Warning: kind of whiney
I wish I knew where to begin. The truth is I am sick. And I have been for a long time. I know that most of the people who read this know that, but it feels like it is so easy to ignore or avoid. Heck I do that. I pretend I am okay, not in pain, not completely exhausted. And I am getting really tired of opening up to people and those people telling me "me too." No, not you too. I am completely aware that I sound like a 15 year old, (no one understands me) but that is how I feel. I stay in my house until I feel better, no one sees what it looks like. In fact only Christian, my college roommate, and some of my college speech team really get it.
I know that my friends in Atlanta mean well. I know they do, but stop telling me that you hope I get better. Me too, but I am not holding my breath. When doctors talk about fibromyalgia they use words like "manage" or "lifestyle changes." They don't use words like cure, or back to normal. This is my normal. Sitting on the couch on a tuesday thinking about how this is already the second day I have missed this semester, wondering if it will ever come to pass that I call Mr. Carr to let him know I can't make it and he stops believing me. Even my toes are throbbing individually. My symptoms seem to be getting worse, or maybe it is just that I have lost the will to ignore it, to fight it out. How much longer can I do this?
I have looked at the drugs that are out, the risks far out way the potential benefits. What happens when I get pregnant? What happens when we move? Will it wipe me out for a week? How does someone even get on disability? Will it ever come to that? If it did come to that, could I ever get a book deal? Do I have a better chance of hitting the lottery.
I know that my faith tells me to depend on my Lord, to not worry about tomorrow. I agree with that. I know that to be true. I know that God has the power to heal me. I have asked. I know that the Lord wants what is best for me. I cannot figure out how those two things come together.
I know that my friends in Atlanta mean well. I know they do, but stop telling me that you hope I get better. Me too, but I am not holding my breath. When doctors talk about fibromyalgia they use words like "manage" or "lifestyle changes." They don't use words like cure, or back to normal. This is my normal. Sitting on the couch on a tuesday thinking about how this is already the second day I have missed this semester, wondering if it will ever come to pass that I call Mr. Carr to let him know I can't make it and he stops believing me. Even my toes are throbbing individually. My symptoms seem to be getting worse, or maybe it is just that I have lost the will to ignore it, to fight it out. How much longer can I do this?
I have looked at the drugs that are out, the risks far out way the potential benefits. What happens when I get pregnant? What happens when we move? Will it wipe me out for a week? How does someone even get on disability? Will it ever come to that? If it did come to that, could I ever get a book deal? Do I have a better chance of hitting the lottery.
I know that my faith tells me to depend on my Lord, to not worry about tomorrow. I agree with that. I know that to be true. I know that God has the power to heal me. I have asked. I know that the Lord wants what is best for me. I cannot figure out how those two things come together.