I just balled up into a ball last night, just hoping to make it through. The vomiting hurt so bad I felt like a mob had kicked my ass. my mom had made me some perogies in hopes that I could eat something to soak up the acid. I was begining to wander if there was any acid left in my stomach after it all came out till nothing but dry heaves was all I could do. I couldn't really taste much when eating them since my tounge and throat were burned out by the stomach acid, but I managed to eat all 4 and keep them down. My stomach actually welcomed it and it began to sooth me. After I ate, I had no energy left so I curled up and hoped I could sleep. My stomach was still in nots, but it was calmed enough for me to handle it. Today, I had to get up and pick up a door from home depot, so even though I still felt shitty, I went through with it. The remainder of the day, I stayed in bed. I talked to Matthew and he made it sound like I didn't do anything. I got angry because I know if he were in my shoes, he couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle just trying to get from one day to the next with out feeling like giving up. Especially knowing that this is what you got until the mad scientists have an answer. Why does he always want me to be sensitive to his struggles but he can't be sensitive to mine? Am I just crazy for thinking it should go both ways?