My diet literally consists of water and various pills right now. And I don't even know if I'm absorbing the pills. I don't wanna sound like a druggy or anything, because I'm not, but I really wish they'd give me IV meds I can stick in my port. I need a pain management doctor. My back has been aching like crazy and these stomach pains are getting out of hand. I don't know what else I can do about it.
It seems like I have no options. Nothing would work for me, and if we tried anything it'd be too risky. So I'm just waiting to die. How morbid is that? Like seriously, I would have never in my life imagined that I'd be saying or thinking such things, but here I am. I bet anyone reading this right now, if you know me personally, I bet you've suddenly got the urge to stop reading. That's okay, I can't force anyone to read my crap.
Now I'm just babbling; it's the fatigue talking.
Let's talk about today. I had another mini breakdown, I guess you could call it that. John was taking a shower, and I was wanting to get in the bathtub, and he said he'd be quick. He was, took maybe 15 minutes. Then he came out and told me I better get in the tub before the water he ran for me got cold. I didn't even think about how sweet he was for running me a bath, bubbles and all. No. I immediately got pissy because I wanted to run it myself. Now that I think about it, how fucking petty was that of me? He didn't have to run my bath for me. But he did, because he knew I wanted a bath. So I pretty much stormed in the bathroom, stripped down and put my foot in. The water was scalding hot. I don't blame John for this, because I do like my baths hot, just not boil-a-lobster-hot. This made me even more upset because the water hurt, and that only meant I had to wait longer for my bath. So I started crying and ended up bawling like a nit on the bathroom floor, naked and cold.
Of course that only led to more crying, and since I was naked, seeing myself all skin and bones didn't help much.
I have these breakdowns a lot nowadays. This one probably had a lot to do with my hormones and that time of the month or whatever. But that doesn't change the reasons I broke down. I've become a lot more angry, I guess. I dread waking up in the mornings. I don't want to leave the house, and when I do, the places I want to go can't be reached. I don't have the energy to do anything anymore. I try to read and draw and make things as much as I can, but one little thing can set me off. I want to spend time with John but almost instantly I get annoyed and just want to be alone. But deep down I know that being alone is the absolute last thing I want.
I feel like I'm not making any sense anymore.
No comments:
Post a Comment