Let me just say this upfront: I’m not tired. I’m fatigued. And if you don’t know the difference, lucky you. Really.
Right now, I’m writing this from bed. Not in a “cozy Sunday morning with a latte and a little Netflix” kind of way. No. I’m in bed because my body has straight-up refused to participate in today. Multiple Sclerosis fatigue is not just tiredness; it’s full-body betrayal. It’s like your limbs have turned to concrete and your brain is wrapped in molasses and you’re supposed to keep going like everything’s fine. Spoiler: it’s not.
A doctor once explained it like this: if someone without a chronic illness wants to understand what MS fatigue feels like, they’d need to stay awake and upright for three days straight. Then try to function like a normal human. That’s the starting line.
The Daily Tradeoff: Do Something… or Everything Falls Apart
Lately, I’ve been doing too much. And when I push too hard, I pay. The interest rate on energy debt with MS is brutal. I need rest, like, non-negotiable, stop-the-world rest, but life doesn’t exactly come with a nap button.
I wish I were exaggerating when I say I need a midday nap just to function. But who the fuck has time for that? I’m not a toddler in daycare. I’m a woman with a life and deadlines and a cockroach infestation that’s slowly becoming a B-movie horror plot.
Oh Yeah, Let’s Talk About the Bugs
Because apparently fatigue and hunger weren’t enough, I’ve also got roaches. Big ones. The kind that have been around since the dinosaurs and act like they pay rent.
The foundation in my cottage shifted recently, which basically opened the gates of hell and invited every insect in the area to move in. Ants, roaches, you name it, they’re here. It’s a full-on wildlife convention here at Songbird Cottage. And I am not okay with it.
Last night, I was watching M*A*S*H in bed when Big Pappa Roach decided to take a stroll across my floor. Bugsy took one look, shrugged, and went back to sleep. Thanks for nothing, bro.
Love, Lattes, and Losing It
What I want more than anything right now is for my boyfriend to walk in with a cappuccino in one hand, that warm smile of his on his face, and just hold me for a minute. That kind of hug that smells like roasted coffee and promises you’re not in this alone. But no, he’s at work. And life doesn’t pause for nobody.
So I’ll get up. Slowly. I’ll do what I can. I’ll fight the roach war and do some cleaning. Bugsy will freak out over the mop and attack it. And honestly? I might give up halfway through and let him battle it while I lie back down. He’ll be proud of himself for protecting us, which will give his self-esteem a great boost.
Because this is the reality: MS fatigue isn’t lazy. It’s not optional. It’s not something you can just push through with a good attitude and positive vibes.
But still, I keep going, I try. Because I want to live. I want fruit. I want a clean house. I will not give up and I will conquer this world, one little itty bitty step at a time. And some days, just wanting is enough to get me moving. Kind of.
What about you? Ever felt like your body staged a coup and forgot to notify your plans?
