A lot* has been happening
A lot of it good, but a fair amount of it has been less than average.
New house is good. Big. Spacious. Closer to town (not that I go) and better for schools.
Dogs are wonderful. Both learning manners and awesomeness.
Seeing more of Clancy. She basically lives in the bedroom.
Kids are happy. They have their own space and independence and they're handling it pretty well. They're becoming little men. And I'm super proud of them.
Nick is great. He makes me smile and laugh everyday. And even though sometimes he's a complete moron and I want to punch him in his stupid head, I love him.
It'll be our one year anniversary on Thursday. We're going out to dinner hopefully. Probably just to the pub, and l'll probably end up getting a chicken parmi, but those are good things. No problems there.
So now we know why I feel so downright crap the majority of the time. I've been properly diagnosed with chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia. Google them too. Super fun happy times... I know that there's a camp of people who don't believe these things are real. 'you don't have chronic fatigue, you're just tired'. No, actually I have chronic fatigue. 'you don't have chronic fatigue, you're just fatigued no. I have chronic fatigue and it's fucking bullshit.
I am not in debilitating pain. Nope. Not screaming and writhing around. Not entirely dependent on drugs to get through the day. But I am in a constant amount of pain that never goes away. It is constant. Always there. Pain and tired, no matter how much rest I get. No matter how much I 'take it easy'. Just pain.
I hurt myself at work last year. Ulnar nerve entrapment in my arm and did something in my back so bad I couldn't breathe. There is a name for it, I just can't remember.
I've been seeing physios since February. Twice a week at least. I see two therapists for my arms, one for my back and one who helps for both, as well as my regular doctor.
I'm still working, parenting, and in this time my dog died, I moved house and had a car crash.
Last week, after two weeks of coughing, I went to the doctor who said its possible I have whooping cough. I probably don't. We'll find out tomorrow, but whatever this cold is, it's fucked.
My house is great, but nothing is put away, and when I try to put things away, I hurt so much i need to lay down for an hour.
My house is great, yet has no Internet access, and probably won't for years.
I have had enough
I want to stay in bed and watch my so called life. I want to run away. I want to have a baby so that I have something. I realise how stupid that sounds. And none of those things are going to happen, but I don't know the answer. I don't know the answer.
*on a side note, next pet I get is going to be called 'alot'. Google image it.