Personal Prison.



Living in pain. This is a prison, my personal hell. 


This week its worse, well, not so much the high pain levels but by the evening my legs are incredibly stiff and my husband is having to help me move, help me up stairs. I’m walking slow, embarrassingly slow.


I feel like I’m 90 not 26 – no one really knows who are close to me, that’s why I’m writing this. Its getting me down. Why cant i do simple things that ‘normal’ people can do? why do i get the shooting pains? why cant I exercise to lose weight like a normal person?


I am angry.. sometimes to breaking point. All I want to do is live like I used too before the HMS took over my body. All I want to do is look after my son properly, but even walking up the stairs with him is a dangerous task.


As the time goes on, he’s nearly 1.. one week away, and getting heavier (and cuter) but I am struggling.


Ive booked an appointment with my consultant at the Pain Clinic. I don’t know what I’m expecting her to do, there’s no miracle cure..


                   I’m just so fed up 😦

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