A brief break in time
It’s still a crazy phenomenon to be classed as chronically ill at nineteen. Never would I have thought that I would need to plan days a head for activities so I can rest and make sure I have enough energy to actually do what I want. Five years ago I was the person who was constantly moving. A leg would be bouncing or I would be running. Now, it’s a stark contrast. A planned weekend in Melbourne was something that was a little daunting, but exciting nonetheless. There was a constant thought in the back of my head of what to do if something was to happen, like an intense headache, or a day where I was so exhausted I couldn’t get out of bed. But, that didn’t happen. I’m extremely lucky to have a best friend who understands my health. She’s seen me when I can’t move, when I’ve gone pale and almost thrown up in Kmart, and she’s sat by me in hospital so I wouldn’t be alone. Knowing that she wouldn’t be annoyed helped ease the worry. Our second day in Melbourne was my worst. I don’t know