Lately I think a lot that I am not long for this world. That’s probably because I feel like shit most of the time. I have migraines more days than not, I have no muscle tone and feel horrible whenever I try to do something to fix that problem. I can’t even be on my feet for more than a few minutes without thinking I’m going to pass out or be sick. I can’t even get food down half the time when I manage to wobble my way to the kitchen to nuke something. I mean geez, am I somehow too far gone to recover? Here’s where the depression comes in though….who really cares? Oh I know my kids care. I know people love me, but my life or lack thereof is a joke and I don’t care. I’m sick of it all, I’ve spent a year feeling like crap and I don’t see an end. I have no life and no friends here (okay, there is William) and that is my own fault but it’s more than I’m up to trying to fix when I feel lousy. I need a rehab center of my own. And a physical therapist apparently. Instead I sit here musing about donating my body to science vs the body farm, since I can’t afford to die either 😛

My therapist says William is good for me because he makes a pest of himself and forces me to be social. Ever since kindergarten when I used to say I was sick to skip school, I’ve had this problem. Social stuff feels overwhelming to me. I learned early on I was no good at it. So yesterday because I refuse to do anything requiring interacting with people, he told me to list 10 things I would enjoy (I think he means things that require interaction with other humans). Ten?! Right this moment I can’t even think of one….blame the bloody migraine.