I moved to this apartment a week ago after my husband and I divorced. We stayed together until we sold our house and the ‘Goodbyes’ were heartbreaking. My husband wanted back the woman he married only seven years ago before two cancers followed by fibro and cfs wrecked our lives.
He looked after me so well when breast cancer was diagnosed just days after our wedding. Then just six months later he did the same when I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer.
I recovered so well from both cancers and we moved house for a new start. Out of the blue fibro appeared and he found it so hard to accept this ‘hidden’ condition. Our relationship deteriorated and the rest is history.
My husband did all our packing and my family moved me into this luxury apartment. My husband rings me daily to see how I am. I have pushed myself beyond the pain and fatigue barriers to do my little bit to try to help.
This morning I called my lovely sister to thank her for her help. She was decorating her Christmas tree, looking after her grandchildren, making mince pies, wrapping gifts.
She asked me how I was. I told her I was exhausted.
‘Tell me about it!’ she said. ‘’I’m tired too. There’s so much to do”.
After I rang off I began to cry and I haven’t stopped since. I feel as though I’ve been run over and someone is standing on my chest to stop me from getting up.
I just wish that I felt like my dear sister. Tired but still able to do those lovely Christmassy things. I’m too tired to eat a mince pie, let alone make one.
When I had cancer, my husband and family tried to stop me doing things when I was quite well able to do them. They told me I had to rest.
The curse of invisible illness is the lack of insight and understanding. It’s worse than the fibro itself. In some perverse way I preferred the cancer. At least the end was in sight, whatever that end might be.
Forgive my self pity. I just can’t find my positive pants today.