It's a beautiful day

And I'm about ready to scream. I am going to scream if I have to spend one more minute being sick and unwell and having old things go wrong again on my insides, when I thought they were resolved. I am going to scream if one more *new* problem shows up. I am going to scream if I have to spend one more day where my energy level belly-flops by mid-afternoon.

I am going to scream if I have to take off work and visit one more doctor who frowns and shakes his head and says, "let's take a wait and see approach" or "I don't know if it's cancer or not. Could be. Probably not. Can't tell without opening you up. Don't worry about it" or "take off work again next week for this test. Oh, and the soonest you can get in for a follow-up appointment is next month." I am going to scream from the effort of trying not to talk about this because after a few months, people get tired of hearing about it and assume you're just a psych case.

I am going to scream, and the screaming will activate my head whirling because that is my body's current way of responding to stress. By making my brain vibrate and my head ache and sending electricity through it.

And I'm so tired of praying. I pray constantly for help, and that's about it. My "dialogue" with God seems to be a monologue that currently consists of my helpless yelping for a hand up.

I am doing better than I was. I keep telling myself that. Things have improved. Or I've slipped back to square one. One of the two.

Please Lord... help me. See, even though I'm sick of it I can't stop. 1. Because it's a habit, and 2. Because He's the only one who can help.