Over the winter I began to think I finally had a handle on this thing which assails my mind, my body, my spirit. I began to think that I could get on with life, do some of the things I've always wanted to do.

But I'm sick. And I'm tired of being sick. Not physically tired --- I think my soul is tired, it feels like it's had enough. I don't just hurt, although that is everywhere -- I feel physically ill which makes it all the more difficult to do something as small and insignificant as laundry, shopping, cooking - even washing my hair. On top of the fibro pain there is additional pain from previous injuries, some old and some recent, or even places I haven't injured that are developing calcifications, seize up and hurt like hell.

I've heard all the trite saying I can take for a while. I know that when I come to the end of my rope I'm supposed to make a knot and hang on. I know I'm supposed to get out there, give it the old college try and "just do it". I know "you deserve it". I know "no pain, no gain" and "push through the pain". But I've had it. Sitting here in an empty house that needs cleaning, only feeling like going back to bed but knowing I'll be wasting another day of my life I have just plain had it.