These past few months have given me so much relief. Although still far from normal, I can function for that much longer and smile when I decide to.
But these last few weeks have seen the pain, and unforgiving tiredness creep back in. I felt like I was facing it for the first time all over again.
It’s amazing how something I have been through so many times can feel so unfamiliar. Thw worry comes back, and I found myself in pieces all over again. I was a vomiting mess in the bathroom crying into my husband asking him, why this has happened to me? Why was I the one living through this and what was, is the whole point in carrying on?
I have been here before, but this time the pain is so much stronger, the tears come far quicker and I just cannot grasp why anyone has to live like this.
I don’t feel brave.
I don’t feel inspirational.
I don’t feel anything that’s fair?
I am so used to painting on a smile and just doing, that the days I cannot ‘do’ just hurt so much more.
It might not be the time of year people want to read, see or hear about all this, but that doesn’t matter to my disease. Because I don’t get time off from it just because it’s Christmas.
It doesn’t care that I have a life to lead and children to give the magic of December to.
It still is the relentless bastard it has always been, merry or not.
Today my head feels a little bit lighter, I am out of bed and aiming to carry on as normal. Because that is all I can do. That is all anyone like me can do. Try.