So last Friday, I forced myself to attend a gathering with my partner at our friend’s house. I knew I wasn’t well enough, but I didn’t want to give in. Everyone keeps commenting on how well I’ve been doing, and that sometimes feels like such immense pressure, as though they’re all holding their breath waiting for my next inevitable decline. I had only been there for about 10 minutes when one of the girls asked me how I had been. I tried to shrug it off with the usual, “good thanks”, but for some reason I just couldn’t get the words out. I just couldn’t muster the energy to lie. I could feel her waiting for me to respond, but I just sat there on the couch, watching everyone around me talking and laughing. I felt like I was trapped in some bizarre fishbowl, present but not really participating, and then suddenly I was crying. The tears were spilling down my cheeks in an endless torrent. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. All of the frustration, the sadness and the sheer exhaustion just kept pouring out of me. I felt my friend’s hand on my arm. Her concern was palpable. She asked what was wrong, but all I could taste was salt. Suddenly they were all there, all concerned about my well-being, but I didn’t know how to articulate it. How do I explain how lonely I feel on this journey when I have so many people that care about me? How do I tell them it isn’t always enough? How do I make them understand just how hard I have to work, every single second of every single day, to maintain some semblance of stability? How do I convey this anguish inside of me? I’m so scared sometimes, overwhelmed by the uncertainty,  and frustrated with the sense that I have no power over my body and that I’m just along for the ride. So when they ask me what’s wrong, I tell them that I’m tired. Then I apologise. I apologise for everything I am and try to choke my sadness into silence.