Have you ever felt like you have been hit with a ton of bricks? Not metaphorically or figuratively, or however else you may think, but genuinely and literally felt as if someone has taken a swing at you with a bag of cement? If you have, you feel my pain. If you haven’t, just try to imagine for a second so you can wallow in my misery with me for a brief moment.

I have officially been attending school for over a week now, and it has been a slap in the face to me realizing the challenges that my recovery really contests me with. Once I had believed that I had garnered enough energy to traipse my way through the halls of school, I guess I had subconsciously let myself think that I had endless clear skies ahead of me, but alas, this is not the case.

School is absolutely exhausting. I’m not talking the kind of exhaustion one feels after an intense workout, or the weariness after a long, stressful week; I am talking the kind of exhaustion that makes you feel like you have been flattened, the kind where you are so tired you feel as if you are going to puke. It almost knocks you over, it threatens to overcome you constantly, and every hour is a struggle just to keep your eyes peeled open. It makes you send nonsensical texts that you cannot even properly describe when later asked what you were trying to say, and it leaves you no other choice but to spend your precious Friday and Saturday evenings doing the last things most teenagers wish to do — sleep.

Now, I will admit I haven’t been allowing myself to take naps during the week anymore because I wish to stay on top of all my schoolwork, and I do make sure, no matter how tired, I am still taking out some time for the elliptical, which together thrown into the mix of everything probably puts more stress upon myself than I truly need, but honestly, I am just trying to get my normal life back. I don’t want to sacrifice one thing or the other just to make myself feel okay now, because I simply want to be better. Soon. But, as I’ve both seen and felt the slow demise of my body as the week drags on, I am realizing that sooner will probably be later, and I will have to give up certain things in order to maintain my health for the upcoming weeks and/or months.

I have learned that recovery is a word with many different meanings. For some it comes easily, a smooth ride filled with a month or so of rest followed by quickly assimilating back into everything that once composed their normal life. For others, it’s slow but steady wins the race. And for some, it is just a really lengthy ride filled with lots of bumps to trip you up and slow your progress. All in all, everyone reaches the same destination, we all get back to the life that we once had, it just all takes us different amounts of time, with different sorts of setbacks. I think I am finally starting to accept this, and while my recovery is by no means an immense struggle filled with obstacle after obstacle, it is just a lot slower than I expected it to be.

So I guess you could say I have hit a small setback, or at least realized one, but I’m still trucking along just fine. You could say it has been a bit of a struggle bus week, as the young folks would phrase it, and I’m sitting in that first seat as we drive along Struggle Street. Each bus has its stops though, so I know just like everyone else I will soon be getting off, and hopefully, stepping out onto a road free of any more unexpected bumps or bruises. For all my readers riding alongside me this week, don’t get too frustrated, because I can personally testify good things always come to those who wait. And as the wheels keep on turning, just like life keeps on going, the good will come and the bad will just be a speck in your rearview mirror. Until then, keep on keeping on. You’ll get there eventually.