This Is Me Trying: The Silent Anthem of Chronic Illness

 

This Is Me Tired (Fibromyalgia Version)

Taylor Swift’s This Is Me Trying has always resonated with me, but living with fibromyalgia gives it a whole new, deeply personal meaning. Some days, just existing feels like an Olympic event. Every movement, every task, every interaction takes effort — even if it doesn’t look like it from the outside. And yet, I keep showing up. That, to me, is the essence of trying.

Fibromyalgia is invisible, and so is the effort it demands. Rolling out of bed, preparing a simple meal, or answering a text message can feel monumental. But even when my body resists, I keep going. Even when my energy dips into the negatives, I push forward, one slow step at a time. Every attempt is a small victory, even if it’s quiet and unseen.

This Is Me Trying captures the bittersweet struggle of being fully present in a world that doesn’t always see your battles. Sometimes I get frustrated at my limitations, sometimes I cry over the things I can’t do, and sometimes I celebrate the tiniest accomplishments — like making it through a day without collapsing into bed too early.

The song also reminds me that effort is valid, even without visible results. I don’t need applause to know I’m doing my best. Fibromyalgia doesn’t allow me to always be “perfect” or “productive,” but it has taught me the power of resilience, patience, and compassion toward myself.

So, when I listen to Taylor’s lyrics, I nod knowingly. I’m trying, quietly, persistently, with humor, grace, and sometimes a little stubbornness. Fibromyalgia may slow me down, and flares may hit unexpectedly, but I am still here, still moving forward, still trying. And that, my friends, is worth celebrating — even if it’s in the silence.

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