I have one that I have named Fuck This Shit. Seriously, that's how I refer to my pain journal. "Hey, has any one seen Fuck This Shit? I know I left Fuck This Shit around here somewhere. Like, maybe, under the couch?"
It is interesting to keep a log of symptoms, but is it truly healing? I have my doubts. Fuck This Shit's first few chapters were a litany of miseries. Take this, from 9/1: Feel like my face is going to fall off. Iced it. Is life worth living? Had a cookie. Etc. It goes on. So now I don't write in it anymore. Because frankly I don't want to know how much vitriol and despair I have, and who in this modern fast world of bananas doesn't?
I want to accentuate the positive, even if it is just at the moment the size of a flea. Smaller than a flea. An amoeba in a drop of pond water. So I scratched