Something happened a few weeks ago that I haven’t told anyone about. 

Until now.

A few Saturdays ago, I came in from watering the plants on our back patio. (Just to paint the picture — we don’t have a hose out back. Watering the plants requires multiple trips in and out of the house, filling up two watering cans in our kitchen, carrying them outside, back in the house for refills, and so it goes.)

I came back inside after I had watered the last of the plants, and thought to myself, “I feel awful and I haven’t even done anything.”

But what happened next was not part of my usual pattern. Because immediately after that thought, a new thought entered my mind.

“That’s not true. I’ve done a lot.”

And as I put the yellow/green watering can on top of the refrigerator and the smaller, red watering can on the shelf near the refrigerator, I started mentally listing all I had done in the few hours I’d been awake.

Made the bed.

Made breakfast for myself and my son.

Emptied the dishwasher, with my husband’s help.

Got dressed. 

Shredded papers and old bills.

Took out the trash and recycling.

Swept the patio.

Watered the plants.

That pause in my regularly-scheduled-programming — the internal loop that usually plays about my limited stamina and my increased pain — was, is, huge. It’s a sign that I have been working on myself. That I am actively trying to take better care of myself. Because while I know all about drinking water and trying to get enough sleep and taking my meds on time, the mental part of taking care of myself has been more difficult for me.

So I share all this in this week’s blog post because I am proud of myself. My therapist will know what a big deal this was, this is, for me. 

I’m also sharing because I know how much it means to me to come across a piece of writing that speaks of this hard, hard experience of living with a chronic illness and chronic pain. When I read a personal essay that I connect with, that makes me think Yes, That. Absolutely that, I feel less alone in this isolating world of invisible illness. 

It’s my hope this post can be that piece of writing for someone else.