Here Comes The Sun: Just When I Start Feel Alive-the Storm Rages Back | Coping with life-altering events and chronic illness support.

Tonight, I had one of those beautiful evenings.

I was embracing life. I was enjoying myself.

I was singing.

For a little while, I wasn’t thinking about symptoms or medications or pain.

I was simply living.

I was singing along with the Beatles song

"Here Comes the Sun."

And then—Just like that.

The raging storm was back.

a massive headache hit.

And suddenly, all I wanted was the sun.

Not metaphorically.

Not philosophically.

I wanted it right then.

I didn’t just hear it as a song anymore.

I felt it.

I wanted it.

I desperately wanted to believe it.

I wanted the pain to stop.

I wanted my head to stop pounding.

I wanted my body to give me a break.

I wanted to go back to that moment when I was singing and laughing and feeling like myself.

Holding my head in pain, and I was desperately singing over and over

Here comes the sun.

Here comes the sun.

Here comes the sun.

I wanted to believe that if I just sang it enough somehow the sun would return, that everything was going to be all right

And this is where chronic illness can be so incredibly frustrating.

Just when I think I’ve figured something out…something changes.

Just when I find a rhythm. A routine. A way of coping. A way of thriving.

The storm finds another way to hit me. And suddenly, I have to figure it out again.

What helps.

What doesn’t.

What my body needs.

What I need to let go of.

What I need to change.

What I need to accept.

For a moment, it can feel like I’m starting all over again.

But maybe I’m not.

And that’s when I started thinking about how much I’ve learned about thriving inside the storm. Because I really do feel like I’ve figured some of this out.

I’ve learned what helps.

I’ve found rhythms.

I’ve learned to listen to my body.

I’ve learned to embrace the good moments instead of waiting for everything to be perfect.

I’ve learned how to live my life inside the storm.

Lately, there have been some really wonderful things happening in my life.

I have felt hopeful. I’ve laughed and sung and embraced life. Moments when I’ve thought, Maybe I’m getting this. Maybe I’ve figured out how to do this. This is what thriving inside the storm looks like. Not that the storm has gone away. But that somehow, I have learned how to live inside it.

And then—

the storm changes.

A new challenge I never saw coming.

A new symptom.

A new medication.

A new kind of pain.

And suddenly, I have to figure it out again.

I have to learn how to meet this version of the storm. Not because I failed at thriving.

But because the storm keeps changing.

Maybe that’s one of the hardest things about chronic illness. It’s not simply that the storm keeps coming. It’s that the storm keeps changing and I have to keep changing with it.

But I’m learning something.

I’m not starting over.

Everything I’ve already learned comes with me. The storm may have changed.

What I need may have changed. But I haven’t lost everything I’ve learned about myself.

Maybe this is what thriving inside the storm really looks like. 

Not finally figuring it all out.

Not becoming so good at living with chronic illness that nothing knocks me off balance anymore. But learning how to find my footing again when the storm changes. And maybe that’s why this song meant so much to me at that moment. Because I know what it feels like to feel the sun.

I’ve felt it.

I’ve been living it. I’ve been embracing my life. And when the storm suddenly takes that feeling away, I desperately want to find my way back to the sun.

But maybe the fact that the storm came back doesn’t mean I stopped thriving.

Maybe having a terrible night doesn’t erase the beautiful evening that came before it.

Maybe pain doesn’t cancel joy.

Maybe a setback doesn’t cancel progress.

Maybe needing to adjust again doesn’t mean I have failed.

I can be grateful for the beautiful things happening in my life and still desperately want relief from the pain. I can be learning how to embrace life and still have moments when I’m exhausted from having to keep adapting to it. I can know that I’ve learned so much about living inside this storm and still wish, with everything in me, that the sun would come out.

And maybe that’s okay.

Maybe thriving means I still desperately wish the storm would let up. Maybe thriving means I don’t have to be okay with the storm just because I have learned to live inside it.

I can long for relief.

I can hope.

I can cry.

I can say, I don’t want this today.

Today, I’m hurting.

Today, the storm feels very loud.

And I am still here.

Still hoping.

Still listening.

Still looking for what helps.

Still believing there can be beautiful moments again. And maybe that’s enough for today.

Because I don’t have to pretend the sun is already shining. I can simply keep believing it will.

Here comes the sun.

I want it.

I need it.

And I’m going to keep looking for it—

even from inside the storm.

A Few Thoughts to Sit With

1. Where have you felt a little bit of “sun” lately?

It doesn’t have to be something big. A song. A conversation. A laugh. A beautiful evening. A moment when you forgot about your illness for a while.

2. What happens inside you when the storm suddenly returns after you’ve been having a good day?

Do you feel disappointed? Angry? Defeated? Afraid? Or are you beginning to recognize that a difficult moment doesn’t erase the good one?

3. What have you learned about yourself from the storms you’ve already lived through? What do you know now that you didn’t know before?

4. When something changes and you feel like you’re starting over, can you remind yourself: I’m not starting over. Everything I’ve already learned comes with me.What have you already learned that might help you meet this version of the storm?

5. What does “the sun” mean to you right now?

Is it relief? Less pain? A good day? Hope? Connection? Feeling like yourself again? Or something completely different?

6. Can you allow yourself to want the sun without feeling like you’re failing at thriving inside the storm?

You can be grateful for the life you have.

You can be learning to thrive.

You can find beautiful moments.

And still desperately want the storm to pass.

Those things can exist together.

You don’t have to find an answer today.
Sometimes noticing what you need is enough.

Coping with life altering events and chronic illness support