Mood:  sad

Sometimes I can’t help but question why I got better. I was deeply ill back then. I was in excruciating pain and was unable to move and do simple tasks. Pulling my body up from bed was a painful ordeal in itself. Every movement had to be planned.  To escape the pain, I practically slept the whole day. Even so, I always felt tired. I wanted to die, not because I was giving up but because I was useless.

Anyone who saw me back then knew instantly that I was sick. It was at that point in my life that I decided to go to the province. I said to myself that either I will get better or I will die trying. I stopped all my meds and willed my body to move.   

Miraculously, I slowly gained my strength and the pain that I felt lessened. I thought that God must have something in store for me. I can not describe exactly in words the physical and emotional pain I felt then. I was just thankful that it was finally gone.

But now, I feel that what I am tasked to do is too much for me. The day to day anguish and mental torture is suffocating. Even sleeping, which was my refuge then, offers no escape. I see no light at the end of the tunnel. My back is already against the wall. No one is willing to help. Those that do show interest are driven by their own selfish motives. I guess trust is hard to come by these days.

This cross is to much for me to bear.