When is enough, really enough?

When I read this, I almost felt as though I had written it myself, or if it had been transcribed from my own thoughts. I believe almost every person suffering from an invisible, unmanageable, chronic illness has felt this way at some point. It shouldn’t have to be this way and, in a both comforting and tragic reality, we are not alone.

Indisposed and Undiagnosed

I’m having a rough month.
It could go well into two or three months.
I have tried everything, everything.
I feel like I’m back to square one with the symptoms that haunted me at the beginning.
I visited my Gastroenterologist, after his month vacation, and told him that I’ve lost the five kilograms I put on, am in excruciating stomach pain, have constant nausea and am not responding to any medication.

I am tired.
I am tired of going backwards.
I am tired of telling him that I’ve gone backwards.
I am tired of explaining to people why I am “still sick”.
I am tired of being the guinea pig for a range of medications that are not making me feel any better.
I am tired of being told that I have this stomach disease, but am unable to manage it.
I am tired of my body being so fragile.

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