Too much has happened in the last 8 months. Too much. I am at the point where everything is too much. I need a break, but even that would be too much. The stupid illness is wearing me down, more than before. Although I haven’t reached the really bad, almost writhing in pain pain, it’s been so heightened recently that it has left me destroyed. I find myself on the verge of tears, especially when I start to think is it going to end. Am I going to get a break from this soon? I am trapped by my own body. I am being held to ransom by it. It is just so ……I don’t know, I don’t know.
I FEEL SO ALONE.
Today we were up early, for the little jaunt to the markets, it was nice, but to be honest, although we had a successful day, by the time we got home at lunchtime, I had fallen into despair. A not real taxing drive, and a little wander around an old WW2 Aircraft hangar where the markets were held had done me in.
I know that Mum notices that I am not coping well. I am so wiped out, and my enthusiasm is waning. I just want to have a decent sleep, have no pain, and feel good, even if just for a couple of days. I feel lost, I feel lonely.
It’s not depression I feel. I am prone to it, I know it, it is an awful companion in my life at times. This is just sort of like a Groundhog Day. Same shit, different day. It’s almost a desperation for it to just change. Right now, if I were to win the lottery, it would still be the same. Sure, right now I sit here writing with tears streaming down my face and I feel sorry for myself. I am allowed to. It would be so nice if some lovely lady walked into my life, hugged me tight, and told me everything will be alright.
Anyhow, I can’t write anymore right now, I am going to retire to my cold bed, and not sleep properly again. I know.