In my situation it would be so easy to have a million posts about how crap things get. Maybe it's just the part of my mind that thinks that it's a lot more rewarding and pleasing to keep things positive and if needs be, find a positive if it's not readily available. I notice that people who post about how miserable they are and every twinge don't really get sympathy the more they do it. Sympathy is pointless, it doesn't fix the problem and it makes us forget that we need to put the work in ourselves too.
I'm not saying that people ought not grumble because we all have grumbles and gripes but there's a difference between a little gripe to constant moaning. We get it. Poor health and pain sucks but you can't let that define you as an individual. We are not an illness that just happens to have a person. We don't need to be obsessively checking every tiny symptom or scaring ourselves with "Dr Google". As admittedly you do need to monitor some illnesses but other than that being too alarmist about it will only mean that one day you could become ill and no one will listen (think boy who cried "wolf").
But in some way I think that hypochondria is a serious condition, along with Munchausen's. It recently came up in a support group about someone who told out and out lies about having a medical problem and it upset a lot of people. I think these people are in need of some kind of help to identify why they are so desperate to fill a need with a pretend illness (sometimes it can be something basic like only getting attention as a child when you were sick or people telling you that you're ill and weak so they can control you). Maybe it's because I live with illnesses that make me feel rubbish most days that it does get to me to see someone pretending to be ill when all I want is to get better and not need 20+ medications (probably nearly 50 pills a day, plus liquid morphine, inhalers and nebs and oxygen) just to be able to do things.
The thing is, I know Im not the worst case out there, there are people who are worse than I am and every day is a blessing because it's another day I'm still here and still fighting to survive. If someone said to me "take this and you will never have your problem again" I would with no hesitations. I'd love to be able to do things I loved and go back to work (I miss working as it really did feel lovely to open the bank account, see a wage and think "I earned that" rather than having to rely on the state) and not spend days just flopped about waiting to get well. That day may come, it may not. Of course I would grab it with both hands if someone offered me that chance but for now, my "job" is staying alive.
Jace has been helping me do that, from medications to making sure that if I'm tired, I rest a little. I know it's been challenging for him on days where even though I need to stay in bed, I've just wanted to flit about and do things, main things we did recently was having a complete clear out. Just getting rid of the things I don't need or use, giving away things that can be used again and throwing away the junk because I do have a hoarding instinct at times (typical part of OCD) and it's a challenge to keep that in check. I had to ask myself why I couldn't let go of things, there wasn't much reason for it in most cases and it had just been there at the time. Usually I hoard books, DVDs, drawing stuff and little trinkets, I'm cutting back on it now because this isn't just my space anymore, it's Jace's too. It's not fair for me to make him live amongst my rubbish. We are getting there and it's been a rewarding process from adapting to living with someone in an intimate way and it's one I intend to keep working on.
Move forward, don't stagnate.