The Difference Between Good and Bad Pain Days

If there is one thing I find particularly difficult about living with endometriosis, it's that it is invisible to everyone else. Besides me clutching at my tummy and a grimace on my face, there aren't really any physical symptoms that others can see.

Although I might not look any different, there is a huge difference for me between a "good pain day" and a "bad pain day".

On a good day

On a good day, I wake feeling rested and energized for a new day. I get myself out of bed, wash, dress nicely, pop some make-up on, and do my hair. I make sure the house is tidy, and get our little boy up, dressed and fed, ready for school. Then it's time to leave the house.

After the school run, it's time for some breakfast and then it's on with my day. I clean, prep for dinner, do any life admin that needs doing, and sometimes, get out for a look around the shops. Once our little boy is home from school, we talk and play and, well, mostly I just fetch him snack after snack from the kitchen. I cook dinner, tidy around while my partner tends to our son, and then I go to bed and fall asleep easily ready for another day.

On a bad day

On a bad day, however, I have to drag myself out of bed. I have had a restless night because of the pain I am in. I would fall asleep on the toilet if going for a wee didn't make me grit my teeth with the pain. I barely have the strength to lift my toothbrush to my mouth let alone shower. But, I somehow manage it, even if I do have to wash away the tears. After all the effort of washing, I sit on the bed. I am exhausted. After a while. I manage to pull some comfortable clothes on but I don't have the energy for make-up or doing anything with my hair. My partner or my mama take over the school runs for me.

I spend the rest of the day huddled on the sofa, with a heat-pad on my tummy. I feel dozy and can't think straight because of the pain and the side effects of the cocktail of painkillers I've had to take. The tablets have made me constipated, and this only adds to the pain. My joints hurt and I can't concentrate on anything. I don't have the energy in me to make any meals so I snack on whatever I can grab quickly before walking gingerly back to my spot on the sofa. I forget to think about dinner. I can't do the cleaning.

My partner takes over my tasks when he gets in from work, whilst cooking for us and looking after our son. All while I sit feeling like a helpless zombie. I go to bed early and pray for a better tomorrow.

Invisible

No matter how I feel inside, I look like everyone else - make-up, hair done, nicely dressed or the complete opposite.