Do you ever find yourself pondering your next blog post, or to-do list, during sleepless nights? It’s a good way to pass the time, but I have to admit, unless I write those middle-of-the-night thoughts down, they are often lost to the daylight. Last week’s post, which had been written and rewritten, mentally, was going to be about how my partner has been working from home during the pandemic, and because of that he’s seeing first-hand the true toll that MECFS and its comorbidities are taking on me. He’s suggested repeatedly that maybe it’s time for me to hang up my blogging gloves, as it’s incredibly exhausting for me, but for some reason I feel it’s important to press on. Some might say I’m stubborn like that, other’s might too. 😉 If I start something, I’m finishing it, or going down trying.
Last week’s post ended up being about something totally different, so the above idea was shelved. Truthfully there just isn’t much more to say. My partner has been working from home since March and will be for at least the rest of the year. If you consider that I’ve been home alone all day every weekday for years, it’s clearly been an adjustment, for both of us. It’s shown him first-hand, in 24-hour chunks, my rises and falls, the stuff I used to kind of try to hide away (like changing out of jammies by five so he didn’t think I’d been in them all day). The mornings are really rough for me, but he was rarely around to see them as he’s a rise with the rooster’s kind of person, but now he sees it literally takes me hours from opening my eyes to having tea. Before I was ill we used to get up first thing on weekend mornings and go to breakfast to beat the rush, so this isn’t typical behavior for me. He’s also seen what happens if I have an early appointment and must rise and shine. Needless to say, it’s not at all shiny. I feel like a swamp monster, and it takes me days to recover. He’s also seen what zaps my energy, how fragile I actually am. He knew before but he’d never seen it as up close.
I’m a push myself until I crash kind of person. I really try not to be but sometimes I get so utterly frustrated (staring at the same four walls for years on end isn’t as glamorous as it sounds ;)), I do little things anyway. There are also those unavoidable things that happen, that have to be attended to immediately, like the time I dropped a full bottle of syrup on the floor and it shattered and syrup went everywhere, like evvverywhere, or last week when I shattered my glass water bottle (my hands are weak and my spatial awareness is off so I’m like a bull in a china shop). He’s not really one to run and jump to my aid (partly because I’m an I’ll do it myself kind of person), but lately I’ve seen a difference there. He did jump up as my water bottle crashed into a million tiny pieces, telling me not move as I was surrounded by glass shards. Because little things like that, unplanned exertions, they end up taking most of my energy for the day, and he’s starting to see that now. It’s NOT that he doesn’t care or wasn’t paying attention, it’s more that this illness is unbelievably pervasive and cruel, and you wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it firsthand. He knows I’ll push myself until I’m flat on my back for an indeterminant amount of time, and now he’s learning how to help me pace more efficiently.
Am I going to hang up my blogging gloves? No. My posts might be a little shorter from here on out, but I’m going to stick with it as long as I’m able. One of the things that keeps me going is that I would have LOVED if my mom had kept a blog so I could go back and read about her life, and so this blog, someday, a long, long time from now, will provide my son with a peak into my life, through my own words. He skims my posts now, but then they will likely be most important to him.
Thank you for popping by today! Hoping wherever you are in the world, today is treating you kindly. Take good care of yourself, and others (thank you for wearing a mask ~ from someone who is neuroimmune compromised). A few more doodles. 🌺