The long struggle of blending in.

I’m guilty.  You caught me.
Rather, I caught myself the other day desperately trying to seem normal.  I really am making this an invisible illness…
The other day at work I was saying how tired I was when a coworker told me that they only got 4 hours of sleep and asked me how much I got.  I had to think about it.  Eleven.  Eleven freaking hours.  “I must of gotten too much sleep,” I blurted out after feeling like an idiot. 
Truth is, I’m exhausted all the time.  It has never mattered how much sleep I’ve gotten.  It’s like I forgot that I have fibromyalgia or something.  Maybe my subconscious thought it was just easier to say that without going into a whole conversation about how I actually have a chronic illness and that it’s a miracle when I actually feel awake.
I do have to admit, I would love to feel my age.  Unfortunately I was blessed with the aches and pains of a 60 year old.  I don’t want to throw it in people’s faces, but I keep finding myself dancing around the fact that I have fibromyalgia.
I hate to be in denial, but I want to spread awareness.  How does a 24 year old do such a thing?  Deep down I want there to be something that feels more real be the cause of all this.  It would be much easier if there was a cure for my situation. I want to be a normal, able young adult.  Shit, I’m expected to be such.
Someone stamp CHRONICALLY ILL on my forehead and let’s call it a day.


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