Woke up still in a moderate flare. Still better than two days ago, but not good. It’s always such a delicate balance and it’s so exhausting trying to find it. So many days, weeks, months lost just trying to walk that razor’s edge, trying to get through the day and not making any progress toward any kind of end goals of being healthy. Just realizing how much time I’ve lost is so devastating. I would say that should motivate me, but the negative reinforcement I’ve experienced so much completely counters the motivation.
Finally ate some food at 4:30. My appetite is nonexistent on bad days. It finally catches up just before dinner time. I get most of my calories in a 2 hour window. Still hoping for a reduction in this fucking fibromyalgia. It happens whether I follow the strict diet or not. Nothing matters. This disease just hits whenever the fuck it wants. There is no way to avoid it. No way to plan for it. All I can do is just expect that it will hit me, and it’s never more than 4 days away.