I'm stressed 'cause I'm depressed... or is it that I'm depressed because I'm stressed? Or maybe I'm both stressed and depressed for a different reason entirely? Well, I suppose it doesn't really matter... the reality of the two things is enough.

The day started off well enough. I got my hair cut, finishing out the transformation. That made me giddy, especially because I quite like how it turned out.

The purple is for fibromyalgia/lupus/abuse awareness, and the red is because it looked more awesome than teal on the swatches. Teal would have been pretty sweet, though. Next time.

While chopping bell peppers for my salad at lunchtime, I suddenly flashed back to a memory of D involving bell peppers, and I just lost it. I cried for a good 5 minutes, overcome with grief. Then I was okay, but still sad.

I worked today, very hard. I like work. It makes me feel like a useful, contributing member of society... like I can actually still do something, you know? And my boss values my work very much. She considers me invaluable, actually. I know I will never be replaced unless I should actually choose to leave. But now I am tired... more tired than is reasonable for the amount and type of work that I did, and that's... frustrating.

I stopped by the bank on the way home and started the process of trying to get a personal loan, which is terrifying because I will have to pay it back and I don't have that kind of money... but I have to get this car thing taken care of. There is no postponement option. I hate being in debt. Hate, hate, hate it! And I feel like I'm in so much debt... That stupid credit card that has saved my butt so many times... I'm trying desperately to pay it off, throwing everything I have at it, but it still doesn't go away. It pisses me off that I'm in this situation, honestly.

And then I called R to see if he was comfortable co-signing the loan (he's not, which is fine), and we ended up in a conversation about the stress and troubles of life back home. Without going into details... it's troubling to me. I know that's their thing, and there's nothing I can or should do, but I still just want to see everyone happy and healthy, and right now that's not the case.

So it's the end of the day, and I have work I could be working on, but I'm all worked out. I'm tired, and I hurt, and my painkillers are barely taking the edge off, and I'm nauseous, and my guts are cramping, and it's been this way all day... and the day before... and the days before that... and I'm just getting really sick and tired of being sick and tired all the damn time. It gets so old, so fast.

I want to move as many of the smaller things to the new house as I can tomorrow, and put the boxes and stuff already there in their appropriate rooms (most of which I've already done, but the last few loads were just dumped in the living room), but... I can't do it by myself. I know that I will just make myself very, very sick, and I can't afford to do that. I asked a friend to help me, but she can't tomorrow, so I don't know what to do. It's frustrating to have a job that needs to be done that I could have done in the past, but now I'm helpless. It pisses me off, frankly. And it depresses me. I just want to sit down in the middle of the floor and cry. Tears of frustration, anger, and sadness. Like a little kid who needs a nap. I need the world's longest nap, and I need to wake up from the nap all better.

I seriously considered telling R today that I'm not going to doctors anymore, that I'm getting off of my medicines and whatever happens, happens. I am so tired of being a financial burden to him, like an anchor around his neck. I never wanted this... I may still make that decision. Like, after this run of acupuncture is done, I don't want to ask R to do it again. It's thousands of dollars for the long-term treatment plan, and I can't do it. I can't bring myself to do it. I just can't do this anymore...

No more doctors. No more medicines. Just me, curled up in bed, hoping to make it through another day with my sanity intact.

My life is fucked.

I'm sorry. I told you I was feeling stressed and depressed. I have no "it'll all be okay" optimism left in me right now, and I can't fake any of those inspirational life lessons. I got nothin'.

What did I do to ever deserve this? I must have been a kitten killer in another life. They say karma's a bitch, but I really wish she'd tell me what I did wrong before she slaps me. I probably killed kittens with other kittens, and then killed those kittens with rainbows that I turned into drugs to sell to children.

I just really don't want to do this anymore. I could use some of those kitten-killing rainbow drugs, honestly...

Alright. I'm done bitching. 'Cause believe me... I could go on and on and on...

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