I don't know.
I dont like to think of or even admit to myself that I'm disabled. I hate asking for help. I hate knowing my house is always messy because I'm incapable of doing normal everyday things that most people do almost as easy as breathing. Because even breathing is hard; I have to remind myself to breath as I so often find myself holding my breath from the pain. I don't want to be this way. I don't like being this person. I'm so tired of being tired. Sick of being sick. I find myself slowly slipping into a darkness that's always so very hard to climb back out of. There's always something it seems, and I just don't know how to fix it. I want to make things, I love working hard on something and seeing it come together. At least I used to. I want to feel that again. I want to clean my house and feel proud of it. I still try, I do little bits at a time, all the time. Trying to find the balance between getting things done and setting off another flare up that takes...