Home / Blog Posts / Fatigue and the Black Dog / Diary of a Chronically Exhausted Vicar. Episode 7

So I’ve had the diagnosis: glandular fever and low iron.
I’ve had the iron infusion.
To be honest, nothing much has changed.

Diary of a chronically exhausted vicar image

There have been some days this past week when I have felt a little more like myself; when I have had more energy, clearer thinking, less aches and pains.

And there have also been days when my glands are still screaming in discomfort and pain, when I’ve had to come home and have a nap after lunch, when my muscles have ached and my mind has refused to switch on.

I have prepared and presented a talk and a two-session workshop this week; drafted a job description for a position we will advertise soon; been present for people, sent off a book submission, written an abstract for a conference presentation, and prepared midweek musing blog posts for a month in advance. And I have napped several afternoons away, slumped in front of the tv most evenings, and slept in on more than one occasion.

Today, with the sun shining, I thought I would wash sheets and towels. I got a little bit of inspiration to clean the house, too. That’s something I’ve done far less often than I would like in recent months.

But changing the bed, putting a few loads of laundry through, tidying and dusting the whole house, vacuuming half of it so far, and washing the past three days’ worth of dishes, and I feel like I have run a 10k marathon.

This continues to be a struggle and a challenge, the striving for balance, knowing what is best to do to energise myself and to heal.