A lot of the time I don't like to talk about what goes on inside my head very truthfully or directly.  I almost feel ashamed or dirty whenever I talk about it.  I hate the idea of talking about my thoughts and being rejected, made fun of, laughed off, or the worst possible consequence which would be making another person feel worse by sharing what I'm thinking.  The voices in my head shout alarms, and I end up in a strange state of being where I'm at once having a panic attack and also telling myself I don't care and to calm down.

I'm sorta beaten down right now.  My medical situation is not improving as much as I'd like.  My platelets dropped again, nosebleeds are constant, my right knee is screwed up and I've been back to using a cane the past day or so, I have mystery bruises from simply existing, I feel full/sick even when I know I haven't eaten, things like that are adding up.  And I'm losing faith in my doctor.  I mean he tries, but he's not so useful.  I don't trust him, though.  His lack of empathy, lack of understanding, lack of direction... they make me nervous.  

As a for instance, the whole hernia thing.  I told him when I saw it that it was getting worse, and he brushed it off.  I mean I understand I'm not a doctor at all, but I feel like I'm right in being mildly disconcerted that there is a bulge underneath my skin that is growing each time I look at it, and today for the first time it didn't quite want to easily retreat when I laid down.  I also don't think he knows what this really means to me even from a purely narcissistic standpoint.  

I know I'm fucked up looking in the tummy area.  I have a huge scar, things are not cute, it's just a mess.  But before, at least I could be happy that I'm thin again.  Now there's a weird fucking random ball thing showing up over my navel and I'm just like "PEOPLE CAN SEE THAT, THEY CAN SEE IT UNDER MY SHIRT, THEY THINK I'M GONNA HAVE AN ALIEN HOP OUTTA MY TUMMY AND EAT THEIR FACE, WE GOTTA DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS, NOW."  Because usually speaking, when I'm anxious about something, I can take measures to fix it, but this isn't something I can fix, and I don't know how to proceed.  As fucking pathetic as it is to say, sometimes I wish I had someone around me who when I feel ashamed or stupid or incompetent could just tell speak up and say "Hey dude, he told you what he needed to tell you, fucking do something about it."  

I suppose that's sorta everybody's dream, thought, when life starts wearing on you.  It'd be so nice to not have to pick up the burden for a while, just leave it to someone else, but that's just not practical.  

Guess what I'm trying to say is I'm sorta hella sad lately.  Not sure how to break out of it.  I keep doing small things, trying to talk myself through my random down moments, trying to focus on progression and responsibility, trying to push myself to do or be more, but I feel like such a failure when I can't even do stupid small things like go buy a case of bottled water because I like bottled water because it tastes better than tap water here but I can't pick it up because I'm too much of a fucking crippled piece of shit to accomplish that one, single, solitary thing.  Not to mention things like reorganizing my bedroom, 'cause god forbid I try to move furniture by myself.  The loss of your independence makes you bitter, agitated, and spiteful.  I don't like to be those things.  

Please send me cat memes, wholesome photos, snippets of inspirational text, or something to distract me from the mounting discomfort of my reality.  I can pay with tiny short stories if you'll give me a theme, I like to trade on what I know.