I call this whiney bitch time.
Sometimes, during my illness, there are days where I feel so tired and headachey, I can't do much of anything. Can't read, can't really watch tv(no seriously, and that is disappointing), can't do much talking on the phone...
I guess it's on these days that this illness feels interminable, like I'm being suffocated by my own body, by time, by space, by every thing. It's not depressing so much as it is infuriating. I have no control over this thing, I can't even feel well enough to occupy myself. I don't even have my dog anymore to keep me company. Sorry for the pity party, but this whole situation is difficult for me, I really am trying my best.
I'm not usually an angry person. But days where my illness effects me this much, the anger just overwhelms my mind like a wave. A friend of mine said I should get a punching bag. I totally would, but what makes me even angrier is that the physical exertion of getting my anger out on a punching bag would make me feel even sicker. Comical, but sad.
Plus, the isolation, when I'm the only person in this house, I mean, I might as well be on Mars.
In the end, there's always worse, and you know, this illness will surely let up at some point. Oh boy, I'm really building character with this whole thing, aren't I!