I am in pain. Lots of pain. I don't know why. Not exactly at least.
I've been to the doctor. I've taken pills. Nothing really helps. I just have to live through it.
It'll go away soon and then it will be a while, weeks, before it comes back.
I'm doing something about it. And hopefully, soon, it will be all better and I'll never have this pain again.
In the meantime, there's not much more demoralizing than having pain that I can't do anything about.
I don't cry when I'm in pain. I mean, sometimes, I'm crying so hard that I don't look where I'm going and I walk into a doorway and then I'm both in pain and crying. And sometimes, I am in so much pain that I can't do something that I think I really should be doing and then I cry in frustration.
But, I don't cry because I'm in pain. I cuss. And I yell. And I whine. I whine a lot. I get down and I get angry. I get lots of angry.
I have a kind of high pain threshold. Not as high as Brynna's, but higher than some people.
So, when I am actually feeling my pain, I get really cranky. I'm not used to this. Little cuts and scrapes don't bother me. I don't know where half my bruises came from. And now, suddenly, why does my body hate me? That's as far as my mind will function.
As you can tell by the scattered (haha) way this post is written, my mind isn't functioning particularly well.
So, you know, I'd like to talk coherently about something. I really would, but not today. Today is my Pain Day and you should be pleased that I wrote anything at all.