Today I have a horrible headache, which means my mood is also down.  I think “down” would be a major understatement at this point.  It’s hard to tell exactly how I feel in words.  Even harder to quantify the pain 0-10 (with 10 feeling great) since I’ve never really experience a 10.  I love how those self-help books want you to quantify that crap.  Well, now, if I knew what 10 was, maybe, just maybe, I’d have a bit more hope, something more to look forward to.  But I don’t know, and therefore don’t really know what I’m missing at this point.  While people might have pity for me or feel sorry for me, I wish they wouldn’t.  Feeling sorry for me won’t make me feel any better.  It will only prove to make the person feeling sorry for me feel worse.  And since I’d prefer not to have that happen, pity’s not what I want. 

What do I want?  Hmmmm… that’s a good question.  I wish I had the answer to it too.  I’m not even sure I necessarily want to be happy anymore.  At this point, seems like it’s more trouble than it’s worth.  I’m not sure I’m convinced that anything is worth going through this much struggle to achieve.  I do my best, but my best is never good enough.  It feels like I’m a hamster on a wheel, running running from an enemy that is running faster than me.  I can’t step off.  And I don’t know how to slow it down.  And I’m exhausted.

I guess I want someone to hold me while I cry.  Who will hold me while I cry and not ask questions.  That will care about whether I live through the day, week, year, decade.  Someone who’s care goes beyond my ability to pay the bills.  Not necessarily someone who understand the pain.  I have little doubts whether most folks would be able to understand it.  Hell, I can’t understand the pain and I’m the one going through it. 

And it’s not just the emotional pain.  It’s the physical pain too.  While I don’t get the achy joints some folks have, I get the headaches the hurting eyes from constantly crying.  The fatigue.  Oh gosh, the fatigue.  I’ve been told by several psychiatrists I am bipolar.  I wish to God I was bipolar.  I long for a manic day.  I’d think I’d rather be on a roller coaster between high and lows then be lower than low all the time.  I have so much stuff I want to get done.  And no energy to do anything.  I fight the sleep at work, at home.  What am I supposed to do, call in to work sleepy?  While that may seem to fly with some folks here, I’m sure it wouldn’t fly with me. 

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