It seems to me that being sick is a whole lot like blood in the water. Just like a wounded animal, the predators sense that I am weak, and they choose now to attack. It is the moment where I need support, that all of it vacates. When I thought I was making headway, suddenly I am reminded of why things are how they are...

It's one thing to be picked on by those who love me, because in the end, they make sure that I am ok and have what I need. They sit with me when I need a friend, and they get me orange juice and applesauce to make me feel slightly more human. Of course the people who are close to me know I am weak and now is a great time to pick because I wont fight back...but I don't have to worry about them deserting me when I fall.

Outsiders somehow know that this is the prime time to attack as well. My brain is foggy, and I cannot fight back as I should, so what better time to get their way. I don't know whats going on until its over, and by then, it's too late to do much of anything about it.

I don't get why Josh is so insistent that Connor has no problems. He was here for the meltdowns, he knows how they go...and yet he wants to take him off the meds.

'You arent a doctor'
'But I've done the research!'
'But you arent a doctor! If you were concerned you should have been by my side all along.'
'Well, I wasn't'
'No shit.'

Im sick of the battles, sick of the war. Im tired of trying to be the person and parent everyone else wants me to be. Im tired of being tired, of muddling through life as if there is nothing better. I've seen better, I've seen the bright side, and the fact that I am NOT worthless. I just have to make it out of this alive...

In the meantime, I will just try to keep the sharks away until the blood is gone.