Take My Fatigue — Please!
There are many things that I deal with as a patient with multiple chronic illnesses — chronic pain, muscle aches, stiffness, mobility issues, allodynia…
The part I hate most is the fatigue.
To quote a medication commercial,
“Before fibromyalgia, I was on the go. I kept on top of things. I was a doer.”
Regardless of my fibromyalgia, I still accomplish a ton of things.
The fatigue is what does me in, though.
My brain cannot focus on things. My body doesn’t want to cooperate. I can’t be me.
In the meantime, I have started on a medication that actually controls my Systemic JA. This means that many of my symptoms have improved dramatically.
For the first time in a long while, I was able to be more articulate and live in the moment. Lifting much of that brain fog led to a productivity level that I hadn’t seen… at least since high school, if at all.
When my fatigue returns, that brain fog comes back. My anxiety and post-traumatic stress try to tell me that this will last forever.
I know it won’t. A few days later usually sees me back to normal.
But those days full of fatigue and brain fog are hard to endure.
Before the fatigue hit this week, I was doing well. Yesterday, my birthday, was one of the most productive days I’ve had at work in a long time. At night, the only thing I did was go to dinner with the hubby and play with our guinea pigs.
I can’t help but feel as though I borrowed spoons from today to do all that at work, though.
If I have to go home early from work today, was that extra productivity yesterday worth it? If I have to fight like hell to stay awake at work, was it worth it?
I don’t think it was, not when I seem to miss at least part of a day each week of work.
Self-care isn’t easy.
It requires a certain amount of self-love, self-respect, and integrity.
I’m usually really good at nailing my need to rest, but my fatigue makes me wonder how much of that feeling is a ruse to keep myself going.
When I’m not battling heavy fatigue, I work my ass off. I run three websites, freelance write for a handful of others, work on initiatives to create support systems, and listen to Hamilton nearly non-stop.
Like Hamilton, I write like I’m running out of time.
I know the fatigue will hit me and I will be unable to help others.
My fatigue stops me from doing what I love the most.
If you’re looking for a reason to be tired, I’m willing to trade it for cupcakes, pain relief, or the presidency.