#i cried when i first read that vogue interview with lady gaga tbqh

[saferincages]

I’m too soft for a world this dark. Sometimes I don’t think that I can handle it.

Art and writing by Emily Bourne.

Chronically comics is centering feelings I’ve been experiencing lately towards my chronic pain illness, Fibromyalgia, and the effects it’s having on my physical plus mental health. My first article, ‘But you don’t look sick?’, was the first time I spoke openly about my condition. While it was a liberating and freeing experience for me, vulnerability is scary. So, here I am doing it again - this time, not hiding or downplaying the bad.

*These drawings were created in October/November time of 2018.

[image description: a girl is mailing a letter saying ‘return to sender: my illness, hell, fck you’ into a post box]

I am in pain every moment of everyday. Some days I’m in more pain. Some days I’m in less pain. But I'm always in pain. So remember that next time you want to dismiss my disability.

[image description: a girl sleeping in bed whilst a ghost is stealing energy from her]

I wake up tired, like a ghost has crawled inside my body overnight and stolen all my energy.

[image description: a drawing of a girl sat on the moon with the text: I’m not me anymore.]

It’s not just the pain in every inch of my body. It’s the disabling fatigue. The brain fog. The hopelessness. The depression. The disappointment. The anger. It’s more than ‘just a bit of muscle pain’. My personality has changed. I don’t see friends as much. I’m me, but less.

[image description: the left side of the page is empty and on the right is the text, ‘I feel like I’m drifting.]

I was sitting in the car, about to make my way to school, when the word ‘drifting’ popped into my head. That’s how this feels: like I’m drifting. My mind is barely here - mind fog is something I experience because of my fibromyalgia. My family knows what it’s like: you can tell me something one moment and it will be forgotten in the next.

[image description: a girl sat on a planet with a black background and to other planets in the the background. ‘When you fall ill you don’t expect that it’s never going to go away’ is written around her.]

I’m learning to cope. I’m learning to grieve. Life is different now.

[image description: a girl with tears streaming from her eyes with a broken heart in front of a dark moon.]

Hope feels like it’s gone. My dreams don’t feel attainable anymore.

                   *    *    *

This article will hopefully be informative for people that don’t know much about Fibromyalgia and chronic pain conditions. Below I will leave some useful links:

NHS self help for fibromyalgia

Facebook groups such as Fibromyalgia support, UK Fibro support group and Fibro and invisible illness support group.

Instagram pages for people with chronic pain; drawnpoorlyzine, mychronicpaindiary and sufferingthesilence.

Also I want to say a massive thank you to the people that support me throughout all of the bad stuff. I love you.

Finally I’ll leave you with this quote by Lady GaGa, who also has Fibromyalgia:

“I get so irritated with people who don’t believe fibromyalgia is real. For me, and I think many others, it’s really a cyclone of anxiety, depression, PTSD, trauma, and panic disorder, all of which sends the nervous system into overdrive, and then you have nerve pain as a result.”

***

“People need to be more compassionate. Chronic pain is no joke. And it’s every day waking up not knowing how you’re going to feel.”

@chronicillnessmemes - I hope it’s okay to tag you in this, I thought it might speak to some of your followers as it did to me.

I saw this posted on Suffering the Silence yesterday and wanted to share it here on Tumblr. It is...very real and so indicative of what many of us with fibromyalgia and other chronic illness/pain conditions go through, often invisibly, as our lives fundamentally change and as we experience repeating cycles of grief. This especially struck me: It’s not just the pain in every inch of my body. It’s the disabling fatigue. The brain fog. The hopelessness. The depression. The disappointment. The anger. ...I’m me, but less. I’ve written many times myself about the feeling of disappearing within my own body, about exhaustion and illness and pain making me a living ghost, and this illustrated that existence and the heaviness which goes with it in a simple yet poignant way. I won’t say it’s comforting whenever I see others articulate this, because I wish no one had to suffer it, but there is a power in the empathy and recognition of not being alone in the midst and difficulty of it.