There are some days when it's hard to be totally cheerful. I mean, there are some days where I'm just a little melancholy. It could be any number of things; perhaps I'm not feeling particularly well one day, or maybe I heard/read/saw something that triggered a sense of loss, or maybe it's that the moon is in the house of Mercury in retrograde or whatever. The fact remains that sometimes that melancholy is just… there. Today is kinda one of those days.

I've not been feeling really well since I had those three days of hell without my pain meds. Did I mention how god-awful sick I was? I really don't think you can comprehend it unless you've experienced it. I couldn't, and I feel uber sick all the time. It was that bad. Like, I never want to experience that again upon pain of death bad. The only thing that kept me going was having a "deadline" to look forward to as to when I could refill my meds. If I had to do that indefinitely… nope. Just nope. I'm not even going there in my thoughts.

Anyway, December was a hard month for me. There was the travel, cold, and stress that came with visiting my family. That was already difficult for me, and then there were two trips to the big city for doctor stuff which was also hard on me. Then at the end of the month came my three days of hell, preceded by a sinus infection which I still haven't managed to fully kill. (Here's hoping the antibiotics work!) It was just rough, physically, and I'm not recuperated yet. I'm exhausted and most of the time I don't know "why". Is there a reason, or is this just my new level of normal? It's hard to tell.

Okay, so I'm feeling crappy and tired and I've got this sinus headache that won't go away and I'm nauseous all the time and my stomach hurts badly whenever I eat something ever since the three days and I'm not really digesting things right right now, and I'm more achy and tender than usual, and… I just generally feel run down. Imagine that you've had a really bad case of influenza and a stomach virus for the past year and a half straight, with periods of getting other sicknesses on top of that. Congrats. You're in my life.

Sorry. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a downer. I just see everyone around me with their resolutions for the new year, and they're exercising and eating food and getting healthy, and I'm… getting worse. Still. Guys, it kinda makes me want to cry.

I know my life is amazing. I know it. My husband is the most awesome of awesome things to ever be awesome, truly. I have fantastic friends. I have good health care. I have a family that loves and supports me, even if they don't all understand what I'm going through. Our bills are paid. We have the disposable income to be able to go to the movies once in a while, which we did yesterday. We have the money to support pets, and I love my kitties. Life is good, y'all. It's just hard to enjoy it sometimes when you feel so crappy and you're so uncertain about yourself and the future. I know my future with my husband is steady. (Did I mention that we're almost to our first wedding anniversary? I'm so stoked.) But my future with myself is still so up in the air and I hate that. I want to know, dammit! What is wrong with my body? What is the malfunction, and what can we do to correct it? I just want to know!

Did I mention that I had to step back from the HJ? I asked for a year's leave of absence to get better. I believe it. I feel it. This is my year. It's gotta be. I can't afford to get any sicker. What will I have left? I will still be running the teen girl's support group. That much I can and want to do. But the HJ, helping people, that's my heart and soul, man. To have to give that up is killing me. The HJ is exploding. We're getting big, we're getting funded, we're getting really professional and helping a ton of people. Positions are opening up that I am perfect for, and I want to jump in there and do it so much… but I have to sit on the sidelines and watch E scramble to find people that are half as reliable and trustworthy as I am. I have to watch her get let down time and time again because people are flakes, and I can't step in to pick up the slack. I am so helpless. I hate it. I absolutely hate it. It eats at me.

It's like I finally found my passion and my purpose in life, and now I'm forbidden to live it out. It's like being a dancer and succumbing to a slow paralysis. I just… I grieve for my losses, as surely as I grieve the loss of a loved one. Who died, you ask? The Cassandra that was, the Cassandra that could be and could have been… she's slowly but surely faded away into nothing but a faded memory, the echo of half-remembered song lyrics and the wisp of a scent long passed.

I watched What To Expect When You're Expecting again today. It's a cute movie, and I like it. However, it brings things up for me, as so many things do these days. I took a pregnancy test at the doctor's the other day so I could get a renewed prescription for birth control, and the nurse that took my urine sample asked me if I had kids and if I wanted kids in the future. I just smiled and said yes, but my heart started crying because not only did I have babies and I lost them, I don't know if I'll ever be able to create a family in that way and it kills me. I want to be a mom. Oh, I want to be a mom. (This coming from the girl who swore she'd never marry and have a family! But that was just protection to keep myself from getting hurt again.) First of all, I am unsure if I can even carry a child to term even if I were healthy. Secondly, there is no way that I could see a pregnancy through to the end at this point, or even care for the child afterward. As bad as I am right now while on meds, I would have to stop taking all of my medicines while pregnant for fear of damaging the fetus. That's not a viable option at this point. C and I have actually discussed this situation and what we would do if the birth control fails and I find myself pregnant. Both of us agree that we really would have no option but to terminate the pregnancy. Even thinking about that just destroys me, because I want to be a mom… Voluntarily giving up the life growing within me seems so counterintuitive. But it is what I would have to do. I hope and pray that I do not get pregnant until we resolve my health issues. I seriously, seriously do. Fortunately or unfortunately as the case may be, the women of my family are super fertile. (Did you know that I am the result of a drunken one night stand in a meadow? Parties, liquor, and ex-boyfriends just don't make a good mixture apparently. But hey, I'm not complaining. I'm rather glad to be here, actually!)

So, here I am. A happy little mix of weird feelings and positivity and optimism and fatalism and bleak uncertainty and maybe a few bad jokes just for good measure.

Oh, guess what? The last doc to prescribe my pain meds changed the frequency, so now I can take one every four hours instead of making myself wait six hours. It's actually quite an improvement, and although the meds aren't as effective as I'd like them to be (I'm never not in some level of pain, but it's the difference between bearable and unbearable.), it's making a big difference in the level and duration of the spikes of really intense pain. I'm quite happy about that! I still don't like that I'm so reliant upon opiate pain killers for even basic functioning, but I'll shoot a rubber band in the eye of anyone who suggests that I can go without them. The three days proved the folly of that hypothesis quite clearly. I can't wait until I no longer have to slowly destroy my organs to maintain my sanity. This is my year, guys. It's coming. I'm gonna get better. Just you wait and see! Until then… naps. Lots and lots of naps.

(Oh, quick funny story! At M's bday party last night a girl that I'd just met or maybe had met in the past said to me in passing, "You're looking really healthy these days!" I smiled and thanked her politely, of course, but inside I was both incredulous and laughing bitterly and hysterically. It's funny how well I do look, though, to be honest. I mean, I've gained weight but I'm still quite attractive, and there's really no outward indication of my health struggles except for the walker that I use when I'm out and about. I am both grateful and resentful of that. Hard to explain. But I've learned to simply accept the compliments with good graces. No one likes to have their compliments rebutted, no matter the reason.)

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