Progress

Well, here's something you don't hear on these blogs everyday...I have gotten better!  I'm pretty sure I can take it to the present progressive and say I am getting better, but I can definitely look back to three months ago and think, "Yes, I am better now."  This isn't capital-B "Better," the misuse of the word that means "cured."  It's just "better" in it's simple, literal form: not as bad.  And "not as bad" is totally great.

I was waiting to make this historical proclamation until I was sure I was right.  I wouldn't want to let optimism interfere with clear judgement.  The course of this illness is so variable, with so many ups and downs, that even if you log your symptoms every day, it can be hard to find a clear pattern.  Improvement is so incremental that you don't notice it over days, or even weeks, but when you look back over months you can see it.  In February, I could basically make it out to the couch for the day and back to bed at night.  Getting up to go to the bathroom or fridge was something that required serious psyching up for; the pros and cons needed to be seriously weighed.  And now look at me!  Making my own tea, going between the couch and the bed multiple times a day, going to the fridge whenever I want.  I don't mean to brag, but last week I did my own laundry.  And that's in the basement.  Yeah, that's right, down the stairs.

If I gave my energy level in February a 1 out of 10, I'd now give myself about a 2.  It's not a great amount of improvement.  I still can't stand up for more than a few minutes, and I don't feel like I can really leave the house, but improvement is improvement, I'll take it!  There's a big difference between a "1" and a "2," between the ability to get yourself a meal and not.
 
I also did something last week I hadn't done in several months, which is hang out with friends face-to-face.  My good friends from Philly, Zem and Jakey, came to disturb my rural Kansan solitude, and it was awesome.  We lied around inside, we lied around outside, and it was a little exhausting, but with frequent naps I could handle it.  Definitely not something I could have done this winter.

The only thing I can credit for my progress is my body's ability to heal itself when I let it. I spent six years trying to fight this illness by pushing myself beyond my body's new limits, until I pushed myself into a total collapse.  The last few months, I have tried not to push myself at all, and to really let myself rest. I am now a bad-ass of resting.  I have rested through boredom, loneliness, frustration, despair, all the things that used to send me running from how my body really felt, and I have also rested through those rare occasions when I've felt alright, those times I used to try to pack with all the things I was missing out on.  The idea is to have some energy left at the end of the day to reinvest in myself, to spend on fighting this illness.

I know I'm nowhere near healthy, but I am heartened by current trends.  I'm going to keep doing nothing as hard as I can.