Wishing for something to make me happy

Oneday soon, I'm sure I will get a break. In the past week, or so, the following has happened:

• I have had a badly infected foot, toe and tendon, involving a trip to casualty, a week of no walking and two courses of antibiotics. My foot still has slight swelling and pain along the tendon, but *fingers crossed* it is now completely on the mend.
• My Nana's dog, Shona died. She was a 13 year old Yorkshire Terrier. My Nana found her dead in the kitchen returning from a trip to town with my cousin. Shona died most likely from a heart attack, but as we have a small family, even the animals form a large role. She was part of my life for 13 years, so, it is upsetting to lose her.
• I have suffered daily gall bladder attacks, with a number of extreme attacks. In all honesty, hospital should have been considered. But I didn't. Instead, I took drugs, I suffered and I slept.

Mentally I am perhaps as bad as I've been. I'm unsure if it is my drugs - which can have depression as a side-effect, or if it simply something that was inevitable. Come January 2009, I will have been sick for five years. Over this time, my life has eroded away. I cling to what I have, and that in itself is not much. I have my family and I have Paul and I have my animals. And that is it.

Friendship wise - I have friends, but for those in real life - I don't rank very high. I'm sure they care, or at least believe they care, but their actions say different. It is harsh to say such things, as with all my friendships - I was always the one who travelled to them. I cannot drive safely now, so I never see anyone. Now, I realise my friends have their own lives - but one of my ''best'' friends, I haven't seen since last Christmas - and that was only to exchange presents. My other ''best'' friend, I have seen perhaps 5 or 6 times this year, and that is only out of guilt, I believe.

But I get off course, although those are things which upset me. I have been totally morbid of late. I believe that I will die due to this illness. Perhaps it was the insistence of my consultant who told me outright I would die (professional behaviour? hmm), or just continual pain, plus drugs and a life that is going nowhere is making me feel this way. Some days, I honestly would rather be dead. I'm at a point where I don't want to keep going. I want to stop, I'm fed up, I want to be pain-free - I want to be drug-free. I can't remember what either of those are like. It seems like a surreal dream to have a life where I'm not popping pills or feeling stabbing pains in my body.

I don't worry about dying, I don't care anymore. Which is honest. I do care about what my death would do to those around me. I worry that Paul would kill himself. He's said he would, in a semi-joking fashion, but his sister's death sent him to suicide. I am as much his life, as he is mine, I don't know how he would want to go - that's not me being big headed, but if he died, I'd want to die too. I don't think my parents would cope well either. My Dad is my best friend, and I, his. I don't want to die, don't get me wrong. I have so many dreams and desires and wishes, but I'm so fed up. I wouldn't actively seek death, but the way I feel, I wouldn't fight against it.

Argh, I shouldn't write blog updates while I'm sore. It's just a bad idea. I have pains wracking all down my right side, with stabbing pains going straight across my gall bladder. I have taken all the painkillers I safely can. I could take more, but I worry about overdosing. While I would not turn away death, as I said above, I don't want to lead to my own. I just want to not suffer. And I don't think that is a big thing to ask. I'm fed up of suffering, I'm fed up sitting here thinking like this.

To sound completely corny - I would like to be happy, but being happy while being in pain is really difficult. I can't brush it off now, I find it harder to hide as well. I used to be able to hide being in pain, now I burst into tears. While also being unable to walk. Every attack cripples my back, and I walk like an old woman, while my breath hitches and my nose runs. It isn't my best look. I hate being who I am just now.

I hate that my sole topic of conversation of late is my health, is of pain and is of drugs. No wonder people don't talk to me, I'm not cheery and I know the last thing people seem to want to hear about is health. But I don't talk about it in real life, or I try not to, online I've been trying to stop as well, well, except here, because I don't want to even start thinking about what others must feel about me constantly going on about me. It must seem like I only care about my own health etc, but I don't. I just need to let it out, and being unable to walk to the top of a mountain to scream, I need to talk, I just have no one to talk to it about.

I also hate feeling so sorry for myself. I hate weakness and self pity - and that is what I have became - someone who is weak and filled with self pity. I really wish things were different, but before I deteriorate further - I'm going to call it a night.