It's midnight and I'm awake again. After what I've felt like today I sure don't want to be, but it appears that I have no say in it at this point. I finished the one load of laundry that I started yesterday, and I DID make myself shower and wash my hair. I didn't do much else though. But atleast I'm clean ~ that makes me feel better somewhat.

We got some pretty heavy thunderstorms this afternoon, which the ducks loved. They were all out there splashing around like kids in puddles, diving under and popping up and playing chasing games with their siblings. I think they were my only reason for smiling today except for Zachary.

I'm not sure how to explain how I feel, but I'm sure most of you know it well. At this point I feel a little sad and down on myself, but the worst part of it is this feeling of having an empty void inside of me that nothing can fill or satiate. I feel listless, despondent ~ wondering "what's the point" of it all. I don't have any desires of any sort other than to be left alone and to sleep. Those are my 2 comforts right now.

It's sad how I've had this disease for such a long time yet I still choose to believe that there will be the perfect drug out there to alleviate all of the symptoms and make me feel "normal", whatever that may actually be. But I have wake up calls sometimes where I realize that this is for life, that there are no miracle drugs, that I have to learn to maintain my wellness and my ability to keep from capsizing the boat from either side. It's so hard to keep the boat steady, especially when a storm throws it about. How do you not panic on a hostile sea that threatens to drown you with every passing moment? You just have to withstand it, even though you don't want to.

I find myself wondering ifGod made this my cross tobear for my lifelong journey. Is there some special purpose to having this illness? It feels like such a curse, but yet it feeds thecreativityin me and makes me a better musician and writer. I guessit doesn't matter one way or the other. It iswhat it is.

I tried to talk to myMom about howI've been feeling as of late and she just got aggravatedwith me for it. "Well there's nothing Ican do for you, Keya", was her response. I told her that I didn't expect anything of her, there was nothing she could 'do' anyhow, I just wanted someone to talkto. "Well even normalpeople have bad days", she said. That's fine but most normal people have a bad day and then they come home and have a beer or two to relax and watch tv until they go to bed. When I have a bad day it means I've been crying a lot, I'm isolating from friends and family, all I want to do is sleep, and everything seems completely pointlessto me. And then the nextday's the same, and the next…

She says she wants to know when I'm doing poorly, butall she does in return isjust invalidate my feelings and my needs at the moment. It's not the kind of help I need to helpme win this battle. Don't sit there and tell me what I SHOULD be like, what normal is. That doesn't do a damnthing but aggravate me andmake mefeel worse about myself and convinces me that I SHOULD keep it to myselfregardless. I'm lucky in that I have a husband who does care and is willing to help me through the difficulttimes. To him I'm a person, not an illness. To my MomI feel like all she sees in me is the illness and what it took away from me, and the hopes and dreamsshe had for me are gone because of it. She thinks I'm weak, and she despises weakness. She's got herself convinced that I brought this upon myself somehow, like I'd wantto. If she only really knew…

I'm finally gettingtired again, so I think I'llsign off and go to sleep.Thanks for listening. Hope you have a beautiful Saturday.

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