Fickle

I changed my mind. It's not stress. It's the other way around. I remembered I was coping quite well, trying to figure out what was wrong, and taking care of myself, but it just wouldn't go away - and that's when I got stressed, upset, even depressed about it. I began to understand why people with chronic illness get depressed.

I usually wake up feeling positive and energetic, listing in my head all the things I want to get done that day, happy and feeling eager to get started. But with this stupid 'illness' I would wake tired, remember, and groan inwardly at the thought of battling it for another day. That's what was so hard.

When the work stress let up, things got better as I had less to worry about, but it has not gone totally gone away - though I feel less dizzy and have not had any major dizzy spells for a month or so.

So that's that, and I still worry about what it is, and wonder if I should go back to the doctor, and wonder if it would go away if I lived somewhere else, and here I am moaning about it. My toe that was broken last year is playing up too, which I think is hilarious  - I am now officially old as I have a body part to moan about.

I'm pretty sure there was something else I felt I needed to write about, but I've had enough of today so oh well, goodnight.