You know how sometimes if someone asks you how you’re doing it’s just easier to lie, and say that you’re fine even if you’re not because you aren’t sure you have the energy or fight left in you to be truthful and reach out for the help that you know they can offer you?
I’m not so fine right now. In fact, in the realm of coping, barely, isn’t a word that springs to mind. Not, is pretty accurate.
All the tests. The food diaries. The worrying. The stress. The blood tests. The referrals.The knowledge that finally someone has listened and that we are right – something is wrong.
The knowledge that something is wrong.
Not knowing what it is, but that something is wrong.
So if you see me in the street, and you ask me how I’m doing. I’ll lie. I’ll tell you I’m doing ok. But the truth is I’m falling to pieces and the waiting game, to find out the what’s, and the how to fix it’s are killing me.
I can feel depression sliding in again.
No, I’m not OK.