I feel like a different person. It may only be a few weeks ago but she – the sad and unwell shadow of me – already seems like a stranger. If I stop and force my mind, I can take myself to her: I was so exhausted even having a shower was a major effort; I was so stressed that tears were on permanent standby, ready to fall at the smallest upset; I felt desperate, crawling slowly through each day. I did my best to trust that the situation was temporary and that it – the heavy black cloud of CFS – would lift, but when you are feeling this awful you don’t believe you will ever feel normal again.
But I do. And it’s glorious. GLORIOUS.
It may be the physical that takes you down, but somewhere, in the messiness and unpleasantness of being unwell, the mind gets in on the act, and you get stuck – and in my experience it’s the mind that plays a big part of getting you unstuck and out the other side. Continue reading