The Impacts of Long Covid Go Beyond The Symptoms

It’s one of those days again where my body has succumbed to the inevitable long covid crash from doing too much. I often feel like a shadow of my former self with how much I can no longer do as I try to balance and reserve the minimal energy I do get. There are so many hard things about dealing with this that go beyond the recurring symptoms though and some days that extra stuff is worse than the symptoms I and others have been left with.

One of those difficult things is trying to get medical professionals, organizations, and people to understand the impact and make them believe you know what’s going on with your body. Those of us dealing with long Covid get tired of the blood tests that confirm it’s not to do with weight, genetics, or some other sort of label. We get tired of having to explain what it’s like, how long it’s been going on, what we’re doing to try and overcome it, how life has changed since, and whatever else broken record response we need to continually say just to have this illness recognized. Our schedules are filled with appointments and tests to try and find ways to diminish our symptoms and to document everything for those keeping us under a microscope of disbelief. We have to self advocate constantly in hopes someone will finally believe us and want to help.

And many people don’t understand and ask things like, “have you thought about switching careers,” as if another career would be the bandaid to what we’re going through. Personally, I didn’t do 8 years of school, get 2 degrees, and pull those all nighters, just so I could get sick while working and then have to start from the beginning again in something new. I only finished paying off my student loans this year! No, switching careers or to a different location isn’t going to fix what’s going on. It’s such an attack for those of us dealing with this to be told, “well, have you thought about changing up something major?” Those of us dealing with this are already suffering from the loss of finances from not being able to work whether full time or reduced to part time. We’re already eating up the bills of specialist appointments and trial medications or supplements in hopes of regaining who we were before this. We have lost so much of who we are that losing that part of us too is off the table.

We are guinea pigs in this. Although the conspiracy theorists tell us we’ve brought it on ourselves. But the reality is, this isn’t something that has been researched for decades where they can give us a concrete answer or give us a pill, and everything goes back to normal. We are the research that is happening to help others and to find solutions. We are the people in long covid support groups finding out what is and isn’t working for each other as medical professionals continue to gaslight us. We are fighting to be heard while fighting for a moment of energy to be able to change the laundry and do a load of dishes.

We have lost so much of who we are as fatigue and other symptoms hold control over us. We are told to pace and adjust to conserve energy and avoid crashes, while also being told to get back to work faster than our bodies will allow or to exercise which causes more crashes. The things that were us collect dust, unused, and meld into the shadows of who we were before long covid took hold. We fight for our own identity in all this because of how much we can no longer do that was us before. We want to be better. We want to live our lives like we once did. We want answers. And we’re exhausted from all the other things we have to navigate that go beyond the symptoms we’re trying to get under control.

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I’m My Own Worst Enemy

Today I have the blahs. There are so many things spinning through my head and I can feel myself being my own worst enemy. So I sit, detached from the world, and embrace this blah feeling that has harvested within me.

I’m lost in that world of what ifs. I’m lost in that fear of what could and couldn’t happen. The voice that says I’m not good enough is bubbling up within me. I thought I had killed it, but apparently it was just dormant for a while. I’m lost in the pressures of society, the failure to properly pursue my dreams, never mind the inability to complete all daily tasks, and of course the overwhelming struggles with a chronic illness that is too new to have any concrete, sustaining solutions.

There is so much I should be doing today, while actually at home, but my brain is not helping. Having this day at home all I see is failure around me in the mess that has begun to accumulate again. The piles of laundry that are no longer under control, the sinks that fill as soon as they’re emptied, are all that never ending physical reminder that my attempts to gain control over things as minor as a clean house have been unsuccessful. All those moments of being so close to being done with organizing, purging, and cleaning get erased in those days of priorities elsewhere and the body crashes that prevent me from reaching that success. And although I know it’s a stupid thing to measure any sort of success by, it’s a visual reminder of how much I can no longer handle and balance.

Perhaps that’s it. Perhaps it’s that feeling of being unsuccessful in so many areas for so long that has me feeling so blah today. And although so much of it is completely out of my control, that doesn’t stop my brain from blaming me and seeing it as failure. Which then makes me feel ridiculous considering all the good things I have in my life, but today my brain hates me and is highlighting every area of my failures. It’s magnifying every set back and hurdle, making it that much harder to refocus on all that is good and what’s going right in my world. And it’s spiraling me with irrational fears of what ifs that are not based in reality.

Everything today is a reminder of what I can’t do, haven’t done, and still need to do. It’s overwhelming.

So for now, I’m going to post this for those of you beating yourself up too and remind you that we can only do what we can do. I’ll then throw in a load of laundry, stack the dishwasher, and go pick up my kids from school. And even if it doesn’t fix how I feel right now, it’s at least a step towards battling my brain and working to fight my ridiculous self standards; all in an attempt to make me feel like less of a failure than I do in this moment.

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