chronic fatigue

The S-Word

Warning: This post is about depression and suicide ideation.  I knew early on in my illness that it could last a long time — years, maybe decades. I hoped it wouldn’t, of course, but as I often do, I feared the worst. So, when faced with the daunting thought of being indefinitely sick, I made …

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Insomnia and Other Forms of Drunkenness

… going a full day without sleep on top of having a chronic illness that already makes me feel drunk and exhausted is quite a struggle, or if we’re talking about the drunken/hungover equivalent, then, well, it’s quite the party. And by party I mean the BDSM kind with floggers, chains, and whips, which despite my jokes, I do not enjoy.

Happiness is . . .

The entire time I’ve been sick I’ve wanted to be that person — the person who brings tears of joy to dry eyes, the person who makes people believe in happy endings and the body’s astonishing ability to heal itself. I wanted to be that person so bad, perhaps even more than I wanted to merely do things that healthy people do. And to a certain extent I have become that person, or rather, I was that person and now I’m having a bit of an identity crisis. What happens when you are known for battling illness, then stop recovering?

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