Tired

I am so tired.

I am tired of living in my bed. I am tired of not being able to have a job. I am tired of feeling like shit. I am tired of being depressed. I am tired of being angry. I am tired of struggling. I am tired of doing nothing. Mostly I'm tired of living a life of existing and surviving.

Life wasn't supposed to be this hard. I wasn't supposed to be trapped inside my body unable to live a 'normal' life. I wasn't supposed to have to spend all my energy on fighting myself just to keep on living.

So yes, I'm bloody tired.

I also know that wishing this wasn't my life isn't helping anyone. Most of the time I am able to accept that; this is the life I have to live.  But every now and then it's okay not to be happy with the situation I'm in.  Every now and then it's okay to hate the life I've been stuck with.

Tomorrow will be a new day, a new start. Today I'm hate this existence for it isn't living. Tomorrow I will remember I'm able to live, at least a little bit, and that will be enough - tomorrow.

Treacled Mind

While I wouldn't necessarily classify today as a 'bad' day, it definitely isn't a 'good' day. My first thought was it felt like my body was in a vat of treacle as I have to struggle through every movement. However, this isn't exactly right, as while my body is heavy, it can move like usual. Instead of my body moving through treacle, it's my mind that has to use the effort it would need if I was stuck in treacle (just to clarify, this is all based on assumption as I've never actually been stuck in a vat of treacle!); every movement requires almost all my concentration and mental energy regardless of how it physically feels.

I don't have these days too often, and yet when I have them I find I am more inspired than usual. The prolonged stillness and struggle to even form thoughts somehow leaves space for the really interesting stuff to rise in my mind. Of course, I then have to decide whether it's worth the pain and struggle of writing it down (I am trying to get into using my dictaphone but I'm really bad at remembering to check it afterwards) as otherwise it will quickly sink, being swallowed by the treacle encasing my mind.

A Momentous 'Coffee'

Yesterday I went for a 'coffee' (actually I had a chai latte but it was way too sweet so I got an iced drink) with a friend.

It doesn't sound like a lot, but to me it was a huge deal. To go for a coffee meant getting the bus by myself and then relying on my legs to get me to Costa, back to the bus stop afterwards and then home when I got off the bus, not to mention sitting and chatting for ages. I also managed a walk around Poundland as well (where I picked up some very cute cupcake cases) which is in incredible.  I know it probably wasn't my smartest idea as I am planning to go out tonight, and already I am feeling the pain from doing too much; but at least I now know I can do it.

I know I have been improving since moving into my new flat, though sometimes it feels as though I am taking steps backwards instead of forwards. I have known it, and am hopeful, but yesterday was the first time I imagined that I could really get my life back the way it was before.  I know I still have a long way to go, but I'm starting to really believe it, as opposed to simply acknowledging it.

Of course I will likely always have to be aware of my M.E. - it isn't a disability that disappears completely - but I'm starting to imagine a life with a job and a social life (that isn't retained to Twitter) and I can't wait to be 'normal' again.

So going for a coffee may not be a big deal to everyone, but for me it is another hurdle I've finally managed to cross.