Survivor Blogger: Beaten Not Stirred

I try to convince myself I am winning this battle. Hoping that the labs will turn around as I feel the flare settling in my joints and digging its heels in. As I start to realize that maybe the medicine isn’t working, and the handful of hair I just tossed in the trash means exactly what I think it means.

Remaining positive is hard when your physical world feels poisoned by sickness. It’s even harder when you know that things can get worse.

I went back to work this week. I felt stressed and overwhelmed, not because of the work but because. of the stress of what interaction means. I felt like I was trying to find a good pace in a really thick fog. It’s work, I am happy it’s there to keep me occupied but it is no longer the most important thing in my life. The clarity I hammered my way through in my three months off drove me to that conclusion.

My body is telling me something totally different. I hung my pictures, rearranged my things, got settled. Something uproarious is happening but not in a good way, in this eerie keep testing me kinda way.

I feel beaten, unfortunately the warrior in me hasn’t been around for quite some time. I miss her and wonder where she might be because she’s late to the party at this point. She hid behind my eyes for so long and now it really feels like letting it beat me is the only option.

Tired is the only real way to explain it because there are so many versions of the word and they all ring true.

I am physically tired because it’s a symptom of the disease. I am emotionally tired because I feel broken like a vase haphazardly glued together, like I could cry for days and there would never be enough tears. I am mentally exhausted from fighting to not only concentrate, but to maintain day to day interactions. I feel like my response is always a bit too dead, hollow like an echo hollering back from inside a well.

This is always a struggle. For the last year, everyday has felt like some sort of struggle. There are days when my emotions get the best of me and days when I have the energy to fight back and reclaim my time, as it has been so famously exclaimed.

I have never been more tired. Sometimes my soul aches with the weight it feels it has to carry. I know there is burden in every life but sometimes I wonder, and believe, that some receive a greater helping of burden than others. Why? Who knows, I have no theories or educated conclusions I can jump to without getting to a dark place which somehow makes this my fault.

I’m trying my hardest to just let it stir me, no matter how bad it wants to beat me. If it was meant to it would have this summer. This fall or last year or another day.

I feel like as much as it would love for it to be my time, it just might not be. Maybe this is a calm before another storm, maybe it’s not. Maybe this is the way my test goes, and I’m meant to crawl before I walk.

All I want to do is run.

And not have to worry about being beaten or stirred.

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