Joanna Jeanine’s Diary Entry #8

Lately, I’ve been grappling with a deep sense of fatigue — it’s as if my entire body is weighed down by something heavier than exhaustion. The illness I carry feels relentless, creeping into every corner of my daily life. Even the most ordinary things, comforts I used to rely on, now seem unfamiliar, almost alien. I wonder if these changes come from the lesions in my brain; it’s unsettling to realize that what’s happening inside me is reshaping how I see the world. This loss of familiarity brings a quiet fear. I worry about the possibility of losing my mobility, about the day I might be unable to walk or care for myself. The thought of losing my independence, of relying on others for simple tasks, haunts me. Still, I refuse to let these fears stop me. I’m determined to keep moving forward, to press on despite the challenges. Amid all this uncertainty, my special project has become a beacon. Organizing my writings, giving myself something meaningful to focus on, has brought a sense of purpose and hope. As I prepare this new work, I picture them resonating with others, maybe giving them comfort or understanding. That hope — that my words might reach someone — is what keeps me going.