More than once I’ve been asked that question. Once I was asked that by a supervisor who was giving me the side eye and looking to write me up as though I had deliberately done something over a weekend to cause myself pain and excuse my lowered productivity.
It’s not like I recklessly jumped off the loading dock, or spent my weekends drinking and drugging, or even planted daffodils to cheer up the grey of a prolonged winter.
As far as I can tell, I don’t cause my flares. Flares happen. Perhaps it was an errant virus trying to latch on to my chemically weakened immune system. Perhaps it was my my smarter-than-me phone updating and resetting all of my defaults. I don’t know. Nobody knows.
What I know is that I hurt. I can’t think straight. I can’t cope. My sleep is disturbed. And there is no getting a pass on the responsibilities of the day. I am upright, warm, and breathing. Some days that’s all you get.
I didn’t “Do” anything. I’m just having a damned flare!