How does it feel to have an airborne allergy? It is a mind effing experience when you are a mad airborne allergic woman. Since you need to be okay with yourself and people hurting you, and how much you can accomplish is determined by people’s willingness to accommodate your allergy. Like why am I only looking for a master’s program that is online since I cannot go to a class? I know it wouldn’t be beneficial to my money if I am having flare-ups when I am taking a test with no diagnoses for the third-hand smoke to be part of the disability that would do stuff to accommodate me. Even though not being diagnosed doesn’t mean you don’t have [insert illness here]. Nickel is found in most and even all (depending on if they are legal enough to take to a lab) smoking products, but most doctors I’ve seen need to be educated about this and it is considered an airborne allergy is rare cases. So it’s going to be a long journey trying to find one who can help me. So let’s begin by reading my diary of a mad airborne allergic woman.
I don’t belong to me; I belong to you and everyone I encounter. You are my organs, my health, and my well-being. You are my savior or my devil. You control my social interactions, physical outcome, financial stability, and housing. Yeah, you. I am not my own. I am everyone else’s. And when people realize that. They hold so deeply to their fixations. It be a spray of perfume, a puff of smoke, or even a nutty snack they cannot give up. You will send me through hell and ask me why I am trying so hard to survive when your survival mechanisms are materialistic weapons to my immune system. I will never be my own; I will only move as far as you want me to, be as rich as you care for me to be, and be as healthy as you feel is more important than that spray of perfume, a puff of smoke, or your nutty snack. See the very thing your finding hard to give up. It is hypocritical to demand me to give up my will to survive. So you are my survival, and neither you or I can change that. The fate is set, the reality is met, and it’s up to you to find me suitable to work, socialize, eat, drink, shower, or even live. I am not my own.
You may like the first Diary of a Mad Allergic Woman
Until next time, stay safe!