My morning started like most others. Slowly and painfully. I slowly try to brace myself and prepare myself for the day ahead. Meds. Stretches. Shower. Dress. Hope. 

Only today is one of those days where by the time it was midday I was writhing in bone breaking pain and muscle burning agony. 

It happens often but I never know when it will strike and how long I will be placed in this dreadful limbo. That’s the painful part. The annoying part. The heartbreaking part. I can NEVER know what will happen next. 

In an attempt to have some control I try to eat well. Exercise when and how I can. Take my Meds. Read my affirmations. Stretch. Think of others. Tell myself to “get on with it”… But it doesn’t change what happens next. And it never will. 

This month it could be fatigue, spasms, migraines and bowel pain at the top of the list. The long list of challenges my husband and I know so well. Sometimes new things are added to the catalogue but none have been taken off. 

Next month it may be vision, tremors and breathing problems. Or it may all be at the same time. 

I desperately want to give myself more stability and, even more than that, I want to give Hubby and loved ones more than that. More of me. But I can’t even give ME more of me, and that’s just the way it goes. 

I have become the master of sending a text message or social media message whilst in the midst of horrendous pain because I want THEM to know how much they are loved; even when I can’t show them physically. 

I have become very good at looking at Pinterest so my sobbing doesn’t wake up my husband who has been awake most of the night with me. 

I have become an expert at trying to distract myself by trying to create useful pages for other fighters, and those with their own set of physical challenges. 

I can become a master of so many things, but not the master of my own body and these terrible diseases… And that’s the hardest part of all for me. 

My morning has turned into a day of pain and tears, even as I write this piece, and I have no idea where tomorrow will take me or do to me physically… And that is something that only another Autoimmune can truly understand. 

And I am sadly grateful that you do. 

Gentle hugs, 

Trish.