Lost. Feeling lost.
Wanting so much yet never having what I need in my physical body to enable this life.
Wanting to write, to read, to edit more. Yet I awake and I want to sleep more. My tummy rumbles in a C flat. Why oh why can’t I shake all this? Why isn't my house cleaner, my course easier, my mums house just packing itself up all by itself without the need of help from me?
Accounts need doing today. If I don’t get those done, there will be a consequence.
Finding the perfect idealistic income opportunity, talking to mum about this seems tricky. She doesn’t understand.
Aiming to be off the anti depressant pills by September, I’m just not sure where I begin to stop those. it’s a frightening feeling.
Days go fast and less gets done.
Reading a book of journal entries, I know I simply want to get journal entries out of my head and onto paper. Does this sound like a book idea?
Writing, my saviour.
If only this would generate the income for help within the home. Even making phone calls I need to make feels like an effort. Everything feels like an effort. Is it? Or am I lazy? I didn't used to be. I used to work 90 odd hours a week. Yet I ate at work, did little to no housework (we were never there) and somehow life seemed to simply just work for me.
Where is my energy?
Not in the bottom of a coffee cup I know. I tried this one. Doesn’t work.
My blood sugars are going silly. I hate that. I need to get into Ketosis again. Yet fathers day looms and there must be a meal for sure. Will this meal have potatoes?
Gosh, none of this scramble head coming out on paper makes me look remotely normal. I know this for sure.
I feel unwell. I think I am unwell. Even though I have tried the law of attraction for health.
Crohns. Being fed rice from 3 days old. All my body struggles. My poor body.
They are trying me on peppermint oil supplements. After the gynae dr asked “What parts would you like me to remove for you?” And I looked stunned.
I knew where the future was heading. Now I’m not so sure.
For now, I will sleep some more I feel.
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