It'd the 3rd. I went to the ER on the 3rd of June, so one full month.
This month has been an exercise (hah) in "losing weight is not always healthier." I've dropped 15 lbs in the time I've been sick. At the same time, I am constantly exhausted and my knees feel like jelly every time I stand up. My unmedicated heart rate is high enough to frequently make me dizzy. My nutrition is in the shitter (hah). My unmedicated emotional state is worse than the above.
One of the most frustrating parts is that even though my body is trying to fall apart, I'm still visibly heavy enough that people would say I'm not "trying" hard enough and should lose more faster.
On the other hand, Mama's been pretty sympathetic. Which comes as a surprise because she's been a huge concern troll about my weight for the vast majority of my adult life. I guess the fact that my sickness has been so similar to the problems she's also been suffering with food and medication has spun the solidarity dial hard enough to override her usual mindset. She even told Dad to ease off hassling me about medication this morning.
Okay. Daily Whine out of the way. Idk what I'm gonna do today, it's so hard to focus on anything. Maybe I'll load the queue?





















