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Lying in bed on a bad day. |
On tough days, I’ve found that hope doesn’t always come in big, dramatic moments—it often shows up quietly.
Sometimes it’s a message from a friend who just gets it. Or a walk outside where the air feels gentle and the sky reminds me that everything changes. Other times, it’s reading someone else’s story and realizing I’m not alone in this. Or understanding that there is a whole community of people out there who also live with chronic pain and try to support each other when they can.
I’ve learned to look for small wins: getting out of bed, making a cup of tea, writing a few lines in my journal. Those tiny acts remind me that I’m still moving, still trying, still here.
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Sitting on the verandah with a cup of tea on tough days can be a good achievement. |
And honestly, giving myself permission to rest—without guilt—has been one of the most hopeful things of all. It tells me I’m worthy of care, even when I’m not at my best. Someone said to me, "just give yourself grace for all you have lived through" and after so many years of chronic pain that really resonated with me.
Also remembering that I have been through many flare ups of symptoms before and this too shall pass.
Sometimes I need to talk and I reach out to the many helpful call lines where I live in Australia like Sane Mental Health or Lifeline. That helps me get my thoughts more in order and have contact with a non judgemental listener.
What helps you stay hopeful? I’d love to hear. Please let me know in the comments.
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Thanks for your input