I'm tired. I was driving to my mother's yesterday and heard they'd be counting down the top 20 songs of each year of the entire last decade, and it hit me like a bucket of ice water. I've lost the better part of a decade to my chronic illnesses. And not just any decade, one of the most precious: my twenties.
I was diagnosed in October of 2002. Yup. Over 7 years now. I was 23. At the time, I was still convinced I had the world at my feet. I had no idea how much I was about to lose. My health, my job, and slowly, my identity and independence. I haven't fallen in love since that year. (And this from a girl who had her fair share of falling in and out of it in the few years since discovering it.) I haven't held a job more than 7 months. Worse, my life seems to have regressed so much that although at 23 I felt I was getting old and time was going by too fast for my liking, at 32 I don't feel anywhere near my age and I'm still struggling to remember that I need to look for wedding rings when checking out guys, and that it's perfectly normal for my friends, even my little brother's friends, to be getting married and having children.
Everything I planned and dreamed I would have achieved at this point in my life is so out of my reach it seems like those dreams were from a lifetime ago.
And no matter how much I try and reinvent myself, what I try to concede, or how much I try, I can't seem to get anywhere, and the last few months I've found myself slowly giving up in a million small ways, and I can't decide if it's for the best that I not try so hard, at least right now, or if it is the beginning of the end of me. Either way, I don't really care, because I'm tired of the struggle.
Still, some days, I wake up, and there's a small flame burning deep in my core that gives me life, makes optimism as natural as it once was, and convinces me that everything will be ok, that maybe there is some mysterious path waiting to unravel itself before me.
Sometimes, this lasts for days, sometimes it's just hours before I'm feeling like enough is enough already...and wishing for a way out.
So I'm not going to look back much; I've had worse years, emotionally, but physically, I've never been sicker, and I don't know what's worse; but I'm not feeling quite brave enough to look forward and hope, again, that this year will be better. Instead, I will do my best to live in the moment. And the next. And the next.
Happy New Year everyone.
I'm sorry things are hitting you particularly hard right now. I lost a lot of my 20s to my fatigue. Well, that and denial.
ReplyDeleteThis society is so centered around work, it seems like not working is one of the big demoralizing factors of FM and/or CFS. You can get used to asking people you care about for help. But you dread the question of what you do, when you meet strangers. Are they judging you? Should you justify it? Etc.
I wish I had some words of wisdom for you. I will say that, frankly, I think 30s are better. I still have a lot to deal with, but I feel like I'm coming into my own, if that makes any sense.
Still, it can be hard to see everyone progressing while you feel stalled out. I was lucky and met a great guy, but he has a disability too. So we're having to dig out of debt (mainly medical-related bills) before even thinking about having a kid. Meanwhile, most of our friends are completely able-bodied, earn two incomes and have what seems to us to be a life of endless opportunities. It can be hard to stifle a jealous impulse now and again.
Sometimes I think I ended up with the fatigue because I was so bent on the need to be self-sufficient and never ask for help. Some sort of cosmic irony, you know? It's only in the last four years or so, being with my husband and his family, that I am finding out just how shut off I was, how many walls I'd built around myself.
But, most days, I think it just happened. And it sucks. And that's about the most I can do, except for try to get healthy. (I mainly suffer from a sweet tooth and, therefore, extra weight which doesn't help the fatigue.)
I suppose all this rambling really isn't going to cheer you up. Then again, I get annoyed as hell when I'm in a perfectly understandable funk and people try to "cheer me up" like somehow the problem just isn't a big deal.
I guess I'm just saying that I kind of know where you're coming from. It's hard and it requires a lot of faith (something I'm not terribly good at, incidentally) that there is hope and a point to all this. In the end, I think I just decided to make my own hope and my own point.
Seriously, I feel like if I just keep rambling and typing, eventually something perfect will come along and I can say just the right thing. But there's really no way to end this on a pithy note that isn't annoyingly chipper and myopic. So I guess I'll just reiterate that I'm sorry this is such a bad time (or that you're finally realizing it's a bad time, or however you want to phrase it). Take care of yourself.
Hi Abigail! I think I remember reading your blog as well. Don't worry, you were right on. Right now, having someone just understand and relate is really kind of nice. Ugh, I feel ya on the sweet tooth! The last few months, yummy food seems to be about the only thing that cheers me up, that I can reliably look forward to. which is really bad! I was determined to start exercising again this year, I miss it so much, but it seems to be what crashed me a few months back, my doctor certainly thinks so, and I'm kind of scared...I'm pretty sure the doc would say not to, but...my dad told me I was getting heavy today, so you KNOW it's getting bad, lol. Plus, it really helps my mood, outlook, and stamina... So we shall see... Well, hang in there! I will too :)
ReplyDeleteOh! And that's funny what you said about the self-sufficiency! I was exactly the same way, and feel often like a big (cruel!) cosmic joke is being played on me!
Thanks for your comment! :)
Hi there!
ReplyDeleteI'm Sandra and I've been diagnosed only two years ago. I had this probably all my life. I've never been bedridden and I still lead a more or less normal life. I have a very, very mild case of ME and I am getting better. Do hang in there! I want to say so much, but I don't know where to start. I'll certainly come back later and read more (too tired now, but in my case a healthy person would also be tired now). Take care!