5pm. I feel so lonely because the doc signed me off till the end of the year. And that means at least another three months of the hell I'm living in.
I cried when he gave me the sick note and he asked if I could really see myself able to go back to work before then. I said no, I really really want to, but I don't see how it can be possible.
I know he's right, and I know that even my work-in-bed plan has been proved impossible by the problems I'm having just doing the DLA forms, but even so. I want to work, I want to do more than lie in bed all day long, I want to have a life.
8pm. Pain getting worse as the evening goes on. Managed to sit up for two hours, and even managed a bit in with the chins, but only a few minutes. Also had to faff about wrapping a parcel, and that's probably why things are going downhill. The two top-ups at 7pm have done nothing, whereas the earlier ones helped. Will have to decide if it's worth breaking my limit later on. Those two have left me feeling very stoned, though not pleasantly so. I feel pissed and out of it and quite freaked - it's not nice.
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