To be out of the closet now. Keeping secrets is hard.
Begrudgingly ordering decaf at 8am on Monday or a mocktail at 6pm on a Friday is hard.
Dodging social invitations because I can’t lift my head up off the pillow is hard.
Posting workout shots on Instagram and pretending they’re current makes me feel like a shifty, no-count liar.
Nodding and smiling when someone diagnoses my malaise as “maybe the flu” or “could be allergies!” and offers some remedies feels disingenuous and weird.
Now that alien is public, I’m just telling everyone, indiscriminately. I told the barista today after ordering my herbal tea (yawn, herbal tea. You are so not interesting) and got a high five. I told a Meetup friend via text that’s why I’ve been (un)conveniently unavailable for her happy hour invitations and got a “how can I help?”
It’s so nice to come out of hiding, and flaunt my nausea without shame.
Bring it, world.*
* Just kidding. I’d actually really like this to be over. I’m willing to negotiate. Whatever it takes.