It's been

One year since everything was screwed up.
One year of pain.
One year of joy.
One year of sitting out.
One year of deep thought.
One year of medical mystery.
One year of intense prayer.
One year of pleading for answers.
It's been one year, and it's over. I don't feel any different. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I need a true distraction. I need you. And you. And you. And you. And you.

Distraction by Angels and Airwaves

Happiness is a mood, not a destination.

I spoke too soon

It was over in an instant, yet it happened so slowly. I saw it coming. 

I thought that my struggle was over and that it would pay off. I could not be more wrong.

Sure, it could most definitely be worse, and I expect it to get worse. (optimism at it's best right here)

I lied to myself every day. I said that I wasn't getting my hopes up, but really, all that went through my head was "It's going to be different this time. They know that they're doing. They'll fix me and I can go back and do what I love."

^^proof of how the mind is the master manipulator

It's gone, and so is part of me.

I apologize if I shut you out. I do not mean to

.

And 350 days later..

I'm back