I feel like I should be thankful for every moment that I'm not too miserable to concentrate on my own thoughts. And I am! I'm incredibly grateful, but that mindfulness is hard to sustain when things don't get better.
A few years ago, when I was still on my feet walking the streets, I saw someone stop in the middle of the road and take a selfie. I remember giving a sardonic smile, shaking my head, and waiting for the sound of tires screeching on asphalt. This, of course, was before stopping traffic to... Continue Reading →
I eventually snap out of it and remember: Oh hey, there's another person here, someone helping me and we're supposed to be working together. But I don't want to work together, not on things I've done alone my entire life ...
I can't remember the last time I saw Kaylie. We went to school together, so it was probably some time after we graduated from high school in 2007. Consequently, our class recently had its 10-year reunion. I couldn't go because I have Lyme disease and ME/CFS, which makes it impossible for me to get around... Continue Reading →
I am always looking to compare treatments with fellow chronic illness sufferers. Unfortunately we have to be our own lab rats because so much is unknown about our illnesses. Below is a list of some of the medications I've tried over the years. I was thinking about adding supplements, but I'd need an entire blog... Continue Reading →
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 a deal with myself: If I didn't get better... Continue Reading →
... 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.
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?