Met a friend today who I hadn’t seen yet this year. I told her that I’ve been out of my 2-month-crash for a good two weeks. That I’m enjoying any day I get, but that it’s also really stressful to handle the uncertainty around it, not knowing if today could be the last “good” one for a day, a few weeks, or longer — I just never know. When we get after ways, she said, “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
That’s the thing though: I’m not. I’m feeling good right now. But I don’t think I’m actually better, at least I have no way of knowing. The rollercoaster is on an upturn now, but I’m still on the same rollercoaster.
(I find it impossible to say those things even anonymously without couching them in disclaimers: I know how she meant it, I know she meant well, I know she means well for me. I also don’t put too much emphasis on small wording choicest, I know people say stuff that has heavy implications without always thinking it through in all detail, and that’s okay. Etc. etc. etc.
But I also find it frustrating enough to convey this illness and its impact in a way that people understand, never really knowing if it’s a me-problem or they-problem.)