It doesn't really matter who I am. Chronic Fatigue Syndrome doesn't care about who it hurts. I didn't get it because I have brown hair, or because I'm 16 and female. I didn't get it because I could have had a really great life, I didn't get it because I showed promise, or because I'm a caring person.
I don't know why I got it.
I do know that I never understood the word "sick". I understood a cold and the flu and even chicken pox. I had even whispered "cancer", but I never understood to my core what the scary word "sick" really meant.
Let me tell you what I have learned about being sick.
Being sick means that every dream I ever had about living the so-called normal teenage life was brutally taken from me when I learned I had Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Being sick means that I never leave the house, and often, too often, I feel to sick to call my friends, write them, or talk to them. It means that at 16 I've never been kissed, even though I'm very outgoing and have dreamed of my first kiss since I was 11. I've never even been out with a guy!
Because I'm rarely able to leave the house I can hardly remember what the mall looks like, and that used to be my favorite hang-out spot. Because at the mall, any mall, I could walk the hard floors hearing the echoing "clomp clomp" of my new clogs and admire the bright signs and drool over clothes I would never be able to afford. In the mall I could break my short lived diets and snack on ice-cream and soda. I could see all my friends from school and dress up so that maybe older guys would notice me.
I'm sick, so I don't do that anymore.
Because I'm sick I get lonely. I forget the soft, lilac scent of my best friend and the once familiar curve of her hand as she held me, loved me, wiped tears from my eyes. On my rare visits to the outside world I am forced to realize that the people I remember who used to laugh with me, now laugh with other people. There is something better out there and they forgot me a little. They live for the living and my half-life bores them.
Because I'm sick I have to look through scrap books to remember what it was like to be young. Sometimes when I go through all my memories I want to live, just to be happy again. Sometimes, the bad times, I will cry and cry because I'm so sad.
Don't get me wrong, I AM happy a lot. I can have entire conversations without mentioning Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and I can live days where I feel lucky.
Still, every single day I wake up knowing I could be better if I was well.
Being sick is hard. No one understands and some people don't believe me. I never asked for this. I never asked for pain and illness. I never wanted to be afraid that I'll never be well, or maybe worse, I will get well and have to live my entire life knowing I never had those years of freedom and pure joy where all I had to do was enjoy life. I never wanted to be the 'someone else' bad things happen to.
I used to live days without being sad. And even if I was sad it couldn't break through the strong belief that was the so very blessed and so very lucky. Even for my faults I was beautiful. Inside and out.
But I'm sick, so I don't do that anymore |
