Can you imagine being as stuck as I am right now? So wore out that you can't even clean your apartment, nor work. Yet I am being told I don't work because of anxiety. I don't work because I have bad fatigue, so bad at this point I couldn't even work from home because I can't focus. That is why so much time can pass with this blog before I update. Imagine not being able to run medical tests that might help discover a problem because it will restart the issues with the benzo withdrawal (you know the withdrawal I went through for months on end of never ending torture that no doctor or family member believed was happening and that it was all in my head.) and worse no one understanding why it would reset it.
I want so badly to write a book, but I don't have to energy to do it and I am so scared I will die before anyone will get to hear the full story. How did I fall through the cracks and how did I end up with so many road blocks in my way. Sometimes I wish I had a ghost writer who was local and could just spend weeks interviewing and recording me, then write my book.
It also makes me sad that if I died the people who have been reading my story wouldn't know I was gone. People would just think I stopped posting. My story would just get lost in the billions of pages of the internet and someday google would close down blogspot and it would all just be gone like none of my suffering ever happened. Do you know my boyfriend knows I have all these videos and blogs and he doesn't even read it. Everything that has happened with the benzo withdrawal and my health...no family member has even read about, nor my boyfriend or any "friend". My own parents couldn't even tell you the pills I took. I just sit here alone with all of this going on and a few people who email me off the internet, which is nice, but as you can understand just not the same.
Why doesn't anyone love me the way I need to be? Why can't I feel better? How did this all happen?
You know I am going to take some pics of how bad my apartment actually looks because sometimes it all just piles up and I am too tired to clean it. I am ashamed, but I want it to be seen.
You know no matter how many times I have tried to clean that toilet with different chemicals that junk will not come off. Tomorrow I go to the hospital to have my legs checked for peripheral arterial disease. Lets all hope I don't have that.