Well, today is Thanksgiving, and I managed to be thankful (honestly Thankful) all day. I was pretty proud of myself.
Now all of a sudden, I feel sad again. I just want to cry. Over nothing, too. I'm just so very tired. I got no sleep. And I guess I'm feeling kind of self-piting, because in spite of all my happiness there is still bad.
I always mash the potatoes and the turnips. That's my job. And I love it. I get to take out all my angst from the family being too close together on helpless veggies.
But since I was so tired (so very, very tired) I didn't want to, I was afraid that all of my energy would, well, be taken out on helpless veggies. I thought that my precious energy could be put to better use.
That made me sad, but was quickly forgotten, as I was filled up by the warmth of the kitchen and the holiday.
Now, at 2:30 in the morning, with nothing in the air but the biting cold. I feel sad.
You know what pushed me over the edge? A letter.
I was trying to write a letter to my gocbrother and I couldn't think of anything to say and my dulled senses and tired brain didn't make my babble exactly charming.
I'm so tired of being sick. Or is it tired from being sick?
I'm so exhausted I don't know anymore.
The thing is; not to sound conceited, but I knew I was a good person. I mean, I was an allright writer, and I was funny, and I almost always had a story.
Now, for so many reasons that is taken away. And that makes me sad to see that all of my best qualities are gone.
What's left for me? When CFS invaded my body, what did it leave for me?
Memories, I suppose. Memories of how good I was and how good I can't be for a while.
People think I'm lying about CFS for alot of reasons. I want attention, I'm afraid of the world, or worried about dumb things.
And I AM afraid of the world, and I DO want attention and worry is my middle name.
When I was well if somebody offered me a life with no work, no fear, just smiles an co-dependency I would have taken it. No question.
Other people would have too. They get scared, they see the weakness in themselves and they transfer it to me.
But back to the point; I would have taken that life. But that is not what CFS is. CFS is fear every minute of every day, CFS is worry about things I never even thought about. CFS is isolating. And it's terrifing, and it's lonely and it's depressing.
It's tears and pain.
And that's all.
I might have taken an easy life. But no one could ever convince me that this hard life full of sorrow was a good one.
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