I was left on a doorstep.
Grew up facing racism.
I was sexually assaulted by one man and raped by another.
Domestically abused.
I lost a child.
And then a medical mistake took away the life I had built over the past 36 years.

It took some time to get here, but I can now say this…

To the “parents” who left me on a doorstep…
thank you for opening the door to opportunity.
I found a home with loving parents
who weren’t stuck with me. They chose me.
I will be forever grateful to them and the life they’ve given me.

To those who belittled me, called me names, and made squinty eyes at me…
You didn’t break me.
You gave me thick skin
and prepared me for the ignorance that still exists.

To the men who assaulted and raped me…
I no longer carry your shame.
That belongs to you.
I only hope your daughters never have to endure the same hell you put me through.

To the man who emotionally & physically abused me…
I pray for your healing
from all the pain and anger you tried to bury me in.
May you find the strength to stop running from yourself.

To the child I lost…
I will carry you in my heart, always.
I’ve found peace
in knowing you’re with God.

To the doctor who took away the only life I knew…
I’m still angry.
I’m still processing and grieving.
I’m learning how to let go of losing myself,
the life I thought I’d have, and a life I’ll never get back.
…But I’ll get there.

To all the victims out there…
you’ve had enough taken from you.
Don’t let them take anymore of you.

Because trauma isn’t only what happened to us…
it shapes who we become after.

I blamed myself
or was manipulated into believing it was my fault.
Releasing yourself from that burden is not easy.

Trauma affects each of us individually.
We heal at different levels
and within different time frames.

But how you heal makes a difference…
Because there are two types of victims.

The ones who remain trapped inside their trauma.
Who use their pain to justify hurting and manipulating others.
Stuck in a world where they believe they are owed.

And then there are the ones who grow.
They become stronger and better,
as they rebuild what someone else tore down.

I refuse to let my trauma define me.

I stopped seeing myself as a victim…
and started seeing myself as a survivor.

Some of the closest people in my life, I have kept in the dark.
Partly because it became hard for me to trust,
but also because I wasn’t ready to share.
For reasons of guilt, shame, and fear of being seen differently.

I’ve come to realize the power in sharing…
is not only for the survivor,
but for those who are still trying to survive.

You may like: Choosing Me Was the Hardest Decision I’ve Ever Made

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I didn’t build Living with Latitude to just be a place where I share my story and my journey.

I know what it feels like to be in this… and still feel completely alone.

This is not just a blog or content. It’s something everyone can be a part of. Whether you’re on your own journey or helping someone through theirs.

This was never meant to be one-sided. My vision was to create a community where we can be real, support each other, learn to navigate our illnesses, & spread awareness.

I’m excited to announce our first update: Our Community is now live on livingwithlatitude.com.

Our Community

Here’s where it stops being just MY voice, & starts becoming OURS.

Inside, you’ll find:

• What’s New → a place to stay updated as things grow and evolve

• REAL Conversations → honest, unfiltered conversations with people who get it

• Community Spotlight → one story each month, because every experience deserves to be seen

• Submit Your Story → a place for you to share, whether it’s raw, unfinished, or something you’ve never said out loud before

• Our Voices → a collection of real stories, reflections, and experiences from this community

Resources

I went back and forth on this for a while. I didn’t want this to turn into just another overwhelming list of information.

But I also know how many of us are constantly searching for answers, for validation, or anything that helps us understand what’s happening in our own bodies.

I created a Resources section that’s simple, organized, and actually useful. This page will continue to grow. More conditions will be added and resources and support will expand. If there’s something you want to see, please remember you can submit a request!

You’ll be able to explore by condition, like:

• POTS

• Adrenal Insufficiency

• Fibromyalgia

• Chronic Fatigue

Here you can find:

• Support and Management Tips

• Education & Awareness

• Tools to navigate daily life

• Real Experiences

Why This Matters

Living with Latitude is growing. But more than that… it’s becoming something.

A place where:

• you don’t have to explain yourself

• you don’t have to prove anything

• and you don’t have to pretend you’re okay when you’re not

If you’ve been here, reading quietly—
I want you to know you’re already part of this.

And if you’ve ever felt like your story doesn’t matter… I’m going to tell you, it does.

Start Exploring

If you haven’t yet, you can start here:

• Explore Our Community

• Check out the Resources

• Or share something of your own

We’re building this together… and this is just the beginning.

If you know someone living with Chronic Illness or looking
for information to support a loved one, please share.

Share

Last week, I came out of a ten-day crash.

For ten days, I could barely get out of bed.

The pain, the migraines, the dizziness, the nausea, but most of all the fatigue. The fatigue is indescribable. Hard to explain to someone who hasn’t lived it.

I would lay in bed just staring at the wall because I didn’t have enough energy to turn on the TV and decide what to watch.

