So here it is: the crash. The day that I had known was coming for a long time has finally arrived. The world has ended; I am dead; time does not matter or exist any longer.

This is pretty much how it goes when you overdo it with a chronic disease. You start getting the warning signs that you’ve pushed too hard: the bladder spasms, the digestion problems, the urge to lie down all the time. However, by some miracle of willpower, it’s usually possible to keep going until you have nothing left to do.

Then, it’s almost as if a tsunami of distress hits you; a volcano erupts from inside, and your entire body goes into breakdown mode. You can either choose to accept that you now have to rest and allow the healing to happen, or you’re in for a very rough time.

The Situation

I wake up--kind of. I vaguely acknowledge that the very light sleep I’ve spent the night in is now over. I feel so very detached from reality that it probably shouldn’t be called being awake yet, though. The fatigue has won; it seems as if every bone has turned to lead and my muscles are straining under the pressure of simply existing. Yesterday’s curried goat has not gone down well with my body; my stomach is cramping, and I feel intensely nauseous. My acid reflux is also having a field day and is enthusiastically gnawing away at the bottom of my esophagus.

Alongside this, my Fibromyalgia pain is on fire, apparently on its own personal mission to override every other sensation and send me rolling around the bed in an attempt for a moment’s relief from the pain. There’s also another alien throbbing in my uterus, which may signal the start of a bad endometriosis flare. Yet, within all this devastation, I feel an overwhelming sense of calm. That’s the thing I find about crash days: your mind finally knows that it’s allowed to rest and heal and there’s something incredibly cathartic about succumbing to that.

Today was not a day for acknowledging time, so instead I’ve structured my diary by the few key events that I can remember…

Made It To The Bathroom

I don’t know how far into the day we are, but I know I’m looking at the mirror in the bathroom. It’s the first time I’ve had the space to take a moment to consider what I look like for a long while. The results are not pretty. Even from all the way across the bathroom it’s obvious that my eyebrows are in dire need of a good tweezing. My skin has broken out like its life depends on it, my hair is greasy, and there’s a distinctive clamminess that gives an unhealthy sheen to all of my body. Everywhere needs to be shaved; I’m comically bloated, and all my joints are hyperextending slightly, which makes my whole body look like a kind of floppy ‘S’ shape. My eyes are dark and bagged and my skin is a rather disturbing shade of pale green. This is the face of a bad chronic illness flare up: it is not pretty.

I think of all those girls who are probably, at this very same moment, fixing their makeup in the office bathroom or grieving over the small bit of stubble around their ankles. I don’t remember the last time I had the energy to shave my legs. This sight, this emotion, both do nothing more than cement the way I’m feeling about myself today--gross, pathetic, a failure. Unfortunately, I still haven’t quite refined the whole ‘not beating myself up on my bad days’ dilemma yet.

Communication

Usually, I try to spend these crashes alone, for the sake of the people around me more than anything. When you’re existing at such a high level of pain, the tension quickly mounts, and this tension can very rapidly explode on any unsuspecting passer-by, who happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. My partner has gotten very good with dealing with this--his tolerance is astounding--but today my friend is staying as well, and I don’t think she’d appreciate being shouted at for not shutting my bedroom door or some other menial task.

I try to stay calm when she comes to see how I’m doing: an action that, logically, I appreciate, but emotionally makes me want to tell her to leave me alone and let me die in peace. There are no words to explain how I currently feel, so I take the comfort and wait for her to leave. I’m aware how ungrateful I’m being, and know I’ll feel differently tomorrow, but right now people are far too difficult to add into this pain and discomfort equation that is currently defining my life.

Fried Chicken O’Clock

After lots more laying in bed and writhing around in pain, being a bitch to anyone who speaks to me and then profusely apologizing almost immediately, a sudden change surfaced; a sign that we’re moving to the next step of the bad flare up and I might not die after all! This is a common occurrence on days like these. Usually, I’ll feel so sick that it will be a struggle keeping even the blandest crackers down. Then, at a random point in the day, for an utterly inexplicable reason, I’ll get a deep and unshakable craving for the most obscure meals.

Today, it was fried chicken. And you’ve got to hand it to my support system, they well and truly provided. About an hour after the grand announcement that I needed fried chicken and that was the only thing that mattered in my life, my wonderful boyfriend arrived back home with a family size variety bucket and an extra portion of baked beans. Stuffing the greasy meat--something that would usually nauseate me on a normal day--into my mouth was heaven, and I gradually began to feel like there was a little substance inside the mess of nerves and pains and annoyance that was currently my body.

The rest of the day is a blur that is too foggy in my mind to recount, but it doesn’t end badly. The next day I wake up and I’m improving again. It’ll take a week of so to get things back to some semblance of normality. But now, at least I know that I’ve hit rock bottom and now the only way is up again.

Thank you for taking the time to read this mini-series and listen to my story; now I'd like to hear yours! If you struggle with a condition, then be sure leave a comment below if you'd like to share what the average bad flare up looks like for you! The more awareness we can create, the more people will understand chronic health problems!