Living with Chronic

I need to vent a little.

I am tired. 

My back hurts.

I ache all over.

This is my normal.  My every day, my in-and-out, my always.  This is living with an auto-immune issue.  This is living with fibromyalgia.

I have been to doctors.  I refuse to be on medication.  I know it could be way, way worse, and I am thankful for my relative health.

So please, when you look me up and down and say, "Wow!  Where's the baby weight?" or even call me (jokingly) names because I'm "skinny," just understand that we all have different battles.  That my battles with my health are lame.  That I can't nurse my baby any more.  That maybe I kind of wish my body was normal enough to have extra weight to lose.  That often, I wake up hurting so much there are tears in my eyes when I stumble out of bed.

But I still do it.

I get up.

I do stuff.

I volunteer.  Maybe not this year, but for years and years before. 

I will keep getting up.  I will keep volunteering. 

I will keep up at my own pace. 

I will be joyful.

I will be ever, eternally grateful and blessed that we uncovered my illness at a relatively young age, that I did not suffer for years upon years, like my mother and my great-aunt.  

I will be smiling, even when I'm hurting, because I won't let this get me, and because I know it could be worse. 

I will keep finding ways to make it better. 

I will keep hoping for a new normal.

I will take two naps if I need them and not feel guilty. 

I will sing of my mercies and be oh-so-blessed to hold my baby girl.

I now.  




 

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