Trying to work out what I've got to tell you that might be the slightest bit interesting, I came across a piece I wrote this time last year but never published.
Reading through this is rather good for me as I've changed so much since then and it really is good to know that my state of mind is much better now.
So here it is, one year ago I wrote...
Another lovely sunny late July morning. Height of summer just before we start sliding down into the cold months. What am I doing? Am I running round getting my chores done so that I can later relax and enjoy the day? Am I planning what next to turn my craft hand to? Am I packing a picnic lunch before heading out with the dogs to somewhere peaceful and quiet on the Moors? No, none of these exciting, wonderful days await me, only another day filled with wracking pain in every joint and even my skin. So I'm faced with another day lying in bed, taking painkillers that will send me to sleep so I can escape the pain for a few hours.
Every morning i wake full of hope that this will be the day I can move freely. Sometimes my hopes are fulfilled but this last week my hopes are shattered, just like my body. I am so sick of this, the pain, the hopelessness, the missing out on lovely days and everything that comes with them.
Is it my fault? Have I created this monster that lives with me day by day? No, it's not a product of my mind, it's very real and very here. There's nothing I can do, no amount of positive thinking cures me nor stops the pain. I'm at the mercy of a monster that lives in and on me, no Knight in shining armour is going to rescue me. This is my life now. I have to live it, have to fill the days when I'm able to function and accept the days I'm not. I hate it, it's not me, my body has turned into something I don't recognise and something I dislike.
And there's nothing I can do but accept it as my lot. Keep taking the pks Deb, and hope for the best.
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