How many times can someone get kicked in the head and keep picking themselves up?
This latest blow has well and truly floored me. I've tried my best to turn this situation around, carry on with work, and see my friends, but I just can't do it.
Now before I drown you all with my unrelenting misery I'd like to say thank you to all the new readers and the people who have taken the time to comment.
As you can see from previous posts I really think it's important that I should reply to people who have given their time to support me and wish me well.
This time I have been unable to keep up with the huge numbers of people dropping me a line. I apologise for that.
But I would like to say that despite everything that's happened to me those comments did help and provided a much needed lift from the gloom.
For all of you who are following this blog outside the UK my story was featured in one of our national newspapers the Daily Mail this week. The Mail has a huge circulation, well over two million copies sold a day, and I would say one of its main focuses is health.
As you can see the response from that piece has been quite incredible so to all the new readers welcome on board.
However, the upbeat stuff ends here - this is not a particularly fun post. I also apologise for that.
Since the separation I have really felt like I no longer have anything to live for. As I explained before ALL my hope was resting on that wedding and having a family.
The trip to see my friends was great but that had to end. I had to come back to real life.
As I have said to my medical team - on many occasions - if they could fix any of the following I know I would be OK;
1. Dry and itchy skin.
3. Restore my energy levels. I am always a bit tired and can only manage brief walks.
4. Enable my body to play any of the sports I used to love so much.
5. Give me back a full life expectancy.
6. Immune system.
7. Let me go on hot and sunny holidays abroad (the skin will react badly to intense UV light).
I'd love to get away and travel like I used to but it's just so much harder now.
I'm so tired of going through the same routine every day. Get up, do work, go in the shower, moisturise, wash with special emollient shower gel, use special shampoos, wash with steroid lotions, come out, dry off, apply moisturiser over all the body, have to use a special back applicator now I'm on my own, then put on a layer of steroid cream too. After that you put your clothes on and it always feel the same - cold and gloopy.
Every day the Graft versus Host Disease throws up new problems.
My steroids were down to 2.5mg a day (the next drop in the dose would have been to come off them altogether) but then my eyebrows and eyelashes started to come out. This is because my rogue immune system is attacking these hair follicles. Not my chest, back or shoulders. Oh no, it's the hair that everyone will really notice.
Every day eyelashes would scrape my eyeball and be incredibly irritating.
To combat this I took the steroid dose back up to 5mg and I've managed to save them for the time being.
I'm just utterly fed up with the situation I'm in and am helpless to escape from.
Anyway, something has happened, maybe my brain has imploded, but since the separation I have chosen not to take any of my pills; with the exceptions of those keeping my skin under control.
These pills include my artificial immune system. Antibiotics, antivirals and anti fungals. I am at a very high risk of a very unpleasant, potentially fatal infection.
More worryingly I have also stopped taking a drug called Glivec. This is an incredible medicine that should be keeping my chronic leukaemia at bay. If you recall the last sample showed it had returned slightly. I have no idea what damage I have done to myself here.
I am still waiting for the results of the recent bone marrow test. The following one could be more interesting.
You might find this behaviour unacceptable and I have to confess I am really ashamed of myself after everything I've been through.
I just can't alter my frame of mind.
To me this seems like the only rational choice.
I confessed all this to my excellent team and they were understandably concerned.
The next step on this journey was to see a clinical psychiatrist for depression.
I have never had any problems with my mental health and I still argue that I'm not clinically depressed. What human being wouldn't be a bit miffed with all the shite that has been hurled at me?
However, I did take her advice and started a course of anti-depressants.
She prescribed Citalopram but I reacted to it very badly.
For a week I was sleeping 12 hours a day and waking up with what I can only describe as a terrible hangover. I was groggy, drowsy and felt awful.
That medication was stopped and yesterday she prescribed another one from the same family of drugs called Fluoxetine aka Prozac.
I'm in a right mess and for the first time in my life have no idea what to do.