I'm doing too much, way too much. The recent increase in my antidepressant medication has kicked in and has made me rather agitated. This week I have been to a local community meeting, vacuumed the house and spent time with my daughter which included more driving than usual and a shopping trip. Oh, yes and the landlord and his plumber friend were round again trying to fix our temperamental boiler. Yesterday, when I should have been resting, I boogied in the kitchen to my new iPlayer, made flapjacks, ate flapjacks, went to art club and ate more flapjacks. Like I needed the sugar?
Late last night I had a total meltdown, sobbing into my pillow because I was so wired I couldn't sleep or even think. This morning I'm a little better but am now forced into resting through sheer exhaustion. Don't get me wrong, I've had a wonderful week. I think we are starting to reap the rewards of all the hard work of the last few months. I'm thrilled to be living here, it just gets better and better. My mood, though, is so unstable and I attribute that to the CFS rather than depression. It's like, if I do get a bit of energy, it's a total surge that I can't contain. The rest of the time I'm dragging along the bottom hardly even able to get up the stairs.
Time to cultivate an attitude of gratitude. If I'm going to be chronically sick then I'm in a good place, great friends and family and with the love of my life. Life can still be very rich even if I can't go marching round the countryside. It's just hard to take a back seat when I want to be driving the car.