When The Body Says No

At first, it was subtle and easy to ignore. A dip in energy and slight headache, the kind of thing you assume will pass if you keep going. Instead, it escalated quickly and before I fully understood what was happening, I found myself bed bound. Over a short period of time, I slept for twenty-seven hours, waking only briefly. Exhaustion, migraine, aches, pains, fever and various minor annoyances followed, piling up until they no longer felt minor at all.

My body was failing me.

It stopped me working and it stopped me walking. It made me feel old overnight, and I wasn’t even able to manage minor chores. I was angry at it and no longer able to feel proud of my body or its achievements. That pride replaced with self loathing, irritation and a strong sense of underachieving. 

Between coughing fits, I felt vulnerable and scared. Nothing was shifting the cough, not even the inhaler I was grateful for getting a month or two prior, but it helped alittle. Suddenly I was grateful that I was organised and forward-thinking, and I could appreciate that as a blessing. The cough had barged in, and had set up home. I was its chosen host, a squatter in my body. Despite all my attempts at being healthy minded and as proactive as I could manage, this unexpected visitor not only took up residence but made itself impossible to ignore. It played loud music at three in the morning and persisted until sunrise. Leaving my chest tight, tired and tender.

Misery often came to visit. As did self-pity. Joining a party I wanted to shut down, but couldn’t. I felt annoyed with myself for being so affected, and unable to stop the spiral once it had begun. This was underlining and emboldening that CONTROL is what I like to have, and this certainly stripped that away from me.

Only days earlier, my body had carried me across kilometres with ease. Now it was asking me to stop. I wasn't ready to listen, but I had no choice. This squatter was here to stay for a while, and I was learning what it meant to share space I had always assumed was mine. 

I will have the last laugh. He couldn’t stay here forever. My body, in time, when it was ready, will evict the uninvited guest and normal business will resume!

--- 28th Jan 2026 ---

If any of this resonated with you, please leave a comment. Thank you in advance, Tracey x