After two good weeks of health I woke up today and felt terrible. During these past two weeks I’d started to think about making some plans, maybe seeing a few friends and going a few places. Today has reminded me why I don’t make plans.
The problem is this – once you have made a plan, there are only three possible outcomes. Firstly, you feel fine on the day and you go along and have a lovely time and everyone’s happy and the world is all shiny and new.
Secondly, you don’t feel fine on the day and you cancel. People get tired of this pretty quickly and stop asking you to go places, or they think that you are lazy and boring and malingering and weak.
Thirdly, and perhaps worst of all, you don’t feel fine on the day and you go anyway. Once you are there you can’t say you feel sick because people stay home when they feel sick, so you have to pretend that you are fine.
If there’s anything more exhausting, more depressing, more generally bloody awful than sitting in a room full of happy people pretending you are happy too, I don’t what on earth it might be.
Hell is other people while your stomach is trying to die.
OMG! thank you for this post. I never thought anyone could put this into words SO well!!!!!!!!!!! I could never even think of that on my own. It is exactly what I go through.