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I wake up and it is a struggle to throw my legs over the side of my bed and dig my toes into the carpet. Sometimes I wake up and I look for the orange bottle and realize I decided to live the hard way. Exhaustion comes too early in the day, as if just existing has taken all my energy. Caring for another person when you can barely remember to drink some water is so far from what is supposed to be healthy.

I don't want pity, I never have and I never will... I do ask for understanding and patience. It is hard to stay here when I've been ready to go. I fucking survived, though. Each morning I wake up and get out of bed, I've already won a battle or two. Just by opening my eyes, I've won again. I'm fighting a million battles every day and every day I win them all. So it's okay I'm exhausted. I just have to continue reminding myself that I'm beating it with each step I take.