"Fatigued" would be better, but who really uses that in conversation? "I'm so fatigued." Usually the answer is, "I'm tired." What you don't know is the night before I wasn't sure how I was going to walk up the stairs to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Then, I have to floss. Then, I have to wash my face. Then, I have to change clothes and you know what? Sometimes I go to bed in the clothes I've worn all day because I just can't do it. A lot of times I just want someone to bring me a blanket so I don't have to go up the stairs to begin with, but I know I would sleep better in bed.
When I tell you, "I'm fine," what you don't know is that that very morning I had to force myself out of bed and into the shower because I was so "fatigued" after 9 hours of sleep that I could barely put one foot in front of the other.
When I tell you, "I'm fine," what you don't know is that I had just had talked to someone about having visited a place with me that I would swear I had never been to.
When I tell you, "I'm fine," what you don't know is that the muscles in my arms hurt so badly that I can barely lift them, but the only thing I did was raise my arms when I was folding clothes. It doesn't take hardly anything to overexert my muscles. Before I started treatment in April I had to go to the emergency room. The doctor asked me if I had been lifting anything heavy. I laughed and said, "The only heavy thing I've been able to lift is the laundry basket." He had asked me that because I was spilling myoglobin in my urine which indicates muscle fatigue and exertion which is what you find in CrossFit people who end up with rhabdomyolysis.
When I tell you, "I'm fine," what you don't know is that I got lost on the way to where I was going even though I've taken the same route to the same place every week.
When I tell you, "I'm fine," what you don't know is that, just 5 minutes before I ran into you, I almost threw up in the parking lot.
When I tell you, "I'm fine," what you don't know is that sometimes when I'm in the middle of a conversation I have no idea what I'm saying or what the subject is about.
When I tell you, "I'm fine," what you don't know is that the night before I was laying in bed crying from the severe pain throughout my entire body.
When I tell you, "I'm fine," what you don't know is that the day before I had Lyme rage and yelled at my family for nothing. What you don't know is the guilt that I felt after I did it or that I couldn't stop crying for an hour after I apologized to them. Lyme has a HUGE neuro-psychiatric component. While I have other symptoms that are worse, I do suffer from some neuro-psychiatric symptoms and I hate it, but..."I'm fine."
When I tell you, "I'm fine," what you don't know is that I don't want people to think that I'm complaining. But, when I tell you, "I'm fine," I usually feel like I'm lying.
When I tell you, "I'm fine." I'm not fine, but that is the easy answer. Sometimes, if I think you really care and might take a couple of minutes to listen, then I will tell you how I'm feeling. I can promise you that for the past several years, "I'm fine" is not what I've wanted to say. I'd love to have one of those days to be able to say, "I'm great!" The past several months I've had a couple of good days. Sometimes I can only measure the good times in hours. There have been many more bad days than good. Will the great ones come? Yes, but not for a while. It's okay. I'll wait. Until then, when you ask...