In recent months I have been attempting to deal with and come to terms with my fibromyalgia. I have not been having much success.
Believe it or not I am a fiercely independent soul who loathes to be at the mercy of anyone else. Hence my frustration and deep dissatisfaction with my current situation.
When I was younger I had dreams and desires and whilst I was never in a hurry to fulfil them I now find that I am, and will be, unable to fulfil them in the future.
The limitations of this chronic condition is made apparent to me each day when the simplest, everyday, task can be an Everest-like hurdle to overcome. I won't ask for help. Call it pride, call it whatever, but I cannot bring myself to admit defeat.
The truly torturous thing about this condition is when I am reminded of what I have wanted to do, what I was once able to do, and what I can probably never do again.
These days it is more a matter of learning to live again within the limitations of my body and mind.
And that feels like death to me.
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