A year ago today, I folded towels. This was the first real act of any kind of work I'd done since I started the hellblood. This is one of those days I DO remember, because it was really damned awful. Folding the towels seemed to go on and on and on. I was out of breath and shaky during most of it. I had to take several breaks and just let myself rest. When I finished, I had to deal with another long bout of bleeding/clotting. It was a strange bleed and probably one of the last ones I had. Still, it was pretty awful. By the end of the blog post, I was fairly certain the Depo shot was a failure.
Contrast that with me folding towels last week. It took about 10 minutes and I put them away myself. It really wasn't anything, just a minor activity in my day.
My roommate, who is HIV+, has talked a lot about how fatigue is one of the most difficult things to learn to live with. HIV+ people have days when they feel like they always did, and then days when it's difficult to even get out of bed. Of course, this isn't the only condition that causes fatigue. Many people live with this on a daily basis.
And in retrospect, I can say that being exhausted WAS the hardest part of what happened last year. Fatigue is worse than pain, worse than fear, worse than anything because it makes all of the other bad things so much more difficult to handle. I felt like everything inside me was crumbling. I worried I would never gain it back.
I did though, and then some. Strength is my goal and my asset. I'm glad I have a chance to grow into a stronger version of myself. Having lost what little strength I did have, I know the value of it. As scary as that time was, learning the value of my own strength was a good lesson.
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