The sun is shining right onto my hands as I type, and they look 700 years old. When did my HANDS get old? Yeesch.
Anyway, I’m not doing well. I know I have an ovarian cyst, and that those are common and usually benign, but of course I’ve gotten myself into the “What if it isn’t?” lather and this is driving me crazy. There has not been one night I’ve slept the entire night through since October.
I am at a low point.
What do all of you do when you’re at a low point? Like, what do you say to yourself to get out of it?
Also, I had a very unpleasant exchange with someone who it turns out doesn’t like or respect me very much and I always thought she did and, oh, that stings. Plus also, two people I don’t know all that well unfriended me on Facebook and I know it shouldn’t matter because they’re, like, the wife of someone I barely know and the big sister of someone I was friends with when I was 13. Why do I care? And yet I do.
I am at a low point. Did I mention?
Plus I can’t even think about Australia. I can’t. I can’t look at pictures or read anything about it. I get too upset.
So, really. Tell me. How do you pull yourself out of these low points? I keep telling myself, and have since October, that after the next doctor’s appointment, I will feel better. I just have to make it to December 10, or December 16, or January 2. But each appointment I go to just involves making another appointment. For all I know, when I go get my Cystine Chapel [(c) Faithful Reader Fay. All rights reserved.] looked at next week they’ll set me up for yet ANOTHER appointment. At this point, I feel like I will live in this fever pitch of terror forever.
My blood pressure is high–a thing it’s never been. I have Bilbo Baggins under my eyes. I can’t sleep. Oooo, maybe I’ve lost weight. Hang on…
Four measly pounds. Really? Geez.
I gotta go. I have to get in the shower and go to work and try not to be Eeyore all day. Actually, I’m more that high-strung rabbit right now, whose name I think is Rabbit, and why did everyone else get a good name and he had to be Rabbit? Well. Piglet. He also lost out in the name department.
Talk to you later.
Person (I guess that’d be my name in wherever the hell the Winnie the Pooh people lived.) (Not that they were people.) (Oh my god I have to go.)