Going through a really bad flare. Feels like I’ve been beat all up and down my body and all my joints are seizing up making it near impossible to move. When this happens, all I can do is lay down in bed and try not to move. No position is really comfortable and I often have to reposition from the pain of staying in one spot too long.
I get sad. Real sad. There’s a continuous loop of thoughts that run through my mind as I lay here that go something like this: I hate this. - I’m not even myself anymore, I used to be able to do so many things. - I feel bad for my family. - This is no life at all. - Why am I even here if I have to live this way? - If this is the way it’s going to be forever, what’s the point? - It would be better for me and everyone if I wasn’t here. - I hate this.
Good days are so few and far between the bad ones that most often I overdo it on those days and end up paying for it afterwards. I still can’t get used to the repercussions of the simplest activities costing me so much pain.
Sometimes I will go weeks without getting out of the house. Sometimes days before a shower. This is not because I don’t want to. I want to do so many things! It’s just not up to me anymore. I’m at the mercy of my body and what it is capable/incapable of doing.
I’m scared I will lay here, in these thoughts with this pain and it will one day swallow me whole. And no one will know what it was really like for me.