out of life? I used to think that small moments of beauty, and the prospect of a better future for humanity were worth it.
Mainly, I am disappointed with myself for seeking answers where there are none. Intellectually I know that the universe owes me squat. I am so small that it's not even worth charting. And yet I still feel aggrieved and cheated out of a normal life when it's so completely unnecessary. There is no good goddamned reason that someone's body should work to reject and destroy one of it's own organs, but it happens all the time. It is happening to me, and above all things in this lifetime I would like it to stop.
I get depressed and angry over how completely this disease dominates my life. When I fight it I lose, and when I let it go it punishes me anyway. I can't eat anything, apparently, without blowing up into a huge ball of pain every afternoon. I have a huge mental block about going to class now, because those chairs are so damned uncomfortable and the room is so stuffy and I still can't bring myself to care about the subject. I made a promise that I would finish my degree here at Pitt, but the prospect of learning more about something that never interested me to begin with is depressing.
And I'm mad at myself for getting so depressed and emotional. I want so badly to believe that there's something that I can do, some hope that in the future I'll be able to walk around the world and not have this fear in my belly, but it's hard to fight the feeling that I'm just doomed to a life of pain and marginalization. And I can't even vent my rage properly now because my arms have seized up and the tendons are all inflamed and even my knee still crackles whenever I walk up stairs and I just can't fucking do ANYTHING but sit in my room and watch anime.
This is no way to live. I have to find a way to accept what I am, that it may never change, but still have some hope so that getting up in the morning isn't such an empty exercise.