Sitzing and Sipping

Today I (Still) Hate: My broken piece of shit body.
Today I love: Bunny, who I can hug on the toilet when I'm scared to shit.

  At 5:30 this morning I found myself up to my belly in a tub of warm water holding my exceptionally large skull & crossbones cup of black tea and balancing a book on my knees at the same time.
Shortly before this I was sitting on the toilet for the second or third time Waiting to Shit, a basic bodily function that has become a disgustingly cruel and frightening game. My arms were crossed over my stuffed rabbit, holding him close to my chest while I took deep breaths and tried to visualize pooping "smoothly and naturally" as I had been instructed. For once in my life I have found a situation in which visualization (sometimes) has an actual effect on whatever is going on. Unfortunately, as I discovered yesterday, when the poop hits the pain spot and the pain starts to scream no amount of picturing a shit sliding out of my ass painlessly is actually going to make the shit slide out of my ass painlessly. Hence, the stuffed animal.
  About that time I realized I had left my morning cup of tea in my room where it was now either a pleasantly drinkable temperature or unappealingly lukewarm. I decided to cut all attempts at shitting short (I did manage some but still with bleeding) and raced to my room to fetch the tea while I waited for the warm water coming out of the bath tap to realize it is supposed to be warm water (which can take anywhere from one to infinite minutes). I returned with said cup of tea and placed it on the floor near where I would be sitting repeating to myself that I had better not knock that over, I had better not knock that over. I didn't--and was quite proud of myself--and this was about when I plunked my butt in the tub of too hot water (I can never get a consistent or appropriate temperature due to my stupidly cold limbs) and finally got to enjoy my morning cup of tea with a sinking heart while Bunny looked on with that happy look he always wears on his face on when I feel like killing myself.
  As I sipped my tea and read my crappy book (any book so long as it is not my story) I tried very hard not to think about the rest of the day as my mornings have become the best part of them.