I am sick.
I am sick of being sick.
I am sick of being told I am not that sick.
I am sick of doctors telling me I am depressed and giving me anti depressants — six so far. None worked. They made me worse.
I am sick of being in bed, tired, not able to do much but sleep, read, and listen to music. Even when friends call it is not easy to talk. I get tired. But I do appreciate phone calls!
I am sick of people urging me to get up and walk. I am not Lazarus. They may mean well, but I simply cannot do it. My body, not my mind, is not responding.
Soon, this is what they will all see: