don't blush, bleed

When I was a kid, I used to get smacked in the face. A lot. I've been hit so often, that I'm still suffering from chronic nosebleeds.

Who smacked me?
Everyone. Bullies at school, pikies in the neighbourhood, shop owners, my sister, my dad... I've even been hit by the mum of one of my friends.

Why?
Because I got on their nerves. I still do. But nowadays, it's because they can't even look at me or my upperlip is drenched in fresh blood again. Basically, when other people blush, I bleed. I hate it when that happens. I hate them for judging me, and I hate myself for making it worse.

When I'm angry or excited, my bloodpressure rises, which will lead to the inevitable nosebleed. I can't have spicy food without bleeding all over my plate. And if you're up for some real horror, try and get me drunk.

This blog is to let you in on the misery of living with epistaxis. Enjoy!