I'm feeling a wee bit homicidal.
That bitch of a back has turned into a full blown muscle spasm. There will be no moving from this spot until the pain killers kick in.
You know that saying, "If you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all," and how we usually ignore it?
I'm going to ignore it today.
Fuck you bitch of a back.
Fuck you for not letting me sleep last night.
Fuck you for making me feel depressed because I can't exercise and get stronger.
Fuck you for this one step forward 3 steps backward day.
Fuck you for deciding to crap out when I'm finally able to eat full meals, so I can lie here like a sloth and put all the weight back on that I lost.
I guess I need to let that one go.
I'm eating again after a month and a half of that mother fucking amitriptyline withdrawal and that's a good thing.
Can you see all my fucking joy today?
There is no fucking joy today.
There wasn't a lot last night either, when I couldn't get off the floor from pain and had to be helped to the bed to lie in agony.
I'll have to work extra fucking hard to write to My Gratitude Buddy tonight.
I guess I could start with: I am grateful I'm not working, and therefore am not technically losing any income for this day that will be spent in the La-Z-Boy wincing and whining.
I am grateful Papi got me a chocolate bar so that I can wallow in my pity pot and eat comfort food.
I am grateful I don't own a gun at this particular moment in time.
Ok fine.
I still have gratitude.
But that doesn't mean you want to get in my line of fire today.
I'm still feeling homicidal.
And slightly leaning towards turrets syndrome.
I am mother fucking miserable.
Here's your positive fucking affirmation for the day.
no matter how many mistakes i make, or how slow i progress, i'm still way ahead of everyone who isn't trying.
Yeah.
So-fucking-what.
