Nothing about being chronically sick is easy. Being able to do little things usually seem like big things. Little dreams seem like big dreams.
Going a day without needing an appointment or going without pain, and exhaustion would be a amazing. Its been years since that has happened. I pray it will.
I am unable to drive, go to school, have a job. But fighting to get through the day, surviving the day, is a job all on its own.
Everyday seems like a fight. Everything I do, I fight to do it.
I fight everyday. I fight for my heath. I fight to live. I fight for a future.
Even if I am feeling a little better my symptoms are still debilitating. Being able to sit up for an hour or so without too much pain or exhaustion is considered a better day. Being able to sit outside, or walking into the kitchen to get my food or drink is something I usually have to push through to do. Even taking a shower, with a shower chair is still hard most of the time.
How did everything become this hard?
I can’t run away from my illness. To get through this I have to face it head on, and that is what I try to do everyday.
I don’t know direction I am headed in.
Do I even have a direction?
I know what my goal is, to get better, to live, not just survive. I guess I will start with that.