Today I gave up. I let scleroderma win. And it felt good. Sometimes I just don't have any fight in me. Some warrior I am. I don't even have the energy to be angry. And you know what? I don't care. At least for today, I don't care.
Sometimes we need a break and we never get one from Scleroderma but at least we can give ourselves a break from fighting. It's exhausting. Physically, mentally and emotionally exhausting. So today I surrendered and just sat in my recliner all day, staring at the walls, napping, and staring at the walls some more.
It's called depression. I take medication for it but it's still always there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for a chance to jump out and take over mind and body, leaving me in a near catatonic state. I become one with the chair upon which I sit. A piece of furniture. At least for today. Because like depression, optimism and hope are always there too. Lurking in the shadows, waiting for their chance to jump out and strangle depression. At least for a day.
Probably the hardest thing I've had to do in fighting scleroderma, is fight the depression that goes with it. To tell yourself, in your darkest hour, that tomorrow is another day and you won't feel like this forever, takes faith. And my faith comes in knowing that I've been here before and I've survived. Time and time again, I've survived days of despair. And I remember what optimism and hope feel like. Even though they seem so far away right now.
Tomorrow is another day. But for today, I let scleroderma, and depression, win. Because sometimes we need a break from fighting. And it's okay to surrender - to rest your body, mind and spirit - until optimism and hope come out of the shadows to help you fight - and win again.