Yes! I’m assuming it was the detergent. The hidden part of this post uses the word “suppositories,” and is precisely as unpleasant as that word’s presence would imply.
I also had hemorrhoids really bad. On top of that other stuff! Or between that other stuff – that’s more accurate.
Being in a situation in which one can’t sit down normally and is obligated to put medicine on one’s privates several times a day is very bleak. I felt like I’d entered some grim underworld; I read Carol Berg some. Now that I’ve escaped, I look upon the creams and napkins sitting around the bathroom with a shudder, as if they are composed of strange dense elements born of that world and never meant to exist in this one, the fabric of ordinary reality cringing away from them in revulsion.
I hid the suppositories in a drawer so I can’t see them anymore.
This post feels oddly as if it was translated from Japanese. Unrelatedly, I’ve been doing kanji flashcards way too much the last couple days. I draw the kanji in the air with my finger, so occasionally I’ve been find my finger moving jerkily of its own accord – attempting to form the kanji that will unseal the forces of darkness for the final battle.
I’m sorry, I think I’m still depressed about the suppositories.