Disclaimer: This is a personal one. So if you’re visiting my blog to inquire about hiring me for writing, I just want to assure you that I’ve never missed a deadline, even when I’m riddled with physical pain.

I’m at a new stage of chronic illness – acceptance. I’ve been through grief, frustration, confusion, self-pity and anger. I might just be exhausted, but for the sake of my mental health, I needed to reach this point and stay here for a while. Here is my new mantra that’s on the wall by my bed so I see it every morning:

Sometimes I feel like my illness is my third kid and it’s so needy!

It needs pills twice a day and at any given moment, some peppermint oil, an ice pack, a snack a cup of coffee or a nap. God forbid I get too hungry or overtired – it will retaliate with a throbbing pain in my temples.

To stay in this stage, I need to use the tools at my disposal (meds, mindfulness, breath work, cranio-sacral therapy, exercise, rest) often and early to manage my symptoms and adjust my lifestyle accordingly. Part of this is also managing my expectations and redefining what a productive day looks like. I’ve also learned to rate my pain and talk about it on a scale of 1-10 so I can more effectively communicate with my care team to find patterns, rather than just using swear words.

It’s gotten to the point that enough friends and family know I’ve been sick for so long they look at me with a twinge of pity and ask every time they see me “How are you feeling?” I appreciate the gesture, but I hate when they do because it disappoints me having to let them down again with bad news. “Oh you know, I’m fine. I feel kinda crappy all the time still though,” is my polite response. They must think it’s a little crazy that I’m not getting better. Especially for as often as I see a doctor and the amount I spend in care.

In reality, I don’t see a change in symptoms coming until I see a change in my life. Managing the daily needs of a two and four-year-old puts a lot of stress on my nervous system. This might be one of the most difficult seasons of my life. And I pray, and logically expect, that with a change or lifestyle from the kids (more independence, less crying and screaming, better sleep habits) I’ll see my pain decrease.

My chronic migraines are so unpredictable that symptoms change by the hour. Coupled with nausea and anxiety, it only makes it worse when I dwell on. I still cry often to release whatever it is that festers and builds up. Sometimes it’s frustration over things I can’t control. But other times it’s gratitude knowing that people live with far worse conditions and have fewer resources than I do.

I have beautiful, healthy kids and the opportunity to be home with them and guide, care for and cuddle them incessantly. I also feel grateful that I can chose to work on projects that I enjoy. Having a creative outlet in any form right now is crucial to my self worth to offset the monotony of my role as mom/housewife. But it’s hard as hell to keep up being everything to everyone all the time when you feel like shit.

I studied my face yesterday and it looked so lackluster – dark circles like craters recessed under my eyes, cheeks a little wan and overall void of color and life. Physical pain takes a really physical toll, along with mental and emotional. I mean, I guess I’m two years away from being over the hill, so my pageant days are well over, but for someone who takes such good care of herself why do I look and feel so unhealthy?

I’m still searching for some meaning in all this suffering and I hope one day it comes to me so I can write a really great essay/book about it. All great art comes from suffering doesn’t it? But today I am going to pull to it together, put on a little makeup and pretend like everything is okay. Sometimes that’s just what I need to feel normal again