Getting up to use the bathroom or grab a snack was about all I could manage… and that came at a cost. Every time I got up the dizziness and nausea would hit me immediately.

During that crash, it gave me a lot of time to think… about my health, my work, and my life.

The struggles have been more than I let on or how they appeared on the outside. This is the worst my health has ever been. It brought me to the realization that I have not been honest with how scary things have actually become.

I have been lying to myself and the people around me.

Constantly on the edge of crashing.
My body fights against every move I make.
The increased effort it takes to do anything continues to grow each day.

To just get out of bed.
To take a shower.
Driving to appointments.
Even trying to focus.

I feel like I am down more than I am functioning.
No matter what I do or how hard I try.

Physically, mentally, emotionally…
I’m exhausted in every possible way a person can be.
Breakdowns are becoming more frequent.

What’s most devastating is that it’s affecting my ability to be the mother my son deserves. Lately I feel like I’m falling short, and not because I don’t care or I’m not trying.

I simply don’t have anything left to give.

Regardless, the guilt is there, and it doesn’t go away. Being a single full-time parent is hard enough. When you add both of our medical issues as well as trying to keep up with work, his schooling, and his sports – It adds additional stress both physically and emotionally.

I’m doing everything I can to hold things together.
The truth is… I’m barely holding on.

I feel like I’m letting everyone down, no matter how much I push myself, it never feels like enough.

I’ve been holding back medications out of fear of how it will effect my adrenal insufficiency and POTS. I’m afraid that it will cause crashes affecting my ability to work. I’ve missed appointments because I crashed from pushing myself too hard, and from the multiple issues of multiple different illnesses.

I have no energy to even attempt additional recommended appointments. I need to be able to try things that could possibly give me a better quality of life, without being afraid of crashing.

What I’m currently doing is not working, and it’s not sustainable.

I keep thinking and hoping things will turn around.
Telling myself, one of these days I’ll be back to my old self.

I’m finally starting to realize… with the type of illnesses I have, I need to accept that “normal” isn’t something I get to return to.

I have to stop waiting for my old life to come back.

Holding on to the person I was and what I could do, is only keeping me stuck. It’s like a song on loop. The only way it’ll change is to hit the stop button and play a different song.

The best I can do is stabilize my heath.
Learn how to manage multiple illnesses at the same time.
Create a life where I can function.

More importantly…

At this moment in my life, I need to do something I’ve never done before.

I need to choose me.

Even if I let people down.
Even if it changes everything.
Even if it means letting go of who I was and starting over.

Read The Story Behind Living with Latitude.

Sometimes the right words reach the right person at the right time. If you know someone else who is struggling with chronic illness, please share our community with them.

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All subscribers have access to our new Community Chat.

Everyone is welcome to our Facebook Group: Navigating Chronic Illness | Living with Latitude.

As you try to learn its signals, its patterns, and the difference between a bad day and the beginning of a crash…

There’s an extra twirl to the dizziness.
An extra churn in your stomach.
Pain feels like it suddenly develops an evil twin.

And then the fatigue… so horrendous it leaves you lying in bed staring at the wall because even watching tv is too exhausting.

The one consistency with chronic illness is the crash I get every month before my period.

The two illnesses that seem to be affected the most are my adrenal insufficiency and POTS. It’s another part of managing chronic illness that many healthcare professionals don’t warn you about.

POTS and Your Menstrual Cycle

For someone living with POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), the menstrual cycle can trigger significant symptom flares.

Hormonal shifts affect multiple systems in the body, including blood volume, circulation, temperature regulation, and inflammation.

Estrogen and progesterone fluctuate throughout the menstrual cycle before both drop right before menstruation.

Estrogen helps regulate blood volume and vascular tone. When estrogen drops, blood vessels can dilate more easily and blood volume may decrease. This can worsen blood pooling and increase orthostatic intolerance — already core symptoms of POTS.

Progesterone also plays a role in fluid balance and sodium retention. When progesterone levels change, dehydration symptoms can worsen and circulation can become more unstable.

When menstruation begins, the body releases prostaglandins, inflammatory compounds that help shed the uterine lining.

Prostaglandins:

• Trigger uterine contractions

• Increase inflammation

• Affect blood vessels

• Influence the autonomic nervous system

For someone already dealing with autonomic dysfunction, these changes can amplify symptoms significantly.

Even the blood loss that occurs during menstruation can temporarily reduce circulating blood volume, which can worsen dizziness, fatigue, and fainting episodes in people with POTS.

Adrenal Insufficiency and Your Menstrual Cycle

The menstrual cycle is also a physiological stress event for the body.

It involves:

• uterine contractions

• tissue breakdown and repair

• inflammatory signaling

• increased metabolic demand

These processes increase the body’s need for cortisol.

A healthy body can respond to this demand by producing more cortisol to regulate inflammation and stress responses.

But someone with adrenal insufficiency cannot produce sufficient cortisol.

