It’s been a while since I’ve done this. I’m writing to let go of my anxiety. I’m feeling miserable about myself. I’m trying to breathe. Trying to be rational. But my overthinking always gets the best of me. I hate it.
I’m in dire need of my heart medication. I’ve never been without it. I’m so upset. I’ve cried a bit. When I’m overwhelmed, I cry.
Holding onto hope. There’s so much going on in the world, but this medication is essential to my wellbeing. I’m scared. I’ve contacted my team, I’m in touch with the pharmacy, and I will give UPS a call in the morning.
You’re swamped. I get it. But I’m on the road to getting myself more sick if I don’t take my meds. The life of a chronic condition patient. I don’t have anything to hide. This has been my life since I was 17 and then diagnosed with my heart condition at 20. This pandemic just reemphasizes the struggles of chronic condition patients. This is our reality. Whenever this pandemic passes, our realities remain the same. Struggle and survival.
I’m going to try to sleep, but I don’t know if I can.