Reflections

It's 18 December 2009. Roughly this time last year, I was stressing over the thought of spending Christmas with people who don't like me (i.e., my boyfriend's family). This year, I'm not as stressed, although I do have a niggling fear that Christmas, as usual, may not be a happy one.

But that's not related to CFS. Or is it? Looking back, it seems like this time last year, I didn't talk very much about my physical incapabilities. Perhaps I simply got tired of droning on. But it makes me wonder if now - a year on - my ability to recover completely is being hampered by not my physical capibilities, but not knowing what my physical limits are.

In these past few months, I have been rockclimbing, going on field trips to help with studies on birds, going on weekend-long camping trips, walking my dog, and volunteering at two offices. I wouldn't say I've been inactive in the slightest.

So, how am I not normal? Well, I do ache, though not as badly as before. And I do rest a lot - but wouldn't anyone with a lifestyle like mine?

I wonder if my need to rest can be lessened by toning down on my activities, and my aches can be fixed by eating right (lots of veggies, no wheat, no sugar, no dairy, among other things) - I haven't been strict with my diet.

Maybe it should be my new year's resolution to tone it down a bit and eat well. Maybe after eating well, and not doing things around the clock, I'll have more energy to focus on getting fitter, and ultimately, more 'normal'.

In any case, I've come a long way in a year. All things considered, it has been a great year of recovery.

To tell or not to tell?

Life is generally beautiful. I'm recovering, I think.

There are two mini-challenges facing me now. The first is knowing how far I can push myself. The second is knowing whether or not to tell my new friends about my health.

Because I can more or less do everything a "normal" person can now, generally I can get by without having to say anything about CFS.

But being the idiot that I am, I joined an outdoor club recently. I've made a lot of new friends, but being an outdoor club means its activities demand a reasonable level of fitness.

This means I don't always perform as well as the others, and I can lag behind on walks. I think this is reasonable given that not very long ago I could barely walk from my bed to the toilet. But how do I explain that to people who ask why I'm not walking faster? And is it appropriate to explain?

I'm reluctant to mention "chronic" and "fatigue" in one sentence. There's just too much judgement associated with the illness. People might ask, is she really sick? Or is she just making it up? I find it far easier to say that I don't want to get into the details, but essentially I was very sick for two years and basically bedridden almost the entire time.

Really, I wish I didn't have to explain. But I suppose it's just part of the recovery process. Perhaps if I continue to look after myself and heed my doctor's advice, a day will come when I won't have anything to explain.

Learn to say "No"

I'm up and running (well, not running; walking) again, although I still feel like I'm running on empty.

Right now, I have no choice but to keep going. My thesis submission date is approaching fast, and my first draft isn't complete. I just keep telling myself I can rest when my uni semester is over.

In the meantime, I've learnt to say "No". Like many CFS patients, I'm one of those over-committed over-achievers; I try to do far too much with too little time. On top of that, I find it difficult to say "No" when people more of me.

But at busy times like this, I simply have to.