I’ve lost the trail in the forest and it’s getting cold. I know where the trail is but as I wander through the woods, tripping over fallen logs, wading through dead leaves, I wonder when I will find my way again.
Things are still difficult for me both physically and mentally. I am so grateful for the support and love from my husband and mother. Having pets to care for keep me getting out of bed and moving each day, however aimless it seems. Love and dependence keep me going.
It is sometimes difficult to separate the pain and fog of chronic illness from the inertia and cloudiness of depression. Yet I know that sadness has crept into my life as I cannot focus or motivate. As I try new medications to ease the pain and other symptoms (some are actually working), I wonder if the new chemicals in my body are causing my inability to move forward in life though my doctor assures me this is not the case.
The intellect in me knows getting depressed is normal when coping with chronic illness but it is new for me. I’m a fighter not a quitter. I buck the norm and dare to be different. I thrive on adventure.
I can navigate my way back on the trail but wonder how long it will take me to get there.