It’s the constant struggle, isn’t it? Even my healthy friends want to do more than they can in a day. With chronic illness, the struggle is just that much more intensified.
Some days I can’t do anything at all. One day last week all I managed was to change out of my pajamas into a clean set of pajamas around 4pm, to browse Facebook in the morning and to watch tv and movies in the afternoon. Oh, and to eat. That was it.
Other days I do lots. Today I too a walk, went to the gym briefly, answered emails, did a couple random little things at home, wasted too much time online, and did part of my monthly financial review. Not bad! It’s just that I want so badly to do more!
And I never know which days will be which energy levels.
I look at my mother and wish I could keep up with her. She does so much in a day, and I wish I could do the same. I wonder how much I will (or won’t) be able to do when I’m here age?
I see my friends, who manage to do more than me in addition to working full time and raising kids.
It’s not fair to compare. I know that. Of course I know that. But still, it’s hard not to. Because I want to do more! I want to get all of my chores done so that I can do more fun things. I want to do more of the fun things. I’m so tired of doing one fun thing and then being too tired for anything else. I’m trying to make plans with someone this week, and I feel that I can’t see them Wednesday night because I have physical therapy Wednesday afternoon and doing both would be too much. I can’t see them Friday night because I’ve got a meeting Friday afternoon and both would be too much. I want so badly to do 2 things in one day.
So mostly I’m complaining because I’m feeling frustrated today. Because it’s only 3pm and while I’ve done a lot, I want to do more, even as I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. Literally. The sun is shining for the first time all week, and we’re about to get several more days of rain. I want to be outside enjoying it! I want to go out with a friend. I want to clean up my apartment. I want so much but my body has other plans. My body wants to rest. My body isn’t able to do more.
And so I am sitting on the couch, with the laptop on my lap, looking longingly out the window and feeling sorry for myself. It’s not helpful. It’s not productive. But it’s where I’m at. And this blog is called Chronic Rants, after all, so some days I just need to rant a bit.