I’ve been debating whether I should be honest on this blog about just how hopeless things can feel and how low I can get with this sickness. Part of me thinks I should keep it factual, try to report the facts, not make things sound so dire and depress those that might be reading. But, things often feel dire and, if I’m going to use these posts for the therapeutic purposes they’ve taken on, maybe I should be honest with my feelings.
So, honestly, I’m scared and feeling pretty hopeless – today. I know, from the last nine months, when my physical symptoms are better, my mood lightens immediately, so I’m trying to keep things in perspective. You will have a better day than today. Take one day at a time. You’ll live to a ripe old age. You will have a quality of life. It’s just difficult to stay positive. It’s virtually impossible. In the simplest description, I have had the flu for nine months. That’s not the half of it, obviously, but, it’s the best way to get across how it feels. Tonight I feel like shit. It’s the same thing I keep describing: I can’t breathe, every muscle is stiff and painful, I have a headache and feel weak, my throat is sore, I have chills, low grade fever and no appetite. I just want to get better. I just want ...to…feel…better. To feel strong. To feel stable. To feel pain free. To feel carefree. To not notice how I feel!
The truth is, I can’t do this for years and it feels selfish. Things could be so much worse. I could be much sicker or I could be much poorer or I could have no husband, friends or family. I could live in a different country, I could be in a war zone, I could have no access to healthcare, I could have no bed, no blankets. I could be much sicker. I have to find the strength to be grateful every day. We all do. So, in that spirit: I am grateful to be alive. As long as you are breathing, there is more right with you than wrong with you.