That means the body is forced to handle the inflammatory and metabolic stress of menstruation without the hormone that normally helps regulate it.

The prostaglandins released during menstruation can cause cramps, migraines, nausea, fatigue, and gastrointestinal symptoms.

In a healthy endocrine system, cortisol helps limit these inflammatory responses. But for someone with adrenal insufficiency, these effects can be stronger and far more debilitating.

The 3–5 Day Window

For me, the worst symptoms always appear three to five days before my period.

This stage of the cycle is called the late luteal phase, when estrogen and progesterone rapidly decline.

When POTS and adrenal insufficiency overlap during this phase, several systems can destabilize at the same time.

The result can be:

• profound fatigue

• flu-like exhaustion

• intense dizziness

• fainting

• severe nausea

• brain fog

My symptoms became so debilitating each month that I created an annual calendar to track my cycle.

The start of my period is highlighted in red.
The five days before are highlighted in yellow.

Those yellow days signal something critical for me: it’s time to start stress dosing my hydrocortisone because of my adrenal insufficiency.

Without doing this, I have come dangerously close to going into adrenal crisis. And for those who may not know, adrenal crisis is life-threatening.

Do It For You

Living with chronic illness often means learning things about your body that no one prepared you for.

Doctors may diagnose the condition, but the day-to-day patterns of what makes symptoms better or worse are often things patients must figure out on their own. For many people with chronic illness, hormonal changes are one of those hidden triggers.

It’s another reminder that chronic illness isn’t just about one diagnosis. It’s about how multiple systems in the body interact… sometimes in ways that can make already complicated conditions even harder to manage.

And sometimes, the most important medical chart isn’t one in your doctor’s office, but one you create yourself.

If you missed Part 2 of the “We’re All Tired” Series, you can catch up here.

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please share our community with them.

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There will come a moment when you have to redefine normal and learn how to live inside a body you no longer recognize.

This is Part 3 of the “We’re All Tired” Series.

In Part One, I explained the physiological difference between ordinary tiredness and the fatigue that comes with chronic illness.

In Part Two described the emotional impact it causes. The hidden losses, guilt, and isolation that often follow.

Living Within Limits

Part Three is about learning how to build a life within limits you didn’t choose.

So what happens when you finally come to the realization that this isn’t just a nightmare you can wake up from? It’s not a broken arm that will heal in a few months. And it’s not something that will change with the season.

If you’ve never been in a long-term relationship… congratulations. You’re in one now.

Unlike an actual relationship, you can’t break up with fatigue. There’s no compromising with it, no ignoring it, and sleeping on the couch won’t give you a break. Fatigue becomes something you don’t just endure, but something you must learn to live alongside.

It may be silent, but the adjustment is anything but.

The Invisible Calculations & Frustration of an Unpredictable Body

Most days I wake up and stress is already staring me right in the face. Like a child anxiously waiting to open presents on Christmas morning, watching for the slightest sign that mom and dad are awake.

My mind starts thinking about everything I need to do today. Stress’s siblings — anxiety and guilt — show up as I reflect on all the things I didn’t get done yesterday.

The phrase “not enough hours in the day” has never been more true for someone living with chronic illness.

Running errands and making dinner after work could keep you in bed the next day.
Going to a child’s school or sporting event tonight could mean a late start tomorrow.

While these calculations may seem unnecessary or excessive to a healthy individual, they are essential for someone living with chronic illness. Ignoring or missing these limits can lead to a crash or an extended recovery period. The cruel irony is that constantly measuring, calculating, and planning requires energy too.

Regardless of how carefully you pace yourself or how intently you listen to your body, it has its own agenda. Unpredictability is one of the hardest challenges of chronic illness fatigue.

One day you may feel almost “normal.” The next, you can wake up feeling like you’ve just completed an Ironman.

Redefining What a Full Life Looks Like

Productivity is often evaluated by how much you can accomplish, how busy you are, or how full your calendar looks. But when your body forces you into a different rhythm — one that others cannot see — that mindset becomes destructive.

It’s okay to slow down. Do I want to slow down? No. Do I need to? Yes.

Accepting that life does not have to be lived at the pace that everyone else demands can allow a new mindset of what a meaningful life looks like.

How to Help Someone You Love

Believe me.
Trust me.
Respect my limits.

Please don’t ask me to prove anything, and don’t make assumptions – just ask. Don’t look at me like I’m insane when I tell you something small takes too much energy.

Understand that even though I may look okay, inside me it feels like a bomb just went off. Trust me when I tell you this isn’t a case of mental toughness, or mind over matter. If this had anything to do with willpower, I’d already be cured.

Avoid comparisons

You now understand that being tired does not compare to the fatigue of chronic illness. Comparisons drain emotional energy and create shame, anxiety, and feelings of personal failure… all of which worsen my symptoms.

Defend me.
Validate me.
Remember me.

