to be forced to make an appointment. When I got an infected blister, I had to get bright red streaks up my arm before I would even call the doctor and a lump at my elbow and under my armpit before I would go see the doctor. By the time I went, he wanted to hospitalize me, but I still begged off and took $150 in heavy-duty antibiotics to get better.

You would think I was traumatized as a child or something. I wasn't. I was sick a lot and went to the doctor's office many, many times though. Even that really didn't turn me off of doctors. I worked with doctors as a receptionist and a secretary. I kind of liked doctors then.

I did have a doctor I did not like. Every time I left there, I felt like I shouldn't have gone. I felt guilty for going, like there was nothing wrong with me. She spent little time in the room, lesser time talking to me and didn't listen at all. Everything wrong with me was psychosomatic. That's why I had dizziness. That's why I had abdominal pain. That's why I gained weight (the only one I could buy). When I went in with a cold, it was minor allergies. When I went in with abdominal pain, she couldn't feel anything. When I went in with a headache, I was stressed. Her answer to my creaky knee? Stop exercising (well, that's not going to make me gain weight!). I had to have a fever to be legitimately sick for her.

I know stress manifests itself in different ways, and I have no doubt I have some stress-related problems. Some of my complaints were legitimate though, but I had to press the issue to find out. It wasn't until that doctor got a partner that I was diagnosed with ovarian cysts. Gee, those wouldn't cause abdominal pain, would they? But the damage was done. I have a complex about doctors.

I really just need my mommy. Mom needs to call the doctor for me and make an appointment and drive me there. J doesn't take care of me like that. He thinks I should be an adult or something. Mom still takes care of me as best she can from 1800 miles away. She keeps hounding me to see the eye doctor. I have black spots in my vision now too, but I'm sure it's just stress.