I Just About Hate Everything

I've found a new blogger than has said almost exactly what I've been feeling lately in regards to the pain in my body. In this post she pretty much sums up everything, especially the part where she says, "I always held out hope that I would find something to "fix" me. I thought if I did enough yoga, or acupuncture, or massage, or stretching, that I would be cured. I'm all for putting up a fight, but this latest diagnosis has made me realize that I can not be cured. I will struggle with this for the rest of my life."

I don't have a diagnosis yet, and it's doubtful that I ever will. I sit at work in tremendous pain waiting until I can leave and trying to figure out how I can just keep working even though everything tells me to stop. I try to go for short walks at work, get up and change positions, lay on the floor and do yoga, and take anti-inflammatories like they are going out of style. At night, I eat peanut butter out of the jar for no apparent reason. Sometimes I wake up with peanut butter in my mouth and I'm not sure when I ate it and I wonder what my body is trying to accomplish.

The best part of my day is the first hour after I wake up. I'm sore from the pain the previous day, but it doesn't actively hurt. I can make my bed, fold laundry, and tell Zac "no" when he asks to watch another show on PBS because we need to leave for school and work. I don't feel like I want to curl up and have long heart-to-heart talks with God. I feel like me, for a little while at least.

What's most concerning to me is the thought that there may not be a physical cause for the pain I'm in. After the x-rays and the tests, it might be left with nothing other than a list of things I don't have. There might not be anything that I can do other than what I'm doing now and that thought scares me more than anything.