I don’t get out much.
Truth be told, I don’t get out much at all.
So, to be part of a regenerated writing group has been brilliant and so far, I’ve managed three monthly meetings out of three. Yay!
Fair play, it takes a lot of planning. I worked all weekend and took the day of the meeting off. I’ve been whacked over the head by my old nemesis MS fatigue recently, so I woke up, watched the news and fell asleep. Twice.
Wading through treacle is an understatement. There are simply no words to describe the skull-crushing, soul-sapping fatigue of MS and it doesn’t seem to get any easier.
Is it the invisibility? The difficulty in explaining? Or just that awful, horrendous feeling that most people with MS will be familiar with? The one that makes you want to cry with frustration. Who knew tiredness could actually be a painful ache?
So it’s all the more important that I get out into the world, tempting though it is to stay hunkered down in my sofa. Living on my own, perhaps even more so.
And here’s the truth:
MS is bad enough. But living with MS and Complex PTSD is a double whammy, something I had to admit to in my PIP form. Many of us do, and it’s something I’ve touched lightly upon in my past blogs.
Weirdly though, knowing what I’m up against has made me stronger and more willing to fight, after wondering why I feel so bad when I should be feeling better. I have a wonderful life, for which I am eternally grateful. The Teenager is thriving, despite the terrible knock-backs he’s had to cope with, and that to me is more important than anything.
I only have to look around our cosy little cottage to smile; The Teenager’s bedroom ready for whenever he wants to crash here, the cat ready to greet him, the continuity of it all is a wonderful thing.
MS has made me face up to challenges and Complex PTSD is one of them. It can happen to any of us, at any time, but if the effects are suppressed, the fallout can be huge. Add MS into the equation, and it’s asking for trouble.
I’ve messed up, trusted the wrong people with the right information. I’ve made a fool of myself and have paid the price.
True friends are hard to come by. The ones who ask how they can help are the ones I cherish the most.