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I felt better when I got home, and it took longer to feel like s**t, so maybe it's going to ease off soon.
I refuse to be eaten alive by this. Not now. Not again.

I'm eating right now, even though it's making me feel sick. It should help in the long run. Maybe. I hope.

I'm fed up with being unhappy. I'm tired of month long spells of hating everything. I'm going to try something new, as of today.

I'm not going to let myself be miserable. Usually I just try to let it run its course, but how could it hurt to try to be happy?

Well. That's all, I guess.