Somehow I thought having a name for what I’m experiencing, feeling and going through would… I don’t know… help? Make it all make sense? Make it all okay? Not necessarily better but give a sense of direction maybe, for the future. Three possibilities left, and the waiting truly is heart wrenching. I won’t get started on the tests. Getting through each hour in a day just to go back to sleep and wake up to do the same thing, have the same questions and thoughts… it’s draining. But somehow, I really did think getting a diagnosis would help. Instead it makes me question everything I do in a day, say to a person, how I speak. It’s mentally draining to know something and have to go through the motions of daily life… like everything is “normal.”
Or having to calm others down and put on that brave front even more. I wake up every single morning hoping what I was experiencing the days, and nights before are all gone. That everything is truly 100% okay. The lumps are still there, the swollen fingers and legs still happen, the bones still feel like their slowly being hack sawed… and that exhaustion is 10000% making it all worse. But maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up and it’ll all just go away. Maybe if I can fall asleep, and stay asleep for more than 3 hours, maybe then my body will decide to fight back on it’s own.
Until then, the wait.