She carries the weight of this world, her world, on her shoulders. And on her back, knees, hips, etc. This is life with fibromyalgia.
This is the life of constant pain with no rest. Even if she rests, she bears an emotional burden. She carries the guilt she feels for that sink full of dirty dishes and the dinner she failed to make. She cries inside for the dust that still lingers on the furniture and the dirty floors she hasn’t vacuumed.
She praises herself, though, for the fact that she made it to the grocery store. She’s thankful for the help she had making dinner for the kids. She’s joyful that although she hurts, the laughter she and her children share can fill her body with just enough endorphins to ease her pain. If only for a while.
She wishes this wasn’t forever, but must accept it is. So, she will continue to carry the weight of her world.
This is my world.