Chronic Fatigue is not only the physical pain, discomfort, and difficulty in moving your body, nor that your body feels ten times heavier than it is. Chronic Fatigue is also your mind feeling that weight of the body, and perceiving the possibility of moving your body as inconceivable. Almost inconceivable. For I am lucky enough that I can move, still, through the pain and discomfort, to answer nature’s call, get myself food and drink, even write, so long as I am sitting still.

Until.

fatigue and the black dog

Chronic Fatigue is also the mental pain, cloudiness, incapacitation. Then, it’s lie under the weighted blanket and rest. Then, I can’t cope with reading, or listening to words or music. At that point, it is silence, stillness, and the dark.

I’m in another season of recovery, with its do se do of good days when I push too far, and the inevitable bad, when I feel even my glands throbbing in pain.

In this season, the bad days might fall on days when I have plans to spend time with friends, to walk, to discover, to play. And then they become sad days, because I don’t like to cancel on my friends. I don’t like to miss out on the fun.

Should I take more care on the better days, not take risks with upcoming days of fun?

Perhaps.

But I must move forward with my healing. And that means I must push a little to know what is possible. Who knew healing is risky? The risk of setbacks. The risk of pain. The risk of bad days, for the hope of more better ones.