In 2012 I started this blog and in doing so I had made the decision to share my journey through chronic illness with whoever came across it I the Internet. 

So I will share all of it with you; the good the bad and the ugly.
Yesterday was hard. It was perhaps only the 3rd time in almost 6 years that I have thrown in the towel. I’m not even sure you can throw in the towel when you’re chronically ill. There is no escape. 
But I think I meant that I would give up the tablets. Give up the rehabilitation. Stay in bed all day through choice rather than necessity. I wondered what the point was; what was the point in prescriptions that only alleviate certain symptoms a tiny bit. What was the point of getting up when I had nothing to do and nothing I was able to do without suffering for it… 
I went back to bed to rest because I felt poorly and then suddenly I couldn’t help but wonder what the point of my life was. I closed my eyes to try to sleep – something I have not allowed myself to do for years after working tirelessly to correct my broken sleep cycle. Even if I’m hit by nights of insomnia I don’t catch up on sleep the next day. Waking up after sleeping in the day makes me feel very, very ill. But yesterday I didn’t care. So what if I slept during the day and undid all that work? So what if I woke up feeling worse? I could just go right back to sleep again because I had no reason to get up. 
I cried a lot yesterday. Properly cried. My soul felt broken somehow, as if the years of finding the good in such a bad situation had taken its toll. I was done. I wanted to run away from it all – give those closest to me a happier life by not having to look after me anymore. I shut down on myself. Completely. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to ask for help, didn’t want to see anyone. 
But there is something within me that won’t let me completely give up. It’s as if my auto pilot function is set to remain hopeful and strong and calm.
I didn’t sleep – I couldn’t shake the knowledge that I’d be so disappointed in myself if I did. So I got back up when I was physically able to. I had a shower. I washed my hair. I put on clean pyjamas. 
I find my own positivity and outlook infuriating sometimes. I just cannot seem to give up on myself. Even on those three, rare days when I have wanted to give up I have somehow managed to cling on. For that I am incredibly lucky. 
It is only natural that a person in my situation should have days like yesterday. How I don’t have them more often is beyond me. 
And yet I have to do it all again today. And then tomorrow. And then the next day. 

Published by Anna Redshaw

Blogging about life in the slow lane with an invisible, chronic illness. I wasn't always a sick chick so this is somewhat of a life changing experience!

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