i’ve been thinking a lot lately about how much room we inadvertently take up just by living with chronic illness, and simultaneously we dont take up enough room particularly if we‘re housebound or bedbound.
everyone around me is affected by my illness and the more stressed i get the more everyone else gets stressed, too. the friendships i have left end up with me taking up most of the room simply because they are defined by my own schedule and ability to communicate, and my daily issues that inevitably come up in conversation. family members are under pressure to take me to ongoing appointments or deliver stuff to me when i run out and can’t get it anywhere else. but then at the same time, no one sees me. i can’t really socialise, i can’t get out and enjoy the world. there is so much silence. you wouldn’t even know i existed if i didn’t come online or interact briefly on a rare occasion, and it’s just a lot to hold within you as person to know that you’re too much and not enough at the same time, to know you cause such strain on others for simply existing, to know that you can’t be the person you want to be but if you could you’d do anything to be the opposite and take away that strain instead.
my heart feels incredibly heavy in these moments.
