I am feeling absolutely great. I have recovered from my horrific wasting disease.
I secretely wish that I was still ill. When I was ill I did lots of nice, secret things. I ate the most delicious of foods and threw them all up again. I lay in my bed hallucinating and shivering with a diabolic warmth. I felt seperate from the world in my small and comfortable coccoon.
I love feeling ill. I feel further away from life.
I have to call into work when I am not very well to update them on my status. I need to ring every five minutes and update my status.
I feel strange and different.