Yesterday was a rough day.

I thought I was going to feel better when I woke up, but I ended up feeling just as fuzzy-brained as the previous days; just as exhausted and unfocused.  Being sick sucks.  I mean, it really, really sucks.  There are a million and one metaphors but what I keep thinking about is heading to the surface of deep water – the light and the promise of oxygen.  Right now I feel as though I’m just floating in the mid-water, longing to head to the top but somehow unable.

It makes me think about all my chronically ill friends.  (Can I call them friends if we only know each other on social media?  I suppose … I mean, that’s the world we live in, yes? Everything is online, so little is in person).  Anyway, I feel guilty feeling frustrated with this illness when I know people who are struggling so much more than I am, with no light at the top, no hope of oxygen.  So doesn’t it make my complaining a little absurd (and frankly selfish?).

It’s hard to keep things in perspective when we live in a global community.  When we know things happening in Ukraine in real time.  When with the click of a button, we can be anywhere.  Illness is hard because it inherently makes living more difficult.  And the degrees to which it can do this vary.  But a person struggling at the first rung of the ladder should feel okay feeling bad, even if there are people on the 100th rung who are facing much harder obstacles.  Because it’s all hard.  And it isn’t a race or a competition.

Sort of like life accomplishments.  Y’know?

Anyway.  This illness has just wiped me out.  I’m tired and I can’t sleep.  I’m fidgety and frustrated.  I’m hoping every morning I will wake up feeling on the other side.

Maybe tomorrow.

Xox, g