As I sit here, crying…

I wonder how this illness makes so little sense.

I wonder how it’s possible for something to be so insidious and unpredictable.

I wonder why.
Why do so many have to suffer like this.
Why can’t I just pull myself together.
Why this thing is so hard to beat, or even to live with in relative harmony.
Why I’m fortunate enough to have an amazing support network when there are so many less fortunate. 

I am full of fear and sadness and regret. I’m confused and lost. I’m broken and scared. I’m weak and pathetic. I’m worthless and hopeless.
I am so many things but for some reason others do not see me the way that I do…does that make me a liar, too? An accidental actor? Am I fooling everyone? Or is this illness so cunning and powerful that it’s lying to me about my very being?

I just wish I understood. It feels so much harder when I can’t even wrap my head around what’s going on, especially when I want to help others do the same. It feels impossible when all I can do is sit, paralysed, tears pouring, feeling like I’m letting the world and everyone in it down. It feels insurmountable when I’m sat here willing myself to just go and get myself a drink, or have a shower, or put some clothes on but the will of the illness is stronger than my own.

So I just sit here, crying.

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