This is the hard part of chronic illness: going through the same damn issues over and over. The physical ones are bad, but the mental ones are worse; you talk them through, maybe you work them out, if you’re lucky you get a bit of temporary solace, but ultimately nothing changes. Sooner or later, they come around again.
I keep thinking I’ve become better at dealing with my fatigue, and in terms of the practicalities and logistics, I suppose I have. I’m better at avoiding the things that trigger a collapse, and overall I’ve recovered enough to maintain a decent life with a lost weekend or bad week here and there. I'm able to plan for a future that looks far less scary than it did a year ago. Generally, I feel just as lucky as I actually am.
But in terms of the emotional fallout, I don’t think I’ve made much progress at all. The restrictions and the unexpected setbacks and the drudgery of not having enough energy are still emotional water torture. And, after two years, I’m as thoroughly bored with it as I know everyone else is. I don’t want to jump through these same hoops again, thank you very much; if I have to suffer, I want it to be new and interesting, with revelations and insights and maybe, just maybe, some resolution. I want it to be something I can tell people about without watching their eyes glaze over.
(Yep. Just call me Pandora. Of course that's not really what I want; I'll take an illness that's familiar and mostly manageable over some horrible new disease any day of the week, even if on some of those days it's not much fun.)
