It’s not fair

I’ve really tried to avoid thinking about what’s fair and what’s not since my original diagnosis back in June. I’m a big enough girl to know that life isn’t fair and whinging about it doesn’t help and doesn’t achieve anything.

But this morning I’ve been hit with a real dose of the blues. I feel very tired and I hate it. I hate feeling washed out and not having my usual get up and go. I hate the fact that two days at work have been so physically challenging. My daily aches and pains are getting to me. And with the physical comes the emotional – it’s just not fair.

I’d like to think that I’m not a bad person. I’d like to think that I do my best in most situations. I’d like to think that I’m a good wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend. I’m not a saint but I’m not a devil either. So why me? What did I do so wrong? It’s just not fair.

Reading this as I’m writing it, I realise I sound petulant. I sound childish. I sound frankly a bit pathetic. I don’t like the way I sound. I’m not proud of being this way. I’m not being rational, or brave or strong or inspirational or any of those other adjectives that people use in their messages to me. And I know that it will pass – this feeling of being hard done by, of being the victim. But just for now, for a little while this morning, I’m giving in to it. I’m allowing myself to feel this way. And then I will get back on my feet and get on with living, because that’s what I want more than anything.


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