I hope this doesn’t seem too extreme. You know how we’ve been through a lot in life and have considered giving it up, yet struggled on to find a better place. Physical illness is a literal pain, and it is wearing and tiring. I’ve been experiencing a bit of my own seemingly chronic issues over the winter with both skin and stomach problems that have been going on and on and on. No one seems to know what they are, and so I think about having to live with them forever.
When I think I about that, I remember how I felt when I was totally depressed and unbelieving that I could take any more of it. I did my bad penny act, and hung around and hung around, and eventually, things did get better. I feel, now, that if I could hold up to that, then this physical stuff is a piece of cake. My tired, aching body is nothing compared to what was going on inside my head and the despair I felt.
Somehow, it helps, knowing I’ve fought it off before—especially something that was much worse. I don’t want to deal with this skin stuff, but I don’t have a choice. And there are good days that make me hopeful. And even if not, it still seems endurable, and so I will endure. It has been a lot worse for me.
Today, actually, I’m feeling better with my stomach issues. A little bit better. Maybe my skin will follow. I’m hopeful.