It’s been a long time since my last post. Honestly, I didn’t realise how long it had actually been. Part of me was avoiding it—avoiding too many sad posts, too much raw emotion. But does that really matter? These blogs were meant to help me process what’s happening in my life, even when that’s been hard to face. I’ve been trying not to write the same thing over and over again, but sometimes that’s the reality. There’s no schedule to healing or to life. It’s not like I’m due a good week just because I’ve had a tough one. That’s not how the world works.

In the meantime, I’ve been pushing for normalcy, trying to make the most of what I can still do. And honestly, there have been some incredible memories, full of laughter and the people I love. I can’t deny that. Those moments have given me hope, even if they are bittersweet. I’ve tried to focus on the good around me, and I’m so grateful for the unwavering support I have.

But here’s the truth: I am struggling. I’m not okay. I think the reason I haven’t written anything for a while is because I didn’t want to face that. Putting it into words makes it harder to ignore, and that’s what I’ve been doing—ignoring it. It’s becoming increasingly difficult just to get through the day. The simplest tasks, the ones you’d never think twice about, are now monumental challenges for me. And I keep asking myself, how did my life get here?

I even have to admit, I see a psychologist now, and every session seems to end with me breaking down. I can’t list out all the things going wrong in my life because, on the surface, it seems fine. That’s the word I keep using: “fine.” It’s so much easier to just smile and say I’m fine when people ask. But the truth is, I’m far from fine. I’ve gotten used to deflecting, but who really wants to hear about my endless issues? Even I’m tired of talking about it.

The reality? I’m exhausted. I know I’ve said that word a lot in the past, but it’s reached a new level. My body is rebelling against the mountain of medication I take daily. Now I’m vomiting constantly, and the meds don’t stay in my system long enough to help. I tell people I’m managing, but I’m not. Being sick all the time feels disgusting and draining. It feels like my body is giving up on me. The pain just never stops—constant aches, sharp jolts, a heaviness that I can’t shake. Even sleep, something I desperately crave, is a luxury. When I do manage to cry myself to sleep, it doesn’t last long.

I’m still waiting, what feels like forever, to see the specialist pain management team. But in the meantime, I feel like a burden. I see the worry in people’s eyes. Whether it’s holding my hair as I’m sick in the nearest bin, rushing to grab a wheelchair before my legs give out or even the concern I see on faces when I’m getting too cold. I see it everywhere and it’s not fair. I hate being the one people have to worry about when making plans— checking if there are stairs, too much walking or if it’s just not possible for me in my condition. I don’t want to be the problem, but that’s how it feels. No matter what people say, that’s the reality. I am the problem.

I’m not even sure what the point of this post is. There’s no profound message or life lesson here. I guess it’s just me trying to get over this block I’ve been facing, trying to find the courage to write again. I’ve been avoiding processing all of it. And the truth is, I’m scared.

I look back at where I was before I got sick, and it’s hard to remember a time when I wasn’t in pain. I haven’t had a pain-free day in what feels like forever, and I’m scared that I never will again. I used to make plans for the future, telling myself, “I’ll be okay by next year,” only to be met with disappointment. I’m not getting better, and sometimes, it feels like I’m only getting worse. And what if this is it? What if this pain and exhaustion is my life now, forever? That thought terrifies me more than anything else.

This is the part where I’m supposed to say that I’ll keep fighting, that it’ll be okay. But I don’t know if I will be okay, and I can’t even pretend I have the energy to keep fighting if this is how it’s always going to be. I’ll never get used to this. All I can do right now is take one small step at a time, be honest with myself, and remember that I’m not alone in this.