Correct others who make minimizing comments or shame accommodations. Those comments create self-doubt and internalize guilt. They teach me to dismiss my real symptoms. They reframe my medical safety as a privilege and make me feel like asking for help is not permitted.

Educate yourself about the diagnosis that broke me. The diagnoses that left me devastated, staring into the mirror, unable to recognize my own reflection.

What You Can’t See

Know that I already question my self-worth. I used to be somebody. Since my illnesses I feel more like a nobody. It’s as if I’ve lost my value. My purpose. And at times the guilt is unbearable.

Know that most days I force a smile and act out the best version of my old self.

Know that I am struggling to keep my head above water. I feel defeated and full of despair, yet I’m using every ounce of energy available to keep fighting.

I’m not the same person anymore. While I’m still searching for pieces of me, know that my heart has not changed. You may not see it, but I still care. Deeply. I still love. And no matter how much it seems I’m isolating myself, I still want connection. I need connection.

Know this is not me feeling sorry for myself.
It’s me processing the changes, the challenges to come, and still grieving the losses.

Rebuilding Life Within Limits

I am forced to rebuild a life with new limits on energy, time, and what my body can do, and I was left with no skillset, no materials, and no crew.

Allow me the latitude:

To learn.
To breathe.
To be seen.

Without shame.
Without guilt.
Without judgment.

Now published

Read: Choosing Me Was the Hardest Decision I’ve Ever Made

If this resonates with you, please subscribe.

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All subscribers have access to our new Community Chat.

Everyone is welcome to our Facebook Group: Navigating Chronic Illness | Living with Latitude.

Hi everyone,

One of the things I care about most with Living with Latitude is creating a space where people living with chronic illness can feel seen, be who they are, and not hesitate to ask for help with managing their illnesses.

Because of that, I’ve added something new — The Living with Latitude Subscriber Chat is now open.

This is a place where we can talk more casually about the things we experience every day — fatigue, identity changes, wins, difficult days, and everything in between.

You can:

• Ask questions

• Share experiences

• Offer support

• Connect with others

• Suggest topics for future articles

I’ll also occasionally start conversations about upcoming articles, posts, or other new additions to Living with Latitude.

All subscribers have access to our new Substack Community Chat.

Everyone is welcome to our Facebook Group: Navigating Chronic Illness | Living with Latitude.

Living with Latitude exists because of you.
Thank you for being part of this community.

— Living with Latitude

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1. Get the Substack app by clicking this link or the button below. New chat threads won’t be sent sent via email, so turn on push notifications so you don’t miss conversation as it happens. You can also access chat on the web.

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2. Open the app and tap the Chat icon. It looks like two bubbles in the bottom bar, and you’ll see a row for my chat inside.

3. That’s it! Jump into my thread to say hi, and if you have any issues, check out Substack’s FAQ.

“We’re all tired.” A phrase thrown around so casually.

After a busy week, a long day, or a bad night’s sleep… it’s valid. Life can be exhausting sometimes. It’s nothing that a glass of wine, a soak in a warm bath, and a good night’s sleep won’t cure.

I miss those days. The days when tired went away with sleep and a cocktail.

There is a kind of tired that many people will never experience. Chronic illness fatigue is physically exhausting but also carries an emotional weight most people never see.

The Hidden Losses of Fatigue

Fatigue is a thief.

It steals your energy and robs you of precious time, slowly taking pieces of your life.

You may not have noticed it much at first. It was only a cancelled lunch date or leaving early from a get-together with friends. Before you know it, you’re not doing anything during the week because your energy is spent focusing on work and getting kids to school and after-school activities.

That turns into your weekends becoming your recovery time, catching up on housework, and any tasks you had to put off during the week. Over time, those moments add up, and eventually you begin isolating yourself because the thought of being around people is too exhausting.

Today, all my days seem to run together. There’s no concept of “the weekend.” Before I know it, another week has gone by, and I feel like I have nothing to show for it.

Fatigue is not just an inconvenience anymore… it’s a way of living. It controls your schedule and you find yourself planning your life around energy you may or may not have.

When Reliability Disappears

One of the most challenging parts of living with chronic illness fatigue is losing the ability to do the things you want. It’s not a scheduling conflict or a miscommunication keeping you from showing up.

That person I once knew… the one you could rely on.

If I said I would help you move, I was there carrying the biggest boxes.
If I said I would watch your kids, I was there rolling around on the floor with them.
If I said I would be there, I showed up.

I mean , sometimes I might have been late… but I would always be there.

I strive to be the person who follows through with the things and the people I make commitments to. Fatigue took that from me. It ripped away my right to choose.

There’s no compromising, no negotiating, and no bargaining.

And with that comes guilt.

The Guilt That Comes with Rest

Accompanying fatigue is guilt, and one of the most complicated parts of living with chronic illness. While resting is necessary and aids in recovery, it can also feel uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing.

