Wasted Days…

Some days are hard, others are harder. Some days are so hard I consider them wasted.

I normally know when it’s going to be a wasted day, when I wake up feeling like every single nerve in my body is on fire and everything aches so much that I would honestly believe you if you told me I’d been hit by a bus. These are the days that I never make it out of bed.

My internal monologue likes to taunt me with a running commentary of all the things that I have had to miss; from birthday parties to school plays, family weddings to walks in the park, and everything else in between. It tells me that I am weak.

But I’m not.

Have you ever heard that saying about losing the battle, but winning the war? That’s what chronic illness and pain is; each day is a battle, sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. But no matter what I will fight that same battle tomorrow, and the day after that.

I will keep fighting and that is why I know I will win the war.


2 thoughts on “Wasted Days…

  1. They’re not wasted my dear. Those days we feel guilty about are the most important days of all. They’re the days we’re executing some self-care and listening to our bodies. Recouping some spoons, taking the meds, upping our painkillers so that we can carry on and bounce back the way that we are forced to.

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