I try to stay upbeat & positive. I try to always have hope. Sometimes though, I just can't. Sometimes, I think why bother? Sometimes, I feel overwhelmed and like everything is just too much. I feel that I don't have any quality to my life any more. If I can't work.... if I can't go out and do things, and have friends to do them with.... if I have to struggle week to week....if I have to live every day so tired and exhausted that I sit & cry.... if I have to live every single day in pain.... then what's the point of life become? I'm in too much pain to even keep my house as clean as I'd like it to be, so how could I work? Without working, I'm poor and can't afford to go out and do things I enjoy. Being in pain and being poor has isolated me into my house most of the time, so I don't really have many friends left.
I sit at home alone. I have conversations with myself, inside my head, because there isn't any one else to talk to. I try to maintain the facebook page for this blog, but I'm not really sure how many people even read it (or the blog for that matter). Of the ones who do, how many really give a care what I have to say? I try to remain hopeful, that by writing this blog and having the facebook page, that I may reach people and help to educate on this illness. I try to remain hopeful that someday soon there may be a research breakthrough and my miracle cure will be right around the corner. Is that really hope, or is it living in a fantasy world?
As a younger adult, I've worked 3 part-time jobs while carrying 18 credit hours in college. All while raising four kids at the same time. Part of it as a single mom. I went out and did things with my kids, and with my friends. I always had the money to go do things. I've never liked being alone. I don't know if that stems from being an only child or what, but I've always loved to be in the middle of large crowds of people. I've always been of the mind-set "the more the merrier". Now, I'm alone.
I did a sink of dishes earlier, and I made supper. Nothing fancy. Just a quick, simple, supper. That was a couple hours ago. Now, I'm still sitting here in such pain that it takes my breath when a spasm hits. Hurts constantly, but the spasms are the worst. Sometimes, I'm not brave enough to keep up the fake smile and the fake "It'll all end up ok" bs. Because sometimes, I really just need to cry and try to figure out what the point of my life is, when I have to live it within the constraints of pain and poverty caused by pain. Sometimes, I really just have to wonder what the point of my life really is. All the time? I wonder why this illness even exists.