I’m constantly thinking about everything else I need to get done or should be doing. The responsibilities I have, the expectations I feel from others, and the pressure to stay productive. When you live in a world that values constant output, it easily makes rest feel like I’m a failure.

There’s also the side of guilt that comes from breaking commitments or cancelling plans. The guilt of letting others down because you can’t show up.

When Your Identity Changes

Fatigue doesn’t just affect the physical abilities of someone with chronic illness. It affects the core of who you are and how you see yourself.

I lost the version of myself that moved through life like the energizer bunny. The version of me that thrived independently. The one who didn’t have to assess my day in terms of what my body could endure.

“Old me” was highly independent, which is why this fatigue is especially painful for me.

I did things for myself, I worked hard, and I was forever on the move. I took care of responsibilities without hesitation. I never felt the need to ask for help. And I never had to worry about slowing down.

Independence was how I labeled myself. It’s how I saw myself. Losing a part of that was losing a part of who I was.

My identity.

Who is this person?

You missed your son’s basketball game.
You had to ask for help picking him up after school.
You couldn’t finish mowing the lawn.
There’s dishes in the sink.

Things that once felt effortless require more energy than my body has to give. Learning I have to accept that I now have limits has been an incredibly difficult pivot for me. Even with time it’s still hard to process.

The Isolation Fatigue Creates

Fatigue quietly creates distance between you and everything around you. You feel as if you are on pause while the rest of the world is on play.

The energy it takes to change out of your sweatpants and take a shower is overwhelming. The thought of conversing at social gatherings is already draining.

People don’t realize that it can be a chore to even leave the house. Over time, fatigue takes pride in dictating the events you’re able to participate in, and that can lead to fewer invitations, fewer outings, and fewer opportunities to connect.

Sometimes it’s easier and more comfortable to stay home and other times it’s necessary.

Regardless of which, it feels incredibly lonely.

The Pressure to Look “Fine”

Chronic illness fatigue is often invisible.

I may look “normal” or appear to be healthy. There are countless days when I’m simply quiet and smiling. Many times, I carry on as if nothing has changed or is wrong.

The whole “fake it until you make it” deal… well, you know what they say.

Looks can be deceiving.

Behind my smile is someone who feels completely depleted. The mime version of me is silently pushing through the day with momentum I don’t actually have. I have become a professional at pretending I’m fine.

Rather than trying to explain the difference between tired and fatigue – and the mental and emotional exhaustion from the eye rolls and sarcasm – it simply takes less energy to hide it.

It may look like I’m crazy when I tell people that I have to save energy in order to complete the necessities.

For example, some days it’s easier for me to work from home. On hard days, the amount of energy it takes to shower, get ready to go somewhere, and to drive to your destination is energy that could be spent actually being productive.

What People Don’t Understand About Fatigue

Fatigue is one of the hardest parts of chronic illness because of how often it’s misunderstood.

“You seem fine.”
“You need to exercise more.”
“Just push through.”

While these suggestions or comments may feel like normal responses to someone with a healthy body, for someone living with a chronic illness, the truth is much more complex.

Even though these comments may be coming from a place of good intention, they can still feel hurtful. They can still create unnecessary guilt and shame.

And I can promise you, no one could be harder on me than I already am on myself.

If you live with chronic illness, you understand this kind of fatigue so intimately. Words can try to explain it… but they rarely capture what it actually feels like.

If this resonates with you, I’d love to hear you. How has fatigue changed your life?

Now published

Read: “We’re All Tired” - Part 3

Read: Choosing Me Was the Hardest Decision I’ve Ever Made

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Living with chronic illness can raise questions we don’t always feel comfortable asking out loud.

If there’s something you’re navigating, wondering about, or wishing someone would talk about, you can request it here.

Your voice can help shape the conversations happening within the Living with Latitude community.

If you missed The Story Behind Living with Latitude, you can catch up here..

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Understanding Fatigue

Tired isn’t the right word.
Exhausted doesn’t touch it.
Spent isn’t even close.

Fatigue and energy are one of the biggest continual challenges I’ve had to cope with. It’s not just rebuilding physically, but emotionally and mentally as well.

“We’re All Tired”.

Unless you’ve experienced it, you won’t fully understand the impact it has on the body. Explaining to your loved ones why everyday tasks use so much energy is already a challenge.

You don’t want to get too technical because not everyone understands medical jargon.

But you feel you need some medical terminology, for those who need the science behind it.

And now you need to find a unique way to explain it to the children from how you did your spouse or partner.

But the kids are aged five and ten, so you have to adjust those conversations.

That right there… was exhausting.

The Autonomic System

My body is required to work much harder to do what most people consider “normal” tasks. That’s why they cost more energy.

