It just never stops hurting.
I had a schedule, I was going to write yesterday, I was going to write today. I can’t. It hurts more than I am even remotely comfortable discussing. It’s not just a headache, it is an entire pain that floods my being. Am I waxing poetic? Yes, because that’s what I do. I’m not lying however
No, I’m not as upset about this as I would have been last year, let’s say. Just because I have a schedule does not mean I’m religiously obligated to follow it if my body and my mind cannot physically and mentally take care of the business at hand.
I went to bed last night at 6 PM. I didn’t have dinner, I didn’t take a shower, I collapsed in the clothes I was wearing and passed out for the better part of the evening. I don’t mean I fell asleep, I mean I passed out from the sheer amount of the pain I was in.
I have a horrible habit of not being able to say when. I have this problem when I eat, I have this problem when I drink, and, more importantly to this particular thing, I have this problem when I write. I love writing. It gives me this energy and this wonderful sense of purpose.
However, sometimes I make myself do it even when I either physically shouldn’t because of the pain I’m in, or mentally shouldn’t because of the psychological place that I’m in. I am in a place that encompasses both of those today.
I’m not even actually writing this, I am dictating this into my phone because the glare from my computer screen causes the back of my head to throb. Not to mention I have the littlest of my little ducks hanging around and he is trying so hard to help me and it makes me so sad that nothing is working.
When any of you read this, it will be because I either had a moment where I could just slip it in copy and paste and hit the buttons. Or maybe because I just had the Elder Duck do it when he got home. I’m not going to apologize because I’ve done nothing wrong, I’m not going to say I’m going to do anything tomorrow, because I don’t know if I’m going to be able to.
I’ll be back, trust and believe that
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