I’ve written about being a “spoonie.” And the difficulty I had in referring to myself as a “spoonie.” (You can read more about it here.)

Whether or not I describe myself as a spoonie, certain facts remain:

– I live with a chronic illness causing chronic pain.

– I have limited amounts of energy each day.

– I cannot always rely on my body to do what I would like it to do.

– There is no denying all the ways illness has changed my life, and all these years later I still feel sad/angry/frustrated for all the “little” ways my daily life has been made harder since becoming chronically ill.

These feelings are not unique to me. Which is one of the reasons I wanted to read A Spoonie’s Guide to Self-Acceptance, a poetry chapbook written by Kelly Esparza. (Kelly serves as the Editor-in-Chief of FLARE Magazine, an online journal where my personal essay, “Am I a Spoonie?”, was published.)

Ms. Esparza’s collection is an honest, tender, thoughtful look at a spoonie’s life.

There were many times I read a poem and felt myself nodding in agreement. Because, unfortunately, Ms. Esparza “gets it.”

Here are just a few phrases that really made an impression on me:

“rashes snake up your legs,
a butterfly blush kisses your cheeks,” from “Blame It on the Sun”

“You get wheeled around in a wheelchair sometimes,
because you’re Fatigue’s next victim,
and you’re stuck in Inflammation’s sticky spider web of deceit”  from “Invisible Illness”

And the final poem in the collection may be my favorite. It’s titled, “Welcome to the Spoonie Club,” and includes these phrases:

“I’ve got a bouquet of spoonie problems,
but I’m not letting that stop me.”

And

“Knives cut where it hurts,
forks, are pitchforks for the hunted,
yet spoons scoop and uplift.”

One last thing, friends. Wishing you Merry, Happy Days. May you feel cozy and comfortable. And may you enjoy lots of reading time!