November is National Health Blog Post Month (#NHBPM). Wego Health is encouraging health bloggers to raise awareness and help others. 30 days, 30 posts. Here I go…
This morning I told my friend Melissa that sometimes I get tired of living. Yes, I know that sounds horrible and that life is a wonderful thing, most of the time. Then I get hit with several chronic conditions, recurrent depression and a whacky endocrine system, and the first I have to do in the morning is feed my thyroid the hormone it refuses to produce, so I can actually function. Then I have to test my blood sugar, figure out what I can eat, try to do good and still see that number raising. Then I have to remember to take my happy pills because everything else goes to the crapper if I don’t. Every muscle in my body hurts, not because I’m a weakling, but because there’s also an auto-immune inflammatory process of unknown cause. It isn’t bad enough to keep me from living, but it exacerbates during the cold months making me wish I could just stay in bed. And that’s just part of it. So yeah, some days I want to either throw the towel or throw a pity party and eat all the ice cream.
And days like this are the reason why I write about my health. When I sit down and put my thoughts into words, it helps me understand what’s going on with me. I stop and think about the choices I made just five minutes ago and how they affect my health. I stop and think that I’m 37 years old, I’ve had type 2 diabetes for 12 years and I’ve actually done my homework because *knock on wood* I’m still alive and kicking, and I have no complications. It makes me realize that I’ve become so acquainted with my depression, that as soon as the early symptoms hit I know what I have to do and I’ve been depression-free for more than over a year. Writing about my health makes me be aware of my needs and responsibilities, but also of my big and small victories.
Mind you, I’m not a model patient, I’ve had really bad bouts, I tend to forget things on purpose. Yes, you can enter periods of denial and it doesn’t matter how long you’ve lived with a condition/illness. So I write, because writing about my health makes my conditions more real, and because it gives me the opportunity to share with others, mostly to tell them that it’s OK not to be perfect, and that we all have bad days. Living with an illness is not easy, so writing is cathartic.