Up and down. Good days and shit days. And I am still trying to understand what's going on with my body and every good day rekindles this little weak remnant of trust in my body and every shit day I am using all my energy to avoid falling back inside this vortex of chaos and fear.
The concept of being chronically ill, of things continuing in this way is so alien to me. I am still refusing to accept that I will not get well again. I have been so lucky all my life, so incredibly lucky and trusting - so naive, so sure that I can handle life's challenges. All of them, of course.
Well? How about this one? And then this thought: Why?
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