I've been talking to the people on the support group more and more lately. These people are just....amazing. I am getting emails and IM's from people saying "I understand how you feel. None of my family and friends really understand what its like to feel so crappy every day. They think its all in my head. What kind of life is this? I just didn't imagine life to be like this. This is no way to live and we are too young!"

This is exactly how I feel, verbatium. It is endlessly heartbreaking to feel so awful all the time. Yes, it physically hurts my physical heart, but emotionally, the pain is more than I ever expected, and much worse than I was prepared for.

The day I was told by my neurologist that he doesn't expect me to get better, and that there really is no treatment, I just have to deal with this, I felt devistated. I was talking about it with Christopher and upon asking me how I feel, I burst into tears and I said "I feel like a cancer paitent." I feel like there's this thing fucking with my body and my mind making me an absolute basket case, and there is *nothing* I can do about it.

I apologize for bringing this up so frequently, but I feel as though I am finally starting to heal the emotional damage. For months I'd been wandering around feeling like a lunatic, out of control, and completely, irreversably, fucked up. I feel as though with the help of these people, I am finally begining to understand and heal.

These past several months have been amazingly enlightening. I understand now how people can go completely insane, and kill 30 people with a machine gun because they were insensative assholes. I understand how and why people go postal. This all makes perfect sense to me.

For quite a while, I've been feeling suicidal. I've been feeling hopeless. I'm tired of feeling tired all the time. I'm tired of feeling crappy all the time. I'm tired of crying because I feel weak and worthless.

Plain and simple, what's the point of living if you cannot enjoy your life? It is no way to live to constantly be in pain. I can't walk upstairs without pain. I wake up sometimes, and the first thing I feel in the morning is an upset stomach, and palpitations, and shooting pain down my spine, and a migraine. I go to a friend's house to hang out with 5 of my friends, and I spend the entire next day in bed recovering because it takes so much energy to be social and awake, that it completely wears me down.

I see the people I love and care about do these things I wish I could do. Like go to college full time, walk around campus, go hiking, go for a jog, go work out, go to a party with a bunch of friends, go dancing, whatever. And I feel as though I'm left outside of this world. I am stuck and I am trapped behind a big, thick, glass door that I am incapable of breaking through. It's....such a weird feeling to be part of this world, but not really be part of this world.  

I've been trying to find new things I enjoy, and do more of what I do enjoy. I try to take more photos, and write more poems, and be around the people I love, and read books I like, and play some games I like, but knowing that I can't work, and knowing that I cannot walk around so much, and knowing I may feel like this for a very long time to come, makes me feel so incredibly worthless, weak, and depressed.

I try not to be upset, and I try to be strong, and I try to be happy. The fact of the matter, is that I'm way too entirely stubborn and proud to kill myself over something as pesky as a health problem.

But God knows, the idea is very tempting on the bad days. On the way to my neurologist's apointment, we were nearly in a car accident. My grandmother hadn't seen the car that was merging into our lane. In a split second, I had thought about keeping my mouth shut. I had thought about us rolling off the road, and rolling the car down the hill, and the smushed metal, and the shattered windows, and it sounded so incredibly blissful that I nearly let them hit us. I almost kept my mouth shut. I almost let the car get totaled. But at the very last split second I possibly had, I thought that maybe this doctor would be able to fix me, and in that moment, I didn't want to die anymore. So I screamed, and Gran realized what was going on, and she evaded the accident. We got to the doctors, and no, he cannot fix me. It's not expected that anybody really can, and the whole ride home, I was praying again for another potential car accident.

C'est la vie. I'm here. I'm alive. I'm obviously not going anywhere. ^_^ I'm healing. I'm nearly out of this depressed state that I've been living in for nearly a year.