cost of happiness

I barely slept at all last night. All night long, my gall bladder was sore. Crippling pain in my side and back. By 6am, I'd eventually taken enough painkillers that the pain was dulling off, and slowly I got comfortable, only for the position I was in to have my knee go out and cause excruciating pain from there. I just couldn't win. In the end, due to the painkillers knocking me out I got maybe a few hours sleep. Which wasn't great since I had plans (for the first time since April) to see a friend.

But - the show must go on - so my friend came over, we went up to my field and saw the horses, showed her kids Harvey, who was very nice and ate his dinner next to them. Then we went to the play park at the colzium, which is newly built and has lots of cool things. After that, I was dropped off back at my house, and back to normal routine.

Normal routine including my gall bladder complaining loudly about everything. Like breathing for instance. Yes, I know, get your ass to hospital, but well - not that easy. My Dad was drinking, so unable to drive and my Mum ''can't'' drive. I've lost count of exactly what I've taken, all I know is that it still hurts but I have an opiate haze going on and my throat is dry as a bone and my nose feels funny. So probably a few too many painkillers, but hey, whatever works.

My Dad's drinking isn't something new. I wish he wouldn't drink, but he does. And sometimes, like tonight, he becomes the most annoying drunk. Loud, opinionated - almost to the point of being nasty about things. Thankfully this time round I wasn't the target, my Mum was. While he does have a point on what he's talking about - he does it in totally the wrong way to make any impact at all. And he nips my head about things, looking for me to agree with him, when really I just want to not be involved. I love my Dad to bits, but I think I could do without him drinking ever again. He keeps saying he'll stop, but then doesn't.

Following that, when I did decide to get up and come upstairs - I fell flat on my face, having stood on a dog chew bone, went over on my ankle and twisted it - falling in a manner which also hurt my gall bladder. Well it would, wouldn't it. God forbid I do something that *doesn't* hurt that bloody organ. So I'm now in bed with my ankle strapped up. Fantastic, really, just what I needed.

In a move to indulge in retail therapy which I cannot afford in the slightest, I bought some Webkinz. Seriously, I can't afford it. But I also didn't care. Something had to make me smile, so having already ''won'' the Clydesdale Webkinz on an eBay auction, I spotted some cheaper horse webkinz - namely the black stallion and the pinto and bought them on Buy-It-Nows. I really shouldn't have done it, and I will regret it BIG TIME, but I needed it. It was buy soft toys or break down in tears. So I bought soft toys, being the easier of the options. I also have a black cat webkinz coming soon. I wish I could sneak them into the house, rather than face people questioning me buying them, but they'll arrive by post and god forbid I get privacy. My parents gave me more privacy when I was healthy, now - nothing is sacred and everything I do is noted down. Bad enough I have no freedom due to being ill, slapping on no privacy really makes things depressing.

There's so little these days that makes me happy. I feel miserable most of the day, every day. And find it hard to not just start sobbing randomly. Maybe it's hormones, maybe it's just that years of being ill have taken their toll and I can't pretend everything is ok anymore. I'm popping Class A drugs like they are sweeties. I probably have enough painkillers in my system to classify me as a junkie. And I have no life left, I rely on Paul for pretty much everything - and feel he's lost his life because of me, because we don't (and often can't) go out as much. So he's lost touch with some of his friends, I've practically no friends I'm in touch with anyways, since I can't travel often to go see them. If it weren't for Paul, I'd be suicidal. On a regular week, the only people I see are my parents and Paul. And week in, week out - it goes on like that.

Oh I know, I've a lot to be thankful for, but I didn't picture myself at 26 spending the majority of my time in bed or wasted on controlled drugs. I pictured myself in my own house and married, which will happen - but not until I'm ''fixed''. And in the mean time, all I do - day in, day out - is play my DS, read books, play fluff friends and play webkinz. Logically I know my life isn't that bad - and without the pain, hey it might even be alright, but emotionally, I'm through with it. And I want to be happy. I used to be happy. But now I feel a burden to those around me - and financially I am - then spending my money (and wasting it) on things to make me happy (webkinz, DS games, books) - seems wrong. I don't *need* these things, and I end up feeling tearful because I've done things to try and cheer myself up. How fucked up is that?

I guess it's just one of those days. Maybe I should just be thankful I'm still alive and be done with it. Even if at times dying seems like the lesser of the evils when I'm in pain.