I decided to give myself some time off from the trauma and take a couple of steps back from it. You know the old chinese curse "may you live in interesting times". This feels like an interesting time. Here in the UK we had our first ever televised election debate. I watched it so I could tell my grandchildren, but I was actually riveted. It became obvious, as it was unfolding, that this was a watershed moment for English (and maybe British) politics. I have been avidly listening to the endless analysis and am looking forward to the second instalment.
Something everyone is talking about is of course the ash cloud which has grounded air traffic across Europe. There are very few visible effects; just a bit of dust film on the car and maybe some lurid sunsets. However, the economic implications are starting to bite and there is real distress about stranded people trying to get home. So, I switch on the radio, and if they are not talking about Nick Clegg and his engaging performance in last week's debate, they are banging on about the dust cloud from Iceland.
All this is adding a rather surreal quality to my already changed reality. This year's Spring has been compressed into a much shorter season owing to the extended Winter. The weather over the last few days has been clear, still and warm in the sun. All the blossom is coming out at once and the woodland which surrounds us is greening up before our very eyes. Yet, we are still getting frosts at night.
I'm functioning. The internal revelations of the last week have freed up some energy for me. I'm no longer having to put quite so much effort into keeping my raging teenager in check. It's a bit like being chained to a maniac though. I can blame her for stuff now, like demolishing half a tray of mini meringues at an art exhibition opening on Friday night (tee hee), or my irrational fit of jealousy at AJ's 'friending' of an ex-girlfriend on FaceBook. With my inner teenager's outing has come a burst of creative desire. All I want to do is crochet, paint, sketch, cook. I've never understood that before, why people don't have to force themselves to create. This is a defining moment for me. My creative energy was also locked up behind that door.
My body doesn't like it much though. My CFS has not mysteriously disappeared. You know that bit in Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody? "Body's aching all the time . . . "? Oh, mine is. I have a sketchbook into which I have started to 'download' feelings in image form. This morning I drew an outline of myself with a ton weight on each shoulder. Then, in one of those weirdly synchronous moments I was watching a video on Laurel's blog - Dreams at StakeThere was also an image of someone with the same two ton yoke on their shoulders. Maybe not so much of a coincidence when all of us with CFS feel like we are carrying a burden of illness.
Last night I was so tired I went to bed early and promptly fell asleep. Astonishing. That hasn't happened in a very long time. No restless fidgeting, no burning feet, no itching, no churning thoughts. For once I took the sentry off duty and just let go.