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i've been sick for almost 3 weeks. i have already gone to the doctor 3x. . i have bronchitus. they gave me inhalers and an antibiotic..but it isn't working. The doctor had me try this pill for my lungs on sunday...she warned me about mood-swings and hunger pains. I agreed to try. Well  it made me go insane. It gave me worse hunger pains than i've ever had in my life. and i'm anorexic (who didn't eat for days, and months on end....and this pill is far worse) And all day  i was eating normally, extra even, but the food wouldn't make the hunger pains go away. It was like my worst nightmare. It really screwed with my head. i felt like i was starving myself and that absolutely terrified me, because i don't want to do that anymore. so i lost it. i became very angry at the pill and the doctor. i don't want to feel like that ever again. i only took it once. the doctor said i could stop ....but i have to go back within a week. i may be forced to take that damn pill again. apparantly it may be the only thing that will help my lungs. but i don't know if i can do it. i'm not sure i could bring myself to take it ever again. I'm praying i get better.....

other than my health i've been happy. but being sick is starting to drag me down and piss me off. i'm tired a lot but i keep doing my normal things... i just want to be healthy and feel normal again. i feel pretty good inside despite it. My mood has stayed positive (except during the pill fiasco)

I've begun the process of confronting my past. I'm starting to look at my childhood honestly. When I was a little girl, living in the insanity that my family built around me, I thought that my life was normal. I had no concept of people living without abuse. It was the way things were. It was the way things were supposed to be. I never questioned my parents. Not till I was older. After I saw other kids families, the whole facade or normality vanished. But still, even when I was young, there was something deep inside me, some instinct that knew something was terribly wrong. I became the peacemaker. I was the perfect little girl. I played well with others, kept quiet and behaved very grown up for my age. I hardly ever did things I wasn't supposed to do. I always shared with other kids and gave hugs and acted sweet. I was very shy. Painfully shy. But I didn't know that. I didn't mind. When the rest of my family would collapse and begin the violent screaming matches, when things began to get physical ... I would work to calm everyone down. I made it my job to make everyone get along. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes the anger of my parents and sister would fizzle after I reminded them that we all loved each other. But most of the time no matter what I said, it was hopeless. I took it as a personal failure. So I began blaming myself for the problems at home. I blamed myself for not being good enough to fix everything. I would sometimes forget to pick something up or clean up after myself. My mother would go into a violent rage. She would verbally attack me. Often times she would physically attack me. I always thought she was justified. I thought that I deserved it, because I was bad and had made a mess. Recently I've been able to say to myself "kids make messes" that is ridiculous. I never deserved that for leaving my shoes near the door. One time ... . I think it was Christmas eve,  my sister and I baked cookies. I knew my mother would freak out when she saw the dirty dishes. She was hiding in her room. I feared her. I never knew what kind of mood she would be in. I anticipated her anger and being young, I thought the best thing to do was to hand-wash all the dishes in the bathtub. My mother heard the running water and came in to find me washing the dishes. She freaked out. Not only about the dirty dishes. But because I had made a mess, had made cookies, and was stupid enough to put dishes in the bathtub with all the germs. I think that was the Christmas eve that she flipped over the kitchen table and knocked over the tree. I thought all of it was my fault. I really did. I thought I was bad and wrong and stupid. I know today that I wasn't, and I'm not now. Remembering this stuff and grieving and confronting it all is pretty painful. It's a long process that I have refused to do up until now. I'm starting to get angry at my parents.. But at the same time I am able to be somewhat forgiving. I'm not going to blame myself anymore. I also know that both of my parents are very sick. They are mentally ill. I know they love me in the only way they can.....which needless to say is not real love. but they think they do. i know better than anyone when you're all fucked up in the head, you do crazy things to people. But i'm not going to start thinking they are free from responsibility. They had choices. There are things they could have done. They didn't do those things. My mother feels guilty. I know she does. And she's changed dramatically. She is still insane, but she's no longer violent. My father is in such deep denial he thinks HE is the victim. because HE knows everything and can NEVER be wrong. HE was put upon by a family who didn't see how great he was. He didn't try to strangle my mother and get arrested for it. NO. My mother caused it.  He was protecting himself. And the cops were out to get him. Yeah right. *sigh* it all just makes me so sad. I see the way things are, the way they were. And i am able to compare the insanity to reality. I am able to see things clearly now. But i can see that no one else in my family does. My sister is an alcoholic ....who drives in blackouts and gets loaded for ten hours at a time. She like my father, is ALWAYS right. My mother refuses to acknowledge ANYTHING I say unless it fits into her scheme of things. She will ignore me and repeat her concerns about money. No matter what I say. The only thing she ever talks to me about is money. Money and how much money I cost her and the house costs her. She even stopped in the middle of the road, while driving in traffic to examine a bill. She ignored the cars honking until she was ready to drive again. I try and tell her about something.....and she just totally disregards it or walks away. My father is absent. Most of the time i don't see him or talk to him. When i do , he is so far removed that it's like he's not there. But yeah . I have no control over any of them. I only have my own life. And damn. I am not going to live the way I've had to live in the past. I'm old enough to take care of myself. I deserve REAL love and respect. I'm never going to let anyone, including myself, convince me that I'm worthless again. And I'll be damned if anyone tries to abuse me again.