Inspired into a Funk.

Having a tough time...
Friday, I had big plans. Well, not for the average person, but for me, or anyone with M.E., yes; I'd planned on running errands, vacuuming, and performing key girly grooming rituals. (Probably far too much to ask for in one day, but I was determined!) Instead, I manged to check my e-mail and make some phone calls before that raging fever of weeks past paid me another visit. (Spots are mostly gone, although my chest pain keeps coming back, possibly from sitting up unsupported to use my laptop in bed?) So I supplemented, medicated the fever away, and rested, waking up in time to watch some of the Olympics Opening Ceremonies, which I love (can't believe it's my second Olympics here, incredible) and I think that was the key culprit. I adore seeing all those cultures together, in peace, and hearing the amazing stories. But this time, it also reminded me of all the dreams I've been forced to put aside.

Fortunately, by taking all the immune supplements I could, particularly, I believe , regular doses of ProBoost Thymic Protein (along with my regular doses of others) every few hours with my acetaminophen, by Saturday I was able to at least shower and do my hair. For some reason, despite the fact that I rarely ever put on more than eyeliner and lipstain lately, I decided to go the extra mile with my makeup, mascara, kohl eyeliner & smokey shadow, along with base and powder on the rest of my face. It made my eyes look so distinctly brown, and large, and so much like my mother when she was my age, and then I got silly and took pictures, because it seemed like such a waste that no one should see the fruits of my labor, despite the fact that I always roll my eyes at pictures of people taking pictures of themselves. I then wasted so much time on that, I tired myself out & didn't get to the store before closing. That's when the funk really began. I'm just so tired of not living. A couple of the pictures came out so well they didn't even look like me, really, but even the ones that did...to look at me, you'd think there was so much potential. You can't see that I spend 75% of my hours in some form of physical discomfort, or that I'm ridiculously weak, sickly, and almost constantly tired. That's not me.
And I miss me.
I miss being strong, steady on my feet, and knowing if I really wanted to I could have a chance of having a 4 pack, being able to clean my home in one day without fearing the vacuum cleaner, and then go out for some fun after. I miss squeezing every bit of fun out of the summer sun & nights, being able to take advantage of living in one of the most fabulous places on the planet; going to the beach, the mountains, the desert, or the city at my pleasure. I miss working, feeling accomplished every day, having a paycheck to look forward to, and a future to plan for, and the knowing I could do anything I set my mind to. I want back all the years I've missed out on, all the concerts I've missed, all the making memories with my friends, being a part of my familes' lives. I can't believe I've been here, as if in some kind of time-out, for FOUR years, as if the previous few of grasping for some sort of normalcy weren't enough. I'm tired of life passing me by, sitting around with my mind running in circles, trying to find a way out of this state, grasping at ways to be happy and things to be happy about, being so willing to settle for some peace and tranquility, or at least, trying not to be miserable.

I watched the Olympic Cyclists, and I know in any life I never would have been one of them, but I'd at least like to be able to do more than ride my bike around the block in circles for 10 minutes, only to spend 15 on the lawn recovering, weak, and heart beating out control and be turned off trying it again until the air had gone from the tires from disuse.

And always, the sneaking suspicion slinks in, maybe I'm not trying hard enough. Maybe I'm so worn out from failing I'm not approaching things in the right manner. But I'm tired, and sometimes I feel like a wild horse that's been unskillfully broken; angry and fearful of everyone who approaches, completely out of control. And I envy all those young, dewy-eyed Olympians, all their hard work, their hopes, goals, and dreams. But I'm so worn out, I don't think I can even be properly angry about it...