NOTE: The font is wonky. Blogger having odd formatting issues today.
Into my third cup of coffee while waiting for the prednisone withdrawal migraine to subside, I'm considering what my life will be like once I obtain "normal," whatever the hell that is. Normal has been so absent in my life that I'm not even sure I'd recognize it if it slapped me in the face. Honestly, who ares about 'normal' if you feel good? Yeah--that's really kind of where I'm going with this.
At night, or during the day when I don't feel well, I lay down to appease the demands of my body and listen to music in hopes of remembering what it was like to feel well, to feel good, to have energy and vitality--to have ANY energy and vitality. There I am, in pain, discarding hopelessness when possible. Depression often wins, and it sure as hell tried to win yesterday and last night. When did I become so susceptible to the whims of drug-induced thinking? Since Prednisone, that's when. I know this, and yet it's nearly impossible to distinguish the difference between what I really feel or am experiencing, emotion-wise, and the effects of my body scrambling to handle things without cortisol. People, I promise you, cortisol is absolutely necessary.
What I need at this time is for T to get his shit together and stop looking at what I'm going through as... well, as nothing. Fat chance of that happening, which means I'm left to my own devices, and I don't have much in the way of devices these days. My thoughts on this are pretty basic. When someone is sick, especially THIS sick, it calls for change... even if temporary. He doesn't change with the circumstances, and it's creating some serious havoc with my emotions and health. How the flip do I deal with that? Ugh. Okay, so I'm really way off track here...
If normal had a job I'd have to say it didn't show up to work today. Or yesterday.
OMG, seriously... this is too much.
