Once upon a time, these same bright stars did shine.
So it's bad enough that I never post here, but when I do, I have to whine, right?
I'm sick. I've been sick for more than a year and no one can figure out what the hell is wrong with me. The doctor thinks I "just need more sleep" and my mother in law thinks I'm "just depressed." Presumably both of these are because I'm so fucking tired all the time. (Am I supposed to lj-cut for swearing? I don't know.) I have terrible, bone-crushing fatigue. Not sleepiness -- it's not like if I lie down, I fall asleep. I'm "just" physically exhausted. On top of that, I have tingling in my hands and feet all the time, I've been diagnosed with GERD (isn't that an attractive acronym? It stands for GastroEsophageal Reflux Disease) and get to take fun medication and not eat any of the things I love, photosensitivity, lightheadedness... the list goes on and on, so I'll spare you some of the least pleasant details. Yes, I've been to specialists, yes, I've had tests, including really nice expensive ones like MRIs and spinal taps, and still no one knows what's wrong.
I have terrible anxiety -- only very rarely an actual anxiety attack, something I'm not sure if I sure be grateful or not for. As it is, I have a moderate level of anxiety eating away at me, so I'm tempted to say that the occasional attack might affect my life less.
And then there's the depression. I've been depressed on and off for years. Always, maybe. As long as I can remember. It comes and goes, is rarely to the point where I've felt like I needed any kind of medical intervention, and is currently kicking my ass. Don't get me wrong -- there are definitely days that are okay -- but the addition of being sick with no diagnosis and no immediate hopes for one, coupled (trebled?) with the implication that maybe it's all in my head is very slowly shredding me into little pieces.
There, isn't that lovely and melodramatic? *Sigh*
I'm sick. I've been sick for more than a year and no one can figure out what the hell is wrong with me. The doctor thinks I "just need more sleep" and my mother in law thinks I'm "just depressed." Presumably both of these are because I'm so fucking tired all the time. (Am I supposed to lj-cut for swearing? I don't know.) I have terrible, bone-crushing fatigue. Not sleepiness -- it's not like if I lie down, I fall asleep. I'm "just" physically exhausted. On top of that, I have tingling in my hands and feet all the time, I've been diagnosed with GERD (isn't that an attractive acronym? It stands for GastroEsophageal Reflux Disease) and get to take fun medication and not eat any of the things I love, photosensitivity, lightheadedness... the list goes on and on, so I'll spare you some of the least pleasant details. Yes, I've been to specialists, yes, I've had tests, including really nice expensive ones like MRIs and spinal taps, and still no one knows what's wrong.
I have terrible anxiety -- only very rarely an actual anxiety attack, something I'm not sure if I sure be grateful or not for. As it is, I have a moderate level of anxiety eating away at me, so I'm tempted to say that the occasional attack might affect my life less.
And then there's the depression. I've been depressed on and off for years. Always, maybe. As long as I can remember. It comes and goes, is rarely to the point where I've felt like I needed any kind of medical intervention, and is currently kicking my ass. Don't get me wrong -- there are definitely days that are okay -- but the addition of being sick with no diagnosis and no immediate hopes for one, coupled (trebled?) with the implication that maybe it's all in my head is very slowly shredding me into little pieces.
There, isn't that lovely and melodramatic? *Sigh*