Living

I was trying to explain to someone the other day what living with chronic pain is like. How I am never not in pain. And they were all, "What, like now? You're in pain now?" And seemed so surprised, because I seemed OK. I was sitting there, talking, not flinching or moaning. But, yeah, I was in a lot of pain. Because it never goes away. Every second. Every minute. Every hour. Every day. For years. If I'm lucky, it's below a 4 on the 1 - 10 scale. I'm not normally lucky.

Someone joked with me yesterday, "Yeah, I spent the morning thinking I had Lyme, but I just woke up too early."

They didn't mean anything by it. But I wanted to fucking deck them. Lyme is not like missing out on some sleep. It's a monster that's taken away the life I wanted, ruined my marriage, stolen years of my life, left me in pain and depressed, alone and mostly friendless, and medically disabled. I live in fear of the future because I don't know what I'll be able to do when or for how long. Sometimes I question my decision to stay alive. That is my reality. That is living with pain. That is living with chronic illness.