Because weekends are different. And every day is different. Most days involve me waking up, and then getting scared, worried, or disturbed trying to function with odd pains that I start calling doctors. The issues and associated struggles make it difficult to interact with the rest of life. It is what I do for weeks and months.
It is hard to know what the priority is.
Lots of blood work is coming back okay. And I need to see a neurologist…but I already did, and she just wanted me to take anti depressants and fixated on migraines. And that is when I was doing much better. So I am trying to remain hopeful. But it sounds kind of insane. Or irrational.
I do care about my commitments, yet I need to get them off my plate.
I just want to take Liv out. We did have a lovely walk yesterday.
And now my latest desperate theories of what could be causing this pain, going to a doctor who can probably not really help, except keep asking if I have gone to psychiatric yet.
So if you wonder what is going on, so do I. I will share a more coherent version when I am able. And in the meantime, heard someone say if we are lucky to live long enough, we will all become disabled in our life.
This probably won’t be as bad as it gets. But it is as bad as it has been for me in my life since I can remember.
So do the thing. Take the walk. Make the call. Write the letter. If you can’t you can’t. But if you want to do something and believe it is yours to do, if we aren’t dead, we can try. And it can always get worse. That is my positive thought.
Telling people I am fine when I am not or that I am not better when they don’t understand isn’t fair to anyone. So I am just doing the best I can.
And I am trying to not treat the people bad in the process…by remembering that they…because illness…
🙏😘