My stomach can't be in a cast of any sorts, my joints aren't shooting shards out at people on cold days, and very few people even notice the way my face gets pale or my eyes lose their color on bad days...
One recent explanation that my mom randomly used when explaining how I am doing overall is one that I actually really liked.
One of her friends asked the age-old question:
"How is Karissa doing?"
This question is always tough to answer. I am living, I enjoy my life, I enjoy my days, I manage really well, I am always finding new ways to cope and try and get stronger, and I am not actually in the hospital, so I am "fine" really... But saying that I am "doing alright" or "okay" or "just fine" isn't really accurate either. So my mom's response was:
"She's fine overall, but has been beaten up by her illness."
That's such a great way to put it! Even on my really great days where I am not using a cane OR a walker and I can cook and sing and clean and walk my dog... I still feel exhausted and 'like I have been hit by a train' (which is a common way of describing how someone feels when he/she has caught a flu bug or is horribly hungover).
I feel beaten up. I feel like even when I get up, I have to keep fighting and keep pushing, and when I think I am down with a knockout, I still get up at the last second of the countdown and keep going - with that feeling of constantly depleting energy.
Ding dong ding! Still in the ring! I don't know how many rounds I have left to go, but my breaks for water/rest; my moments of relief and recuperation - are dwindling and never seem to be enough to get back the energy that I need to keep fighting.
In the ring with chronic illness.
I know that I can never win - but I won't let it win either. So we are in this constant boxing match (okay maybe MMA - some of these hits HAVE to metaphorically be elbows or hammer fists or kicks to the head)....
Ding ding ding!
Let's go!
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