Staying Strong When You Don’t Evan Have It In You

I’m not well. I am not just talking about today.

It’s hard being in this body. I move slow. Slower than anyone my age should.

My knees hurt. Every step sounds like bubble wrap under my feet.

I fight sleep all day, but if I gave in, I’d be out for the rest of my day.

I wake up weak. My body needs an hour before it works the way it should.

Using the bathroom is a race I lose too often.

Not making it on time crushes me.

I never expected this at 47.

My body does what it wants. Farts slip-out. My butt muscles can’t keep it in and together.

I hope it doesn’t smell. I’m usually in public when it happens. I have to walk away like I didn’t do it.

My weight got out of hand. I am close to diabetes.

I’m also one more lazy night away from gaming and probably getting a heart attack.

The physical stuff hits my mind.

I lost my drive to work out.

I don’t feel the point right now.

I forget things.

I leave the kitchen without what I came for.

I leave water behind even when I need it.

I go through this checklist:

Do you need water

Do you need medication

Are you looking for the cat

Were you hungry

MS spins me into confusion, doubt, and frustration.

You might expect an answer about how I rise above all of this.

I don’t have one. It hurts. It feels unfair.

I never pictured myself like this.

I used to be active. I used to chase things.

Now I sit more than I move.

I feel my world shrinking.

If you’re reading this, I’m okay. But not every day is easy.

I feel everything.

I deal with everything.

Some days hit harder than others.

Giving up sounds simple.

But I work for my kids.

I keep going for them.

Only when they’re set would quitting even cross my mind.

I don’t know what the future holds.

I don’t want to live off disability checks.

I don’t want to add more stress to my family.

I want better.

So I tell myself this:

I will heal.

I will get better.

I will see a different day.

Even when it feels far away, I still say it.