Waking

In the spirit of the terminally ill patient, I have really pushed myself this morning to be as positive as humanly possible. I honestly woke up feeling like I imagine the day after chemotherapy is like. Lying in bed was absolutely excruciating, I felt like the definition of fucked up. Again, the type of feeling that makes me want to throw in the towel. However, I managed to pull myself through it and have a shower and grab a bite to eat. Now I am at least functional, but I'm tempted to return to the solace of the bed or couch and try to escape this reality i've been thrust into. This has been such a weird experience, total devastation out of left field. Regardless, I have promised myself I will do everything within my power to deliver me from this condition. This involves staying engaged in life regardless of how much of a burden it becomes. I feel less tied to the past, and ready to embrace this new chapter of my life. I just wish I didn't have to suffer so much, it doesn't seem fair. However, perhaps ordinary reason cannot account for my fate of suffering.