…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.