​I have found I am not particularly good at a formal voice, not even the semi formal editorial voice many bloggers use. I seem only to write about the raw scraping of my emotional landscape. So it goes. 

Lately I feel more like a shadow than a whole person. I’ve been knocking around in this room, rarely ever to leave, always in moderate pain and discomfort, watching other folks live their lives and trying not to be a sad sack, or become to bitter.
Sometimes, when my health is “better”, when I am only exhausted, weak and able to just barely avoid an active flare up by doing almost nothing. I get to thinking I am only being weak or lazy, giving up because that is the non coping mechanism I was taught as a child. When that happens I start making plans, about how I am going to ease myself back into having some sort of life. 

*maybe if I make this medication and do this thing, and am really careful, maybe I can go do this thing briefly once a week. Then maybe I could do that other thing occasionally as well.* 

Then all my plans come crashing down on me when a couple triggers overlap on a bad weather day when I have to run an errand I can’t get out of. Suddenly I am not responding well to my emergency medication. 

*if I get any worse I will go to the hospital maybe…if I don’t get better in ten minutes or twenty*

And I am reminded, that nothing comes easily for me anymore. There is no light side, no being easy on myself until I am better. There is only the being easy on myself so I don’t get worse or pushing myself and getting worse. 

It is such a simple concept and one I seem to have to remind myself of endlessly. Leaving myself with nerves jangling, fingers restlessly tap tap tapping, questing for some fulfilment. Needing some sort of definition of self outside of mom life so that I may better meet all the needs that must be met of those small people in my charge. 

But how do I do that from this tiny little chronic illness bubble? 

My mystery for the ages


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