I know I have alluded to it before, in my post Wrestling the Black Beast of Depression and Anxiety, but the exhaustion and fatigue I experience can be just as crippling as the mental anguish.
Today was not a very good day. After yesterday’s successes of getting social assistance lined up, I had hoped that today would be good. However, I have spent most of the day in bed, simply because I was so soul-crushing, bone-deep, exhausted. I’m not talking the kind of tired that a nap will help. I am talking the kind of exhaustion that takes all of your energy just to get up and go to the bathroom. So fatigued that making breakfast for myself meant I had to eat and then sleep for 2 hours. Have you ever been THAT tired?
Tonight, at 7pm, I crawled back into bed. Because simply holding my head up was more than I could handle. How sad is that? What’s even sadder is that I just lay there and cried. I cried because as much as I miss Grandma, I’m glad she’s not around to see me like this. And then I cried because I miss her. I cried because I feel like a nobody. A big, fat, nobody.
I am sick and tired of being sick and tired. I want nothing more than to wake up one morning and find that my energy levels are back to normal. That I am my usual perky, optimistic self. That I can function like a normal human being, and have a job and leave the apartment.
But until that day arrives, I have to remember to be kind to myself. To tell myself it’s ok to have good days and bad days. That eventually the good days WILL outnumber the bad.