Frustration.
I've been uncomfortable and in pain ever since I got CFS, but this past week has been awful. It seems like every day my whole body is covered in flu-like aches and pains. Every muscle and joint cries out for attention. No amount of bed rest, pillow rearranging, hot baths or ibuprofen seems to help. I broke down crying tonight from just the steady, consistent pain every single day. I'm starting to consider taking marijuana even though I've never done any drugs in my life, never even smoked a cigarette, and it's illegal in my country, and I can't even afford it.
It's funny how when the emotional toll starts to lessen a little, the physical side of things gets so bad that you have to deal with that sort of frustration.
It's times like this that I think those bad thoughts. Oh you know the ones - the thoughts of "why did this happen to me and not some other crappy people I know" or "Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and be cured"
I mean, I've gotten a bit better this year, but recovery still seems so far away. Maybe I could deal with the low energy if it wasn't for the pain, the pain, the pain, the pain every single day.
All I can do is listen to Marcy Playground's "A Cloak of Elvenkind" and drink my double gin and tonic and cry. Maybe once a month I let it out. The physical pain just seems so much harder to deal with than the emotional, because there's so little I can do.
I've been uncomfortable and in pain ever since I got CFS, but this past week has been awful. It seems like every day my whole body is covered in flu-like aches and pains. Every muscle and joint cries out for attention. No amount of bed rest, pillow rearranging, hot baths or ibuprofen seems to help. I broke down crying tonight from just the steady, consistent pain every single day. I'm starting to consider taking marijuana even though I've never done any drugs in my life, never even smoked a cigarette, and it's illegal in my country, and I can't even afford it.
It's funny how when the emotional toll starts to lessen a little, the physical side of things gets so bad that you have to deal with that sort of frustration.
It's times like this that I think those bad thoughts. Oh you know the ones - the thoughts of "why did this happen to me and not some other crappy people I know" or "Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and be cured"
I mean, I've gotten a bit better this year, but recovery still seems so far away. Maybe I could deal with the low energy if it wasn't for the pain, the pain, the pain, the pain every single day.
All I can do is listen to Marcy Playground's "A Cloak of Elvenkind" and drink my double gin and tonic and cry. Maybe once a month I let it out. The physical pain just seems so much harder to deal with than the emotional, because there's so little I can do.
