By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist

People have asked me and goodness knows, I ask myself sometimes: How am I going continue living this life?  

Please don't ever think I made it to this place overnight. Blood, sweat and tears are only the beginning of what it has taken. There aren't enough words to properly convey or explain what it's like to be in pain each moment of every day. Unless that's relatable to you, others just don't get it because they ain't got it, right?  

The ongoing situations I experience sound insane when I attempt to explain them. It's not logical to never have a break from discomfort; for your insides to feel as though they're climbing their way out, while the outside shrivels into a condensed version of identity that exists some days more than others, and at some points seems to disappear altogether.  

My conditions, whether we're referring to my relentless hurting head or the agony of damaged nerves, cause symptoms far beyond the ailments themselves. Persistent exhaustion has brought me to tears because the extent of the tiredness legitimately frightens me, convinced I must be slowly dying. But isn't that ultimately what we're all doing?

That acknowledgement isn't meant to be grim, but rather to shed a light on what has made it possible for me to even be here to write this:  Gratitude. Even for the smallest blessings.

Although I'm thankful to have made it to see another day, it began at an unreasonable hour this morning. As I lay there defenseless, a brutal migraine attack wreaked havoc out of nowhere, causing a wide array of less than positive emotions while I attempted to fight back.  Those are the moments when I wonder how I'll ever continue to possess what's needed to survive. When I cannot even manage to get myself out of bed.

Pre-COVID, most people smirked at the idea of “lounging around all day” and how nice it must be. So, maintaining that same logic, next time you're ravished with a relentless flu or tummy bug, just reflect on how nice it is to lie around and you'll feel much better. Not.

Remain mindful as to what you wish for and the way you judge a life you haven't lived. I don't even get a shot at normalcy, because the trigger of stabbing pains has already been pulled as I wake to attacks and flare ups. 

We continue on despite our pain. If we didn't, we obviously would no longer be here. There are times I contemplate slamming my head against the wall. Considering it already feels as though I have, that seems counterproductive.  

I'm overjoyed for whoever can continue to carry on, there are just days that I can't. Part of how I had even gotten myself this ill is by pushing myself too far. Singlehandedly operating a business, attending school and successfully running a hospital floor tending to the needs of others.

I'm no stranger to hard work; incurable ailments and a lifelong illness are the toughest jobs I’ve ever had!  Self-care wasn't something that existed in my world. Despite the fact it required hitting a wall first, learning self-care to tend to myself properly and unapologetically has been a gift that keeps giving.    

A difficult aspect of all this for me is that others seemingly forget who you were. I'm seen in a light now, almost as if I'm not living up to my potential and definitely pick up on vibes that being chronically ill somehow makes me "less" of a person.

I do not accept that and here's why: Anyone that has a negative opinion regarding your situation either cannot relate or doesn't understand, so always consider the source. I am thankful for their health and celebrate that mine isn't any worse.  

As people enduring these circumstances, we experience pain levels that would bring others to their knees. Free yourselves from judgement of self and others. Remain prideful. We know what it has taken to make it to this point and only we know what's best for us. My choice is to continue inching closer toward acceptance of the current moment and remain faithful in future possibilities.

Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster headache and fibromyalgia. Mia is the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, a Facebook advocacy and support group, and Peace & Love, a wellness and life coaching practice for the chronically ill.