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Today is not a good day.
Today, my pain level is high.
Today, I’m exhausted.
Today, I’m recovering from the pain that kept me awake crying, writhing, and on the edge of vomiting all night.
Today, I won’t be able to do much.
Today, I’ll be in bed.
Today, my son will make his own meals and have extra video game time, and I’ll feel guilty that I’m not a better mother for him.
Today, I’ll be drinking only broth and water because it’s all I can hold down.
Today, I won’t shower.
Today, I won’t respond to calls or texts or emails.
Today, I won’t scroll social media.
Today, I’ll dictate into my phone because I won’t be able to sit up long enough to write.
Today, I’ll watch TV and listen to audiobooks if I can handle the noise.
Today, I’ll want to sleep, but it will only come in small 20-minute increments.
Today, I’ll feel despondent and dispirited that I’m in this place yet again.
Today, I’ll have a panic attack because I’ll think it’s never going to end.
Today, I’ll try to remind myself that this is a rest day.
Today, I’ll try to remind myself that this is self-care.
Today, I’ll try to remind myself that this is the nature of the disease, not my fault.
Today, I’ll try to remind myself that it’s just temporary.
Today, I’ll try to remind myself over and over that it’s just a bad day, not a bad life.
Today is not a good day.
That’s okay.
I’ll try again tomorrow.
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