"Do you have any medical problems or health concerns?" It’s a routine question on forms and from professionals, one that I used to answer with an assured "No!"

I wasn’t being dishonest; I simply forgot. Pain and fatigue had become so ingrained in my daily life that they seemed normal. Wasn’t everyone this tired all the time? But today, I’m learning to accept my situation - not as a sign of defeat, but as a release from the constant struggle. Perhaps this is what acceptance looks like: letting go of the fight and learning to float with the tide, saving my energy for when I need it most.

I am currently stuck in the mud, ensnared in a relentless cycle of pain and fatigue. The more I struggle against it, the deeper I seem to sink, like quicksand pulling me further into its grasp. When a rare glimmer of energy appears, I often overexert myself, like a sprinter who uses up all their strength in the first burst, only to collapse before the finish line. This perpetual struggle is akin to trying to climb a slippery hill; every step forward is met with a slide back down.

This daily struggle with fatigue often leaves me feeling like a shadow of my former self. The constant need for rest transforms me into a hibernating bear, retreating into my den for long stretches. I frequently grapple with guilt for not being present enough as a mum and wife, feeling like an observer of life rather than a participant. It’s as if everyone else is living with boundless energy and joy, while I watch from behind a foggy window, distanced from the vibrancy and unable to fully engage.

My joint pain has become a steadfast companion, a relentless shadow that makes even the simplest tasks a Herculean effort. Each day, fine motor skills become a battleground, where buttoning a shirt or writing a note feels like threading a needle during a storm. The frustration of grappling with this limitation is immense. Once, I took pride in my physical abilities, reveling in strength and agility, albeit always followed by pain and fatigue regardless – but that was my normal. Now, I navigate a new reality, adapting and seeking alternative ways to accomplish tasks, while acknowledging that some days will inevitably pose greater challenges than others.

I have fibromyalgia. Having a diagnosis since 2019 confirmed that the relentless pain and fatigue I had been experiencing were not all in my head. On the other hand, nothing much changed at all. I still had to be a mum. I still had to do my full-time job. I still had a home to look after. I still had to function. I had been battling my body for so long, believing that sheer willpower and determination could overcome whatever was wrong with me, and that just continued. And so began a phase not of deceit, but of ignoring, forgetting, and believing I could continue as if nothing had changed.

The diagnosis wasn’t entirely unexpected. I had known for ages that my body responded differently to exercise and stress—something was off. The official diagnosis simply put a name to the struggle I had been experiencing for years.

I’ve already been headfirst into a whirlwind of alternative health treatments and wellness fads. I followed wellness influencers on social media who claimed to be cured or in remission from their illnesses by following plant-based, vegan, or other alternative diets. Each new method promised relief, a way to reclaim my old self. But maintaining these diets and wellness regimes was exhausting. Instead of finding relief, I found myself stuck in a cycle of hope and disappointment. This only exacerbated my fatigue and pain. And I felt like a failure, believing that I just wasn’t trying hard enough.

The fatigue is so overwhelming that I often can’t muster the energy to make myself a healthy meal, let alone stick to whatever diet promises anti-inflammatory or anti-fatigue relief. Sometimes, grabbing the easiest, quickest option is the only way to quickly fuel myself. This constant battle leaves me burned out and even more fatigued, a never-ending cycle that takes a toll on my mental and physical health.

Accepting my illness might seem like surrendering, but it's not. It's like a river bending to the landscape, finding a new path to flow through, acknowledging the reality of my situation and choosing to live within my limits instead of constantly fighting against them. Acceptance doesn’t mean giving up; it means adapting and finding new ways to live a fulfilling life.

The first step in this journey of acceptance is recognising that there is no quick fix, or even a fix at all. All that is required of me now is self-compassion. I need to learn that it’s okay to say no, to rest when I need to, and to set boundaries that protect my health and well-being.

It’s time to start listening to my body and to respect its limits. It’s time to prioritise self-care and to celebrate small victories. Some days, simply getting out of bed and taking a shower will feel like climbing a mountain, and that’s okay. I need to stop this boom-and-bust cycle that I have been in for so long. I am spending far too long in bust now and it’s getting more and more difficult to recover from each period of rebound pain and fatigue.

In accepting my illness, I want to find a new kind of strength. It won’t be the fierce, unyielding determination I once had, but a gentler, more resilient kind of strength. It will be the kind of strength that a tree has, bending in the wind without breaking, to face each day with grace, to find joy in small moments, and to keep moving forward despite the challenges.

This journey of acceptance will always be ongoing. There will be days when I feel overwhelmed by pain and fatigue, and it’s easy to fall back into old patterns of frustration and resistance. But I must remind myself that acceptance is not a destination; it’s a practice. It’s a daily choice to embrace my reality and to live my life as fully as I can, within the limits that fibromyalgia imposes.

Despite these challenges, I am determined to find a way to live well. It will be a path marked by patience, self-love, and resilience. Like the river that bends to the landscape, I will find my way through this, carving out a new path that allows me to flow with the changes and embrace my reality.