Patience

I'm trying, really, really hard to have some. But the anger beneath keeps threatening to lash out, rearing its ugly head.

All I want is to be able to live. A somewhat normal life.
I'd like to be able to go to the gym without wondering if it'll make me sick, so I could fit into more than one pair of pants, all the rest having become too tight since my only feasible hobby is food.

I'd like to be able to clean my room without becoming hot, breaking out in a cold sweat, and feeling the room spin.

And lastly, and I know this is far too much to ask, I'd like to be able to go on a date two weekends in a row.

What is the point in being alive if all I can do is lie here, waiting for things to change, and trying not to get my hopes up?

Ugh, my stomach is in revolt! (For the 4th day in a row, 3rd time in two weeks.) I could deal with that though, if it weren't for how sick I feel when I try and start doing stuff: ill and spinny and queasy and sweaty and weak.

My feet and hands keep getting icy cold too, and my heartrate goes tachy at random.

Well, I guess I'm off...no point in continuing to whine, right? I'll put on a (Hopefully) good movie, put the heating pad on my feet, try and keep my hands not elevated and warm...and be.

I want to see a Reiki practitioner. I may not be overwhelmed with anger now, but it's still there, beneath the surface, and I'm so weary... An influx of healing energy sounds just wonderful. Maybe it'll unstick me so I can make more of the times I am somewhat ok...