I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired
Honestly. Truly. I’m typing this post at the end of a very long. Very blah. Very flare day and I’m glad it’s over. I try really really hard to maintain positivity, pep, fight, zeal, vigor, and might on most days. I muster up and pray for strength and energy to push through the fatigue, the listlessness, the fatigue, and the fog almost every single day. But some mornings (many lately) I wake up at 5:00 AM and I just lie there and say. This SUCKS.
Why do I have to feel this way every single waking hour of every single day?
Why do I have to think about my thinking?
Why do I have to talk myself through simply sitting up in bed?
Why do I have to deliberate on whether I have enough non-existent spoons?
Why do I have to prioritize what is most important and what can I cancel?
Why do I have to justify laying in bed all day?
Why do I have to Justify pushing myself?
Talking through how I will cancel?
Think about the future financial implications of missing a day of work?
Feel like a failure?
Talk away the guilt?
Question my entire existence?
Try to find the beauty in the pain?
Why do I have to explain to myself that it’s ok to be negative?
It’s ok to sit in the pain for a day?
To wallow is the pity?
Why do I have to question why?
It’s days like today that I hate. I hate this illness. But what I hate even more is its insidious effects on my mental stability, my thought process, and my psyche. It hate that it chips away at my spirit. It gnaws at my soul. It zaps away at my happiness. A vicious never ending cycle of chasing the light. Trying to find beauty in madness. Light in darkness. See the beauty beyond the pain.
Raise your hand and comment if you feel or have felt this way? I promise I won’t judge you if you do. It’s ok to allow yourself to feel the hate. To despise the pain. Allow yourself to not be ok. To articulate that this fibro life is hard. This Fibro life sucks.
You can be in pain yet you can see beauty…
To Be Continued…