Positivity without profound cognitive dissonance

It is true that I shouldn’t need a label of “art” to elevate an activity to something meaningful or of value. But the mental gymnastics required to reject society’s expectations of acceptable use of your time is too exhausting. Educating others on why it’s not possible to be living a life out and about in the world is exhausting. Constantly monitoring and pushing back on your internal critique is exhausting.

Too tired to be inspired

Inspirational, quotes, mantras, motivational mottos and affirmations have their place in providing us with a way to refocus to the present or the positive, give hope, perspective courage or peace. If utilised at the right time they can be transformative. But on the bad days, words of wisdom need a little more lived experience of chronic conditions, a little more ME/CFS context to the grand aspirational proclamations.

Acceptance Part 2 – Apparently acceptance looks like a sleeping mud maid

It all relates back to the complexity of acceptance for those with ME/CFS. People treat it like a concept or goal to be achieved yet it’s an emotion that therefore cannot be a permanent state. We all contain multitudes.

Is acceptance the key or the lock?

There is a constant knot in the pit of my stomach. Hidden in the dark murky place where emotions mix and churn as they evade logic and reason. Holding onto one end of the knot is the person I am now, tugging at the other end is the person I want to be. Accepting I have to let go of the person I want to be is in theory the pathway towards the chronic illness jackpot of psychological flexibility.

#MillionsMissing

I actually thought I was used to being missing, that I’d found a way to adjust to my reality. I honestly thought it would only take a few minutes to fill out the #MMSelfies form as part of the millions missing campaign for ME/CFS Awareness Day. The form developed by Emerge Australia asked for a response to a simple question – What are you missing from?

Reaching for something, over and over again

Two things can be true, I can empathise deeply with peoples loss and at the same time feel the sting of watching others mourn what has been lost to me for so long. Those of us who have been housebound for a while understand their grief and bewilderment that this could be their lives now, so small, so confined, everything tantalising just out of reach.