When you’re going about your day, do you think about your heart rate or your blood pressure? Whether you’re getting enough blood flow to your brain? Do you think about how much cortisol your body is producing and whether it’s adequate to handle any stress you have coming your way?

Most likely not.

When someone has a broken arm, wearing a cast makes it evident. There’s no sign on my shirt that says:

Warning! High Heart Rate: 160
Warning! High Blood Pressure: 140/90.

So, when someone says, “you don’t look sick”, they could be right.

By the time I may look sick …
I’m probably already on the floor.

This is your autonomic system. It’s all the things your body is supposed to run on autopilot.

My autopilot is shut off.

Understanding Energy

When most people think about energy they usually only think about the physical aspect of it; standing, walking, lifting. With chronic illnesses, like adrenal insufficiency and POTS Syndrome, energy is drawn from multiple different systems at once.

Hormonal/metabolic Energy - (autonomic)
Circulatory Energy - (autonomic)
Cognitive Energy
Emotional Energy

Emotional energy isn’t just about “feelings”. It regulates reactions, manages stress, copes with unpredictability, absorbs invalidating comments, and fuels self-advocacy. Cognitive energy powers concentration, decision making, problem solving, planning, and constant symptom tracking.

Why Everyday Tasks Require More Energy

Think of the apps on your phone. Even though they’re closed, some are still running in the background. Even though I’m “sitting still,” the apps are like symptom monitoring, decision-making, and emotional regulation, are draining the battery.

If you think of it in terms of cost.

One store may have an item for $5.
Another may sell it for $20.
We each have $100.

While you’re able to “buy” 20 items at your store, I’m only able to buy five items from mine. And don’t forget to add the service charge for the emotional or cognitive effort from constantly monitoring your autonomic system.

“How’s my heart rate?”
“Am I starting to feel dizzy?”
“Is this going to cause a crash later?”
“How much recovery time will this cost?”

Before I even start a task, my body is already:

· actively fighting gravity to keep blood flowing to my brain
· continuously adjusting heart rate and blood pressure
· manually managing stress without adequate cortisol
· trying to prevent dizziness, fainting, nausea, or confusion.

Simple tasks like showering, getting ready, cooking, or running errands are far more “expensive” because my body is continually compensating for these functions manually.

Recovery Costs Energy Too

After a task, my body needs to restabilize blood pressure and heart rate. It must restore glucose levels, reduce inflammation, and calm an activated nervous system. Inadequate or fluctuating cortisol means energy is not being released efficiently, muscles tire more quickly, and recovery takes longer.

Energy involves doing the task, but also surviving it and paying for it later.

“Just Push Through”

“You got this!”

If you love someone with chronic illness, I kindly ask you — please don’t say this.

In a healthy body, fatigue can build stamina over time. For someone with a chronic illness, pushing through will overwhelm and destabilize an already fragile system. It will deplete energy reserves, stealing it from future days, and cause longer deeper crashes.

Overexerting ultimately makes us less reliable, less stable, and more symptomatic.

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For everyone out there who has had to completely change the way they eat…

Be proud. Because you rock.

Most people will tell you that changing your eating habits is one of the hardest lifestyle shifts a person can make. Not just for individuals living with chronic illness, but for those trying to lose weight, manage allergies, navigate celiac disease, improve heart health, or simply feel better in their own body.

Food isn’t just fuel. It provides comfort, culture, and routine. Food is social and it’s everywhere, constantly tempting you to give in.

There’s No “Right” Way to Change Your Eating Habits

If you’re in the middle of making changes right now, take your time. Don’t get discouraged if you have a bad day. Or even a few bad days. Find what works for your body and your lifestyle.

Changing how you eat is like ripping off a Band-Aid. Some people pull it off all at once. Others peel it back slowly.

There’s nothing wrong with how you get there or how long it takes, as long as you’re moving forward.

My First Major Diet Change: Quitting Caffeine

After I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, and occipital neuralgia, I was ready to make a change. I was diagnosed mid-December. Starting January 1st, I cut caffeine completely. Cold turkey.

I was not a casual caffeine drinker. I lived on Diet soda and had just started getting into the Monster energy drinks. Cutting caffeine out drastically reduced my beverage selection.

I can’t drink coffee.
Juices have too much sugar.
Sparkling water just isn’t my cup of tea.
Oh, I don’t like tea either.

But eventually I adapted. My experience has led me to believe that if you can make it past the first week of headaches, fatigue, and irritability, then you’re golden! I’m still waiting to get past that first week of chips, pasta, and bread.

Haha, just kidding.

Sort of.

Searching for What Works

Over the next couple of years, I entertained the keto diet, and eliminated fast food — with the occasional cheat meal. But I was still struggling with serious digestive issues.

The raw truth?

I had severe constipation that would last 5–7 days at a time. I was bloated, uncomfortable, in pain, nauseous. I would frequently vomit because it felt as if food wasn’t digesting and just sitting in my chest.

