I had a severe relapse in March of this year and symptoms wise ended up back where I was about 7 or 8 years ago. That was heartbreaking and I'm still coming to terms with the profound difference in the quality of life I experienced in 2006 compared to that of the past 8 months. Frustration doesn't even begin to describe the emotions.
But over the last few months things have started to improve. The pain has gradually lessened and I've been blessed with more energy. I've been able to get out of the house more, get back to a bit of volunteering, attend church regularly and go out with friends for a meal. I really thought that I'd turned a corner. Talk about counting your chickens.
The last few days have been horrible. The severe pain has returned, my extra strong painkillers take the edge off but I'm also incredibly tired. I'm still in some sort of denial stage. I know that I should be resting regularly and pacing myself more sensibly, but something inside me just wants to keep pushing, convinced that despite all evidence and experience to the contrary I can just fight my way through it. Unfortunately the only effective way to fight M.E. is to do the exact opposite. I have to accept the situation and act accordingly. Hence the frustration.
I'm not usually one to moan. My blog is probably indicative of this. I'm more likely to make a joke and laugh through the crisis than sit around feeling sorry for myself. The problem is that the illness leaves me with few other options. I'm pretty much restricted to sitting around at the moment and moping comes very easily in that situation.
I'm trying to think of something uplifting to end on but nothing's coming to me. Perhaps a silly, unrelated picture? That sounds good.
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