Dear Chronic Illness:

I was mad at you today.

Mad because we’re in a global pandemic and you’re giving me pain.
Tugging on my shirt reminding me you’re still here.

Mad because in the midst of all of this, you’ve cropped back up and you are hurting me so much that now I might be on my way to the hospital again soon.

Mad that now I might just have to get into the thick of it because you refuse to leave me.  I might have to expose this already stressed immune system to the outside world of the hospital to see my doctor.

All day, every day, you’re here- and I haven’t had a break.

I’ve been mad a lot lately.

Normal really, considering the crisis and all.

Truth be told, you’ve broken my spirit a couple of times.

As if I didn’t have to worry about finances, and face masks, and hand washing and crushing loneliness… now I’m worried about another surgery.

Can’t you just cut me a break?

Yes, I gave in and nursed a couple glasses of wine last week.  Yes, my yoga studio has closed.  No, I haven’t had any physical touch or even meaningful conversation with another human face to face in two months.

I skipped my vegetables for days on end.

I know why you’re here but seriously, this is like the worst time ever, so do you think you could just go back and give me a few days to feel okay again?

It would be a lot better.

You can come back, if you must, just not right now.

I just need some space to catch my breath again before we can talk.

Dear Chronic Illness, I caught myself cursing your name today. I caught myself wishing you would just go.

“Why me?” I said.

You’re going to have to forgive me. The same way I am trying to forgive you.

I know why you popped in on me again. I know things haven’t been so great.

Instead of shutting the door in your face today, I think maybe I will just invite you in.

Sit with me.

Remind me of my strength as I sit with you, too.

I will listen to you tell me all the things you need before you leave.

I am not sure I can give you all of them right now.

I’m not so sure I can put my best foot forward every day when the current state of the world sometimes feels so disempowering.

I’m not sure I can eat my veggies and drink my water and reduce my stress and process my trauma.

I don’t know that I can do it.  Not right now.

Not when just getting through the day feels like too much.

When chronic pain, on top of everything else, nearly topples me over the edge.

I feel like as the days go on I may have more trauma piled up to unload before we’re done here.

But now that you’re here…and it seems like you’re settling in just fine in my home…

In this body of mine…

I can hear you out.

You can teach me.

I will let you teach me.

I will listen to you and allow myself to heal.

I have the time.