Yesterday I got angry…

…and it felt good.  From the start of this illness, I’ve been mostly compliant, waiting for it to go whilst I go about my usual life. But the realisation a week or so ago that I would have to change my lifestyle to accommodate this ‘illness’ annoyed me.  Which is dumb, because accommodating this illness will make me feel better.  But I still just want it to go away.

I’ve thrashed about trying all sorts of things, I’ve lowered the dose of the anti inflammatory’s so I don’t have a bad taste in my mouth anymore.  Some pain has returned but I prefer pain to fatigue and it’s not as bad as it was a month ago.  I’ve cut down alcohol to barely a glass a week but that’s mainly because it just damn well makes you feel tireder.  I thought about cutting out sugar out of my endless cups of tea but I can’t cut out the chocolate.  I’m trying to eat more red meat in case I’m anaemic and I’m trying not to force myself into situations I don’t enjoy.  I used to revel in getting stuff done; fitting in 5 meetings in two days with looking after a child, finishing an assignment at 11pm the night before it was due and going out for dinner with a friend the next day. Easy.
Being busy made me feel useful and it did achieve a lot.  But a lot of what?

Last night I dreamt I was caught in a bushfire and was actually part of the fire-fighting team, but I had the wrong shoes on.  I’d set off to fight the fire without them on and only realised as the buses were about to take us to the fire front.  I ran back to my tent to get them but got lost, not even remembering what I was looking for anymore.  Before that I was trying to shower in a dark mouldy bathroom and the shower curtain was slimy and huge and kept trying to stick to my face and suffocate me.  A psychologist would no doubt have a field day with these.

The last 2 days have featured some beautiful clear spans of energy and I don’t want to hope that it might continue because the thought of the fatigue returning 100% fills me with dread.  I still struggle to stand up from a crouch and hold my arms up to hang washing.  But both today and yesterday I felt for decent chunks of time that I could do it.  It’s unbelievably wonderful to wake up not completely exhausted with my arms stinging and humming with a used, lactic acid feeling.

My energy dipped in the middle of the day today.  ‘Oh, it’s gone again’ I thought, feeling so sad.  Perhaps I’m on a path that I wanted to walk down but was afraid and perhaps my body is taking me there now.  It’s had enough of listening to me whinge about what I want to do or should be doing and it’s just trying to take me there.  Change feels like fear when you first experience it, they say, and I’m afraid.
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