Persisting Pain

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I am careful in my everyday life to plan meticulously enough that I have time to rest in between activities. During holidays and big events I take this so seriously that I have been known amongst friends and family for my rigorous itineraries. But no matter how much I plan, my illnesses will not stick to a schedule, even one specifically planned around them. And that’s when I hear those dreaded three words: “you’re too sick”. I heard these words yesterday from my boyfriend. We were supposed to be visiting the Christmas markets, and this was our last chance as they closed today. We had planned to go two weeks ago, but had ended up rearranging because I was ill. It is a tradition of mine’s to visit the Christmas markets in Glasgow every year, and has been for as long as I can remember. It was an even bigger deal this year because there was a specific stall that I was desperate to visit. It was so important to me that I planned a day before to rest and two days after to rest. Whe

I’m now at the end of a year long challenge to accept my life with chronic illnesses. But just because that year is over and I will move on to new goals in 2019 does not mean that my journey of acceptance is finished. My illnesses are constantly evolving and, in turn, the way that they affect my life will always be changing. Although I am in a much better place now to process my emotions, I do still struggle with it at times. It can be hard to watch others my age doing the things that I want to do, whilst I sit in bed at home. It has gotten to the point where my friends no longer invite me to things because I was always too ill to go in the past. At my age, almost all of the things that people want to do involve heavy drinking, using a lot of energy, or doing a lot of walking around. These are three things that I avoid because of my illnesses. Everything I do has to be carefully planned and must be done in moderation. And these kind of restrictions don’t suit young adults who

I’ve faced a lot of hardships in my life, of all shapes and sizes; I’ve lost people I loved, I’ve been forced into situations that I didn’t want or know how to be in, and I’ve made decisions that felt like the end of the world. But the thing is that they weren’t the end of the world. It might not have been easy, but I got through it and I survived. And then it was over and I could begin to process what I had been through. However, the one thing that I struggled to process, possibly because it is never-ending, is my ill-health. My entire life has been an endless battle of new illnesses, medications and hospital visits. I have lost friends and the future that I spent my childhood planning for myself. I lost my hobbies and my education and, worse than all that, I lost myself. And when my future seemed hopeless and my life seemed useless, I gave up trying. I resigned myself to an empty existence and retreated into my mind, which became a dark and dangerous place. But then some