What I Need

Understanding.
I feel cared for when someone researches adrenal fatigue to try to understand my situation.  I want people to know it's not just feeling tired (it's feeling completely drained!), it's also insomnia, narcolepsy, muscle pain, joint trouble, new allergies, hypoglycemia, indigestion, and grief for time I keep losing, and that's just the beginning.  Frustration that I can't do more or be more.  I don't want to be pitied, just understood.
Trust.
When I don't show up, it isn't because I don't care, or I'm not trying hard enough.  I'm not drifting away.  I'm not going to drift away.  Remember what you know about me: Have I ever drifted away?  Haven't I always done my best?  Have I ever dropped the ball in a major way?  I do what I can.  Trust me to keep doing what I can, and even though it doesn't look like much to you now, it's my best.
Rest.
If I make a trip to town today, I may not be able to make a trip to town tomorrow.  If I have a heavy workload at home, I'm unlikely to be much help elsewhere, at least for a while.  What looks like laziness, is recovery time.
Inclusion.
It's really nice when someone fills me in on the details or texts me the highlights or emails me the announcements I missed.  It feels great to be invited even when you doubt I'll be able to make it, and to be able to decline and know I'll be missed but not judged...even if it's over and over again.
Time.
This isn't a "disease" I recently contracted.  It has been a lifelong struggle for which I have only recently received diagnosis and ongoing treatment.  There has been physical and emotional damage that can heal with the right tools in the right environment.  There isn't a pill that can fix it.  Be patient with me.  I have to be patient with me too, and if I can do it, you can do it.  I've come a long way already, and I still have a long way to go.
Benefit of the Doubt.
I hear often that people are concerned about me, but only through the grapevine.  That feels demeaning to me.  If you worry about me, stop it.  My closest friends aren't worried about me.  That's because they talk to me.  They stop by.  They call.  They text.  They email.  We hang out or work together when we can.  They know what's happening in my life.  There are a dozen ways to reach me.  Use one.
Humor.
Laughter is medicine.  When I lost my job, my friend Ruth gave me a card full of work-related cartoons.  It made everything bearable!  Laugh with me, tell me a (clean) joke, share your most-embarrassing moments, lighten up with me.
Family.
My husband and sons and daughters are in this with me.  They're supporting me and picking up the slack.  I can't share them with you as often as you like.  We're not living a normal life right now, but we are trying to keep things as routine as possible.  Give my husband some room!  He's working early mornings and long, hot weeks and trying to keep things running on the homestead and still maintain friendships and help others as much as he can.  My family needs the same things I need.  Be the one to offer them.