And That Is Why I Smell Like Bacon
So, I have been struggling recently.
Being sick sucks. Most of the time I manage to accept the fact that I am sick, that it is permanent, and this is my normal. But sometimes, I don’t.
Then I get frustrated, that even though I do all the stuff I am supposed to do, it doesn’t get any better. I don’t get any better. And the reality of the situation is, I will never get any better. Between the mental illness, the kidney failure, the rheumatoid arthritis: that stuff is all permanent. It can be managed, but it is never going away. I never get to go back to the way my life was before my kidneys failed.
And then it’s like I’m 13 again, and I get all rebellious, and decide that I’m not going to do stuff, especially not the stuff that is currently saving my life. Stupid, but there it is.
See, this acceptance stuff, it’s a process. There is no finish line, just a constant attempt to accept the reality that this is the way my life is and I need to make the best of it. This is my normal.
And mostly my life is good. I have friends, and family, I do fun stuff. Most days, I love my life. Most days, I am happy.
Not at the moment, though. I’m still kind of pissed about the whole being sick thing.
My niece, Eldest, asked me if I was sicker than I was supposed to be. I’m not, I’m just sicker than I want to be. And I need to continue working on being ok with that.
At least until I can replace most of my body parts with cybertronic equivalents.
