I don’t like delusionary nutters. I don’t like feeling this wretched. I don’t like my muddleheadedness and my fear. I don’t like medical procedures and I don’t travel well and I am vomit level over living trapped in here.
I am so afraid and weary and messed up this week. Hurt to the core. Desperately lonely for Izzy and just a trashed ruin. I feel as though I simply cannot strike it lucky anymore.
I AM SCARED to go to hospital again. Scared of my swollen leg. Afraid of my travel plans. I am deeply depressed living here. I barely see the Kids and hardly ever get to meetings and most days I lie in bed due to inability to breathe and total lack of energy. This is one of the worst times of my life. There are no mysterious angels and no mysterious help and me – well I am out of ideas and out of the physical stamina to do anything at all.
I find the loss after loss almost unendurable.
THEN , IN THE END, THERE ARE DUCKS.