Lupieliving

It is too hard to get up from bed because I have been tossing and turning all night from the pain, but I do.

It is too hard to walk because my muscles and joints are very stiff, but I do.

It is too hard to sit down on the toilet because I feel dizzy, but I do.

It is too hard to brush my teeth because my mouth hurts too much from multiple open canker sores, but I do. 

It is too hard to bend my head down to wash my face because of the pounding headache, but I do.

It is too hard to make myself coffee because I am too weak, but I do.

It is too hard to eat my toast because I am too nauseous, but I do.

It is too hard to take all my pills because my stomach hurts, but I do.

It is too hard to get dressed because my muscles ache, but I do.

It is too hard to wear my shoes because the nerves causes too much pain, but I do. 

It is too hard to go to my doctor’s appointment because walking is hard, but I do.

It is too hard to fill out all ththe medical forms because concentrating takes ten times the effort than it used to, but I do.

It is too hard to sit and wait for my appointment because of the numbness and tingling in my butt l, but I do.

It is too hard to explain and consult with the doctor because I cannot seem to convey all my symptoms, but I do.

It is too hard to stand and wait for the elevator and car back home because it feels like my head is spinning, but I do.

It is too hard to pick my son up after school because I feel like I have already climbed Mt. Everest, twice, but I do.

It is too hard to wait for my son outside his class because my legs feel like they are going to give out, but I do.

It is too hard to converse with other parents waiting for their kids because I feel like I’m so very sad inside, but I do.

It is too hard to carry my sons backpack because the joints in my fingers are in pain, but I do.

It is too hard for me to ask my son for some time to rest because he hasn’t seen me all day, but I do.

It is too hard for me to make dinner because my body feels like I’m carrying an extra 100 lbs, but I do.

It is too hard for me to hide how hard the day has been for me from my husband, but I do.

It is too hard for me to ask my husband to put our son to bed because I know he had a long day too, but I do.

It is too hard for me to change into my pajamas because my body has difficulty bending, but I do.

It is too hard for me to lie down to sleep because when the room gets silent and the light goes out, my pain gets louder, but I do. 

It is too hard for me to fall asleep because my muscles and bones feel like they are being kicked, punched, raked over, pinched, burned, electrocuted and pricked, but I do.

Then I wake up, even when it is too hard, and repeat the day, over and over again.  And this is a typically “good” day.  Many days, I have extreme fatigue, extreme pain or extreme illnesses thrown into the mix where I cannot even do the little things I set out to do.  When I have vomiting fits, or when I cannot even lift my head from fatigue, or where the pain is so intense that I’ll be coiled on the floor crying in pain. 

And I cry a lot, almost everyday.  Mostly alone.  I fight through each day, but sometimes, it all becomes too much.  This last week, I fell deep into depression and I felt too hopeless to even try to fight it out.  I don’t like staying in this unhappy place but my usual tricks to fuel me isn’t working.  Maybe a little more time…?!?!