The battle against the brick wall

I'm not sure why I do this--but I tend to shy away from writing about the bad things in here.  Maybe it's because I'm such an optimist that I think even writing it means admitting a little defeat? It's as though I'm such an optimist, that I get embarrassed when I'm not feeling that optimistic?  But it's ultimately an irrational fear--everyone has tough days, everyone has problems.  It's whether or not we choose to let them consume us, right?  I guess it makes me feel as though if you're walking with your head down, you're missing the possibility that the sun might come out.

I wrote today that it impresses me the way my body responds practically no sleep.  You know those nights where you swear you could count almost every minute, and in reality you probably slept 2-3hours?  I have those nights about once a week now that the RBS is "more under control".  (for those of you who aren't frequent readers-- I've been diagnosed with Restless Body Syndrome.  I wrote about it here) I've learned through the weeks that turned into months following that the iron does help, but it's still there.  It's nice having someone to sleep next to frequently lately-- if your brain is distracted it happens less it feels like.   I substantially limited my alcohol intake-- it made it so much worse that I would have anxiety attacks. (example:  Last night, I "treated myself" to 4 beers at my boyfriends show -- I slept approximately 2 hours last night).   I rarely like to say too much about health things-- I know that I do in fact deal with a lot, but they're not terminal, they're manageable, and I am lucky that I can function fairly normally.   Sometimes it gets frustrating, painful, embarrassing.  I work diligently to not be identified as the "girl who is always sick" or treated as if I'm in need of sympathy.  There are moments I'd like someone to take my medical concerns into consideration, but I never want those moments to define who I am as a person (does that make sense or is this only coming out coherent in my head?). 

I know that tomorrow will be brighter, that tonight I have enough time to take some sleeping medication, and that I will wake up feeling less worn out than I do now.  I'm grateful to have that mindset.  If there's a brick wall put up, it's not a barrier, it's so if you want something bad enough, you climb it--leaving the people who prefer to dwell crying about how a wall was placed in their "path".  Maybe that's what the trouble is with our dark days?  We get so stuck in moments?

I'm sorry if this post wasn't that interesting-- I think I wanted to vent and reassure myself all at once and it sort of ended up jumbled.

I appreciate those of you who continue to read, though it has been sporadic lately.