Monday, March 28, 2005


I'm feeling angry and depressed this morning. Another hard weekend behind me, but what's the difference. It's not like I'm going to feel great today - or tomorrow, or the next day. Here I am facing another six months of this sickness and I don't have the reserves of strength, either physical or mental, to deal with it. Everyone tells me how well I've done so far, how I've been so strong. But that's never the way I've felt. I've just been gritting my teeth and holding on. When I started back in October I was in pretty good physical condition - I'm definitely not now. I don't have another 35 pounds to sacrifice for the cause and there's not a single part of my body and soul that doesn't hurt. And I'm sick and tired of pretending otherwise. I'm weary of being a good trooper, a good sport. I'm sick of putting on a front for my family and friends. I can't pretend to be cheerful anymore. I'm still hanging on, but I am definitely at the end of my rope with a big knot tied there. Am I feeling sorry for myself? You damn well better believe it.


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