Some days are bad

And others are worse. Today is one of the "worse" ones. I have pain from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet, but mostly on the bottom of my feet.

Most of my bad days are okay. I mean, they suck, but they don't suck quite as much as this one does. Usually I'm able to recognize pretty quickly after getting out of bed that this will be a bad day and I know I'll be sleeping a lot and reading or just lying on my back for most of the day.

But today I had plans. I was going to clean my kitchen. Is it too much to ask that I just be allowed to clean my own kitchen? My god, I just want to CLEAN MY KITCHEN yet all I can do is sit here with this pain that seems to be taunting me and cry.

I was supposed to make cookies for a dear friend who's having her own issues. I can't even do that now. Do you know how much it sucks to not be able to keep your word on something like that?

I wanted to go to the grocery store. I wanted to buy food for my family. I wanted to be able to walk across the room without almost passing out.

I wanted, I wanted, I wanted...

But I never get what I want.

All I can do, literally, is sit here and cry. And there's nothing anybody can do about it. What will the doctors do? Give me shit for wanting pain meds? I don't want their stupid drugs anyway. I shouldn't have to take all those fucking drugs just to CLEAN MY KITCHEN.

The pain sucks but the news about my heart sucks more. What the hell am I supposed to do about that? The thought of it makes me want to vomit and I want surgery right now to fix it. But that's not going to happen because how can I call the doctor to tell him how freaked out I am when all I can do is sit here and cry?

I feel like a bad wife and a worse mother. Am I the wife that has the fucking kitchen clean? Am I the mother that takes her son and the dog out for a walk or bike ride? No, of course I'm not. Because I'm living in hell and all I can do is sit here and cry about it and feel sorry for myself because I have no control over my own life anymore.

I don't feel sorry for myself too often. Usually I just tell myself to suck it up because it'll be better tomorrow. It has to be better tomorrow. But I just can't do that today. Why? Because I can't clean my kitchen and I can't stop crying. I'm a snotty, sloppy, wet mess who can't stop crying not even when my dog and baby kitty climb on me to lick my face where my tears are.

Okay God or the Powers that Be or whatever the hell is out there, FINE. You win. I give up. This fucking whatever the fuck disease that you've given me has beaten me. Maybe not forever, hopefully not for long, but for today, you win. I give. I'm going to sit here and cry until all the tears in the entire fucking universe are used up and then I'm going to go steal some more from somewhere else. YOU WIN. Are you happy now? You broke me. You took my life from me.

You win. The Power in the 'verse has stopped me.