I feel like everything is going so well, but somehow, I’m only hanging onto my life by my fingernails. I’m not suicidal or anything like that, I’m just drowning. My partner and I are engaged, and every day since he asked, I’ve been positively joyous about it. It isn’t fading
Every time I start one of these posts, I feel I have to explain why I haven’t written in awhile. This time, it’s been a long while, so I’ll indulge the urge, but I really do want to stop doing that. Maybe someday I’ll blog regularly again. Maybe. Not long
Since 2020 screwed with my sense of time, I haven’t been able to regain it. Because so many things have changed since I last wrote, I was sure it had been months – plural – since I’d written anything here. Things are going suspiciously well again, with the exception of
For the first time in what feels like forever – in reality, since the onset of RA/fibro – I’m having trouble falling asleep. I have no trouble falling asleep on my partner while watching wonderfully weird tv, but settling down at bedtime is a different story. At work: I rewrote
It’s another. And another. And another. At one point, I asked my therapist if it was just my perception, or if relatively significant stressful things really kept happening in my life at this pace. We talked about determining which things to actively engage with, and while I appreciate that, I
I don’t know whether my brain fog is caused by my RA or by my RA meds, because they basically started at the same time, and the meds haven’t changed that much since. I do know that it creeps in at the most inconvenient times, and routine is the only
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