It was miserable. I was miserable.

Cutting Out Processed Foods

After a lot of research, Googling, and self-education, I made another major shift as I cut out processed foods.

On day one, I downloaded Processed, a food scanner app. I went through my entire kitchen - refrigerator, freezer, and pantry. If it wasn’t whole or minimally processed, it went in the trash.

Maybe a little dramatic, but it felt empowering.

Switching to Whole and Minimally Processed Foods

Today, the majority of what I eat is whole or minimally processed.

It hasn’t been perfect.

Whether it’s a cheat meal, a cheat day, or three days in a row, I always get back on track. Overall, my digestion has improved and my body feels more supported.

For many people with chronic illness, focusing on whole foods and reducing processed ones can make a meaningful difference in how their body feels.

It was also good for mind.

Why Changing Your Diet Is So Difficult

Completely changing your eating habits is comparable to quitting smoking. Being around someone who smokes makes quitting harder. Just like it’s harder when someone eats a bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos right in front of you.

Food is everywhere. Celebrations revolve around it. Social gatherings revolve around it. Comfort revolves around it.

When you’re the only one making changes, it can feel isolating.

Which is why support matters more than people realize.

The Importance of Support When Changing Your Diet

If you have a significant other, friend, or family member who cleaned up their eating alongside you or just supported you during this challenge — give them a shout out.

Tell them how much it meant to you that they supported your health, especially when this wasn’t something you chose.

And if you’re doing this alone?

You now have a community that sees you.

You’re doing something incredibly difficult. And even if no one else notices the quiet discipline it takes to say no over and over again… it matters.

You matter. Keep going.

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If I’m not using my emergency injection, that does not mean I’m fine.

Most people are familiar with the medical term Adrenal Crisis. It’s the phrase doctors use. It’s the one that shows up all over the internet. It’s the emergency. While I do experience an adrenal crisis on occasion, I am frequently symptomatic.

What people don’t understand is this: if I’m not using my emergency injection, that does not mean I’m fine. There’s a whole spectrum of “not okay” that exists before a crisis — but I couldn’t find any language for it.

So, I created my own.

Not to replace the medical term, but to help the people closest to me understand what my body is doing and what I’m experiencing.

The Official Term: Adrenal Crisis

An Adrenal Crisis is a life-threatening cortisol deficiency.

It requires:

• An emergency injection

• Immediate medical care

• Rapid intervention

It’s not subtle, non-negotiable, and it’s dangerous.

What I Call an Adrenal Flare

An Adrenal Flare is when symptoms gradually begin to rise.

Fatigue deepens. Dizziness creeps in. Nausea lingers.

My body feels heavier than normal, but I can still function — technically. I can still go to work. I can complete the necessities. I can still show up.

But it costs more.

During a flare, I increase my hydrocortisone — what’s called stress dosing. Most of the time, that stabilizes things.

The important thing I have to remind myself of is that a flare is a warning. It’s like your car beeping when you’re in reverse and there’s something behind you.

It’s telling you to pay attention before you hit something.

What I Call an Adrenal Crash

Last year, about a week before Christmas, I had flares on and off for days. I was stress dosing. I was still working — but that’s about all I could manage.

As the week went on, I was less and less okay.

By Christmas Eve, it shifted. The exhaustion wasn’t just fatigue — it was depletion. Confined to my bed, I was dizzy, nauseous, and running a 104° fever.

That’s what I call an Adrenal Crash.

A crash is more severe than a flare. It’s a significant drop in cortisol levels that dramatically impairs function. Without proper and aggressive intervention, a crash can progress rapidly into a crisis.

When I crash, I double or triple my dose for several days. I monitor constantly. I pull back from everything nonessential.

Why I Created This Language

There’s a critical gap between “fine” and “emergency.” If people only understand what a crisis is, they assume everything else must be normal.

If I’m working, I must be doing well.
If I’m not injecting, I must be feeling okay.

But chronic illness doesn’t always operate at extremes. Most of the time, it’s a rollercoaster in the middle.

Living with adrenal insufficiency, among other chronic illnesses like POTS, Fibromyalgia, and Chronic Fatigue (CFS), means constantly calculating:

Am I okay?
Am I trending downward?
Do I increase my dose?
Maybe I should rest?
Is this a flare… a crash… or something more?

Most of the time, I’m somewhere in between — not in crisis, but not okay.

And that space deserves language, too.

Now Published: Choosing Me Was the Hardest Decision I’ve Ever Made. Read it here.

If this resonated, I’d be grateful if you shared it—someone else may need these words too.

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As a child, a teenager, and a young adult, I was always exceedingly active. I climbed everything — yes, even as a young adult! If it was fast and went high, I was on it.

I was a tomboy growing up. I enjoyed wrestling, playing video games, and just being one of the “guys.” Basketball was my passion, but I also enjoyed track and softball. Eventually, I fell in love with volleyball.

