Every morning I wake up, I wake to a different type of pain. I am not complaining, I am not being a baby, I am speaking the truth. This isn’t pain that goes away on it’s own, nor is it pain that goes away at all. It is pain that hides inside my body, waiting for a reason to attack. It sits and waits, teasing my with general discomfort until the moment it decides to cripple me. This could be during an attempt to stand up, to shift positions while sitting, taking a walk, or just daily tasks that every working mother has to do. Everything I do involves discomfort and/or pain at all time.
I don’t expect people to treat me any differently than they would anyone else, but I do need people to understand. In general everyone has their own personal limitations, mine just happen to be from a chronic illness. I am not a hypochondriac, I am not an attention whore; I am sick. I am sick, yet I get up and go to work every day. I am sick, yet I support three children on my own. No, I am not always beautiful, I am not always perfect, and my house is almost always in wrecks, but do you know what? That is ok.
Today was a good day until about 4pm, and it abruptly changed. Now I am in severe pain, waiting for the pain killers to kick in, sitting on my couch. I just want to be held, rubbed, and comforted. I just want the pain to go away, but it’s not going to. This is my life. This is what I am now.
Tonight I rest. Tomorrow I take it from the beginning. I CAN DO THIS!