RLS as myth

Hmm... As someone who actually HAS RLS, which was diagnosed in a sleep lab, I beg to differ with that opinion. I totally understand the notion that this cannot be a real affliction, that the drug companies have just made it up. I used to feel that way.

Until my RLS started to invade my life.

For about 3 months, I did not get a good night's sleep. In fact, I would fall asleep about an hour before my alarm would go off. This would inevitably make me late for said position of employment. Which in turn made my bosses very unhappy with me.

At times it was so bad that all I could do was pace. My ex stopped sleeping in the bed with me, preferring to get a full night's sleep on the sofa.

I finally had a sleep study done and was told that I have severe RLS and Periodic Limb Movement Disorder (PLMD). I was prescribed Sinemet, a drug used in Parkinson's patients to control their tremors.

The one thing I have never been told is WHY I have this. Why the chemicals in my brain malfunction and cause my legs to need to move. I HAVE been told that this along with my father's Parkinson's means that I am much more likely to have Parkinson's when I get older.

Change

I've been thinking a lot recently about how negative and unhappy I am. Mostly because people have been pointing it out to me left and right. I truly need to do something about this. And my lack of direction in life. I think that they are related. I mostly assume that I am going to fail at anything I do. Thus I keep efforts to a minimum so as not to have to fail. While embarrassment is my most loathed activity, failure comes in a close second.

I am really quite good at it if I do say so myself. Someone asked me recently why I keep taking jobs that I hate and I had to try to explain that my life is about playing it safe and not taking any risks when it comes to things I care about because if I do and then fail it's worse than if I never knew whether the risk would pan out. The only place I ever learned to tale risks was with men. And even there I have mostly become too scared of getting hurt again that I rarely put myself out there anymore. I need to do something about the fear. Because what the hell do I have to be afraid of. Its not like you can find love while sitting on your ass. Or happiness for that matter.