Outside of being physically active, I was independent, motivated, outgoing, and sociable. I wanted to try new things. Meet new people. Be spontaneous. Build something. Plan something. Do anything.

When my son was about five, his class made Mother’s Day projects. One of the questions was: “What does your mom do to relax?” His answer? “She doesn’t relax.” He was right. We were always doing something — outside, building forts, starting a Pinterest project. Rest wasn’t part of my vocabulary.

My Diagnosis (the short version)

Over the past 5 years, I’ve had a variety of severe symptoms. The extent of testing and procedures I’ve had is incredible. At one point, among all the IVs, blood tests, and infusions that I required, my arms were so severely bruised, and my veins were rejecting the needles.

I have been to multiple specialties, including neurology, cardiology, endocrinology, oncology, pain medicine, and more. Waiting rooms became part of my routine.

Of course, this did not include all the appointments with my primary care physician, urgent care and emergency room visits, or hospital stays. Fast forward to 2026, and here are the chronic illnesses that have devastatingly changed my life.

• 2021-2022: Fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue, and Occipital Neuralgia

• 2022–2023: Chronic Migraines and Myofascial Pain Syndrome

• 2023–2024: POTS Syndrome

• 2025: Adrenal Insufficiency

Now What?

I finally got these diagnoses, and now it feels like I’m being released into the wild with a few survival tips.

“Don’t drink caffeine, exercise, and improve your sleep.”

“Wear compression garments, eat a lot of salt, stay hydrated.”

“Use cold packs, take some ibuprofen, and stretch.”

“Make sure you take your medicine. Don’t take too much, but if you take too little, you can go into adrenal crisis.”

There is so much more to managing chronic illnesses. SO. MUCH. MORE. I find one of the hardest parts is when you have overlapping symptoms. When I’m dizzy and fatigued, do I increase my hydrocortisone because those are symptoms of adrenal insufficiency? Or do I put on some compressions and increase my salt intake, because it’s also a major symptom of POTS Syndrome? I’ve done both, and I’m still crashing… again, now what?

Raw

This is part of the unfiltered truth that needs to be told.

I am struggling.

Over the past several years, I have isolated myself more each day. I rarely see my friends. I miss family events. I’m afraid to make plans. Between working, raising a child who also has ongoing medical issues, being a single mom, and maintaining a home, I use every ounce of energy I have. And energy I don’t have.

I’m not living, I’m surviving.

The profound fatigue is so debilitating that I physically cannot complete tasks like making dinner, doing laundry, checking my son’s homework, or even showering and putting on makeup. The constant, agonizing pain that even wakes me when I’m sleeping. The dizziness, the nausea, the brain fog…

Emotions

…the emotional impact.

I feel angry.

I’m angry that I can’t do everything I used to do. Angry that I can’t function at the pace I once did. Angry with the doctors who kept telling me, “It’s anxiety”. I’m angry at myself when I miss work, and when I miss my son’s sporting events.

I feel lost.

I don’t know who I am anymore. I was always the person who was ready to conquer the day. The employee who worked 70 hours a week. The mom who made quality time with her child. The daughter, the sister, and the friend that you could depend on. The girlfriend who enjoyed showering you with love. The athlete, the artist, the bookworm, the go-getter.

I feel alone.

I’m standing still, while the rest of the world keeps moving.

Some days I feel defeated, other times broken. In full transparency, there are days I feel hopeless.

Awareness…

I’m still learning and understanding what this “new life” requires and how to thrive in it.

I don’t want to be seen as a victim. I need empathy. It’s difficult for family and friends to understand the impact when they don’t have the knowledge. Many of the symptoms are invisible, and I am sick of hearing:

“We’re all tired.”
“Just push through it.”
“You don’t look sick.”

This isn’t laziness or lack of motivation. It’s capacity. Pushing through is the last thing I should do. Many chronic illnesses are lifelong illnesses without a cure.

I don’t need you to “fix me”.

I only want your support in navigating through the major changes that have turned my world upside down.

Latitude: Why I’m Here…

I’m not the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve. I’m not an open book. I don’t talk about my feelings, and trust doesn’t come easily. I’m not good at asking for help, and I’ve always believed it was my job to hold everything together.

I know there are so many others living this same reality.

I’m not here to promise that everything will be okay. I can’t know that. I am here to say:

You are not alone.
You are valuable.
It’s okay to feel any and all emotions you’re carrying.

There is a community of people who understand.

Living with latitude doesn’t mean pretending this is easy.

It means allowing space — for grief and anger, for hope and resilience — all at once.
It means choosing compassion over judgment.
It means learning how to navigate this life together. Not only with those who suffer from chronic illness, but with those who don’t.

Let’s speak honestly.
Let’s open up.
Let’s bring awareness.
Let’s live with latitude.

This is R.E.A.L.