As I skip along my healing path, being present, living in the moment (yes, I have been reading The Power of Now, and yes, I am a healing cliché), I know I shouldn’t have checked, that there was nothing to be gained by knowing. But… well, I have no good reason, I just got curious: it’s been nearly six months since I have been well enough to see any friends or family (well, apart from my husband, obviously, or that would just be weird). And, as I knew would be the case, knowing this has not helped me in any way. But, too late, I know.
I have missed birthday lunches with my girlfriends. I have missed Friday evening drinks and loud laughing – probably too loud for others close by – with friends as we let in the weekend fun. I have missed weekends away. I have missed family celebrations. Continue reading →
So, that damn Tigger is being rather elusive. Despite intensive Green and Black’s therapy, and okay, I admit, some wine therapy too, the bugger is nowhere to be seen, and I appear to be having a pretty serious relapse. (Oh yeah, my recovery plan is totally on track!)
But something weird is going on – I seem to have found a sense of peace with what has happened and, dare I say, a level of acceptance. I know it sounds ridiculous, but even after all these years, I have always struggled to accept the CFS. I’ve always wanted to fight it, scared that acceptance would in some way be giving in. But this time I feel Continue reading →
As a child if you wanted something to read (or you were being forced encouraged to read by your over zealous parents who wanted to make sure you were on the track to greatness, at seven) you were probably taken to the library; I was taken to the garage.
My dad worked in publishing for all of his working life, and as a result, we were always surrounded by books: shelves were stacked high around the house and the garage was always full of boxes of books. My brother and I were always encouraged – although not forced! – to read, and from an Continue reading →