So yeah...

I haven't written for a while cause it's all depressing. And it's not like there's a lack of depressing to be read on the web. I had written an entry about suicide which actually wasn't mopey, but I thought people would find it a bit too disturbing. Suffice it to say I think about it just about every day, and my fantasies have become more violent as time goes by.

So, what else is there. I called my mother to reassure her that really, RA is not such a big deal and that my little sister will be ok. It's a lie. I found out that she's on the same type of antiinflammatories that I take. I told her how much they helped me when I was first put on them. I told her she shouldn't stay on them for long though, the idea is to move her on to other medications to take care of the disease.

"How long were you on them?" she asked.

Silence.

"It's been six years." I don't have it in me to lie about this too, but I leave it at that, and don't go into the details, how it's weakening my bones, how it's turned my face into a puffy round caricature, how it's made me splotchy and covered in fuzz, how, if I take it too late in the day, I wake up drenched in sweat so bad that I can't sleep.

Yeah. It's all depressing.

No pills for what I fear