Today there was almost an enforced continuation of the dearth of writing on this blog. My frustration levels are quite high this morning. I have done quite a bit of IT and internet jobs for others over the past fortnight or so but this morning could have done with someone to sort out my own IT problems. Instead, I have cheated: rather than struggling to sort out the tantrum that our MacBook is in the middle of having, I decided not to log in as myself but, rather, to pretend I am a guest. Grooooaaaaaannnnn.
The need for this capitulation is irritating but I simply cannot face any more frustration at the moment. I have had several weary days during the last couple of weeks or so which have been frustrating but have also brought with them a new realisation. When I’m having a bad Fibro Day due to fatigue and lethargy, it affects my physical abilities. I don’t mean the direct physical effect of the fatigue making it exhausting to move but, rather, that I can also feel a difference in my abilities from a physical perspective. As you may have guessed by now, I am finding it difficult to describe what I mean. I think I shall explaining from a different direction.
The bad days I’ve been having have not exactly been Fibro Fatigue Days. They have been more generalised than that. I have felt achey, lacklustre, a bit foggy, weary, sort of “unpolished’, as though all of me needs spring cleaning. That description also includes how my body has felt. I have felt very stiff and my mobility has been poor. Even when I have felt brighter, it has been an illusion. My ability to walk any distance has been severely restricted. I went out with Little Sis earlier in the week and could barely put one foot in front of the other. It was as though each of my limbs and my body were being held back by some physical restriction. It wasn’t fatigue in my usual sense. It was more that I felt the Fibro was making me unwell and so stopping me moving.
I hope that explanation is clearer and easier to understand because I just cannot think of another way to describe it, apart from being frustrating. Sometimes I would be sitting and feeling fairly OK but, as soon as I moved, I looked and felt severely impaired. It was as though I had aged 20 years in 20 seconds.
Hey! Where did all those birthdays go? Where are my 20 years of presents?
What do you mean by “Just because you feel older, it doesn’t mean you are older”? Hmph!
OK, well, what about all the birthday cakes? *smiles hopefully