It’s unlikely that Scotland’s national poet of 1759-1796 knew anyone with a documented case of what is now known as CFS or ME, but the words fit anyway. A little unpredictability keeps life interesting, but total, constant unpredictability, well, that’s a whole other story.
I thought that the new year was going to get off to a flying start as I was feeling better than I had for a long, long time. Possibly the best since being knocked off my feet in December of 2004. Hours after making the preceding post, however, the most serious relapse to date suddenly kicked in, and it has been a steady slide in the wrong direction ever since. I’m now back to spending most of my time lying down, and continue to lose ground at a fairly steady pace. Damn and blast, as they say. I don’t do self-pity, but it certainly is disappointing and frustrating, to say the least.
Hopefully I’ll be back in the not too distant future, but there’s no way of knowing when or if things will turn around. Good thing I’m kind of a hermit by nature anyway, as this is not the ailment for a social butterfly who needs constant interaction with people!
Much love and happiness to all of you, and hopefully I’ll see you again soon. xxoo