I don't know what to do. I just don't. I think it'd be best if I just totally leave off describing how I'm feeling. Don't want to talk about it. Please don't ask me how I'm feeling, because then I stop and take stock and notice how I'm feeling. NO I'm still not better, NO I don't know why, YES I've been back to the doctor for the umpteenth time, YES there are more tests in my future. YES, this definitely has a physical cause; this isn't something my mind has created out of thin air. NO, it's probably not something serious but is seriously holding me back and NO, I'm not handling this well. Today marks ten weeks since I first got sick. I am furious. See? Only writing that much makes me feel worse. I just need complete and total distraction at all times, because being mindful just makes me cry. So distraction it is. S gave me a Kindle for Christmas and this has been a godsend. I can't remember the last time I was reading a book a day. Makes me feel better about being couch-bound on the days I feel like if I were standing and moving my head would detach from my body and shatter into a million pieces.
Christmas came and left. It was lovely, on the whole, but I think I've forgotten any of the details in it already, because I didn't put any of it into words, and because I was hidden behind a veil of foggy headedness the whole time. New Year's Eve rolled around and I was not at all who I wanted to be or where I had wanted to be--not to mention I think I pushed myself too hard, and instead of going home and to bed at 9:30 when I was hit with a wave of dizziness and fatigue, I stayed on at the party downtown through S's band's third set and on through midnight. I can't really regret that, though, even though I think I dealt my body a setback that I'm still paying for. I can't really regret that, because S was incredible that night, and the music was rich, and when the new year rolled around I was bundled up out on the square with S's arms around me and his hat on my head and we watched hundreds of pearly white balloons being released into the night sky and then kissed under the fireworks when 2012 arrived. It was beautiful. Has to be worth it, hasn't it? I cannot keep attributing the quality of my last few days on one late pushing-self night. I just need to... I don't know. I don't know what to do.
I'm not sure this ever gets better. I really kind of just want to quit. And see, this is why I haven't written.
I feel like I should end on a less Eeyore note. So, Hunger Games. Have you read them? Thanks to the Kindle I'm halfway through the last book. Crazy, right? Mind blows?
Christmas came and left. It was lovely, on the whole, but I think I've forgotten any of the details in it already, because I didn't put any of it into words, and because I was hidden behind a veil of foggy headedness the whole time. New Year's Eve rolled around and I was not at all who I wanted to be or where I had wanted to be--not to mention I think I pushed myself too hard, and instead of going home and to bed at 9:30 when I was hit with a wave of dizziness and fatigue, I stayed on at the party downtown through S's band's third set and on through midnight. I can't really regret that, though, even though I think I dealt my body a setback that I'm still paying for. I can't really regret that, because S was incredible that night, and the music was rich, and when the new year rolled around I was bundled up out on the square with S's arms around me and his hat on my head and we watched hundreds of pearly white balloons being released into the night sky and then kissed under the fireworks when 2012 arrived. It was beautiful. Has to be worth it, hasn't it? I cannot keep attributing the quality of my last few days on one late pushing-self night. I just need to... I don't know. I don't know what to do.
I'm not sure this ever gets better. I really kind of just want to quit. And see, this is why I haven't written.
I feel like I should end on a less Eeyore note. So, Hunger Games. Have you read them? Thanks to the Kindle I'm halfway through the last book. Crazy, right? Mind blows?
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