Hooray. I'm not dead.
Only mostly dead. (You only think I'm kidding.)
"Spoons" are a chronic illness measurement of energy. Look up the Spoon Theory for further explanation.
Seven AM, the usual morning line-up:
Lay there some more, then try to get out of bed.
Brush your teeth, then slowly get dressed and mutter,
"Crap, I've used half my spoons, how will I do the rest?"
So you start to drag yourself all through the day;
You should be resting, but you have to work and play.
Even if you just do these things inside your home,
Stuck in the same place you've always been!
Then after lunch, you may feel up to Netflix,
Haven't touched those projects that you love!
Maybe in a few days you can try it…
But there's also the work you've barely begun!
You need to ask for time 'cause you've got all yet none,
But the last time you tried that you were merely shunned,
'Cause you are young and it must be your own fault that
You're in the same place you've always been!
And you keep wondering,
And wondering,
And wondering,
And wondering,
"When will my life begin?"
Tomorrow night, your friends will have fun,
Just like they do whether cloudy or sun.
What is it like out there where they go?
Even with pacing, your body says "no"…
I'm not officially back. Those waiting on my Cars stories will have to wait a long while yet. Sorry, I don't like it, either.
Here, have a hobbit! :)
Don't be afraid to ask me anything about chronic illness/spoonieland 'cause I'm not shy.