I'm having a day off from it all today. I'm sitting here waiting for a delivery from Tesco's and watching the blue tits carry nesting material to the box I can see from my window. Yesterday I managed to complete my DLA claim form and take it to the post box. The walk back was like wading through mud. I didn't feel too bad in myself but my legs just refused to work properly. So frustrating.
I'm going to blog as best I can about this process I'm going through. Obviously there is a limit to what I can say, or want to say, publicly. So I won't be going into the content of what happened or what I'm recovering. I've thought long and hard about whether it is appropriate to talk about abuse issues in a blog about CFS. I have worried it will add credence to the 'it's all in the mind' argument. I have come to the conclusion that I can't be fully myself unless I describe all parts of my journey. The CFS may or may not be a legacy of the extraordinary stress I have endured. It's a very complex subject and it's not comfortable.
Yesterday's counselling session was not as onerous as I feared it would be. However, I'm only just starting to realise how big this thing is. It almost feels like being back at the beginning again (a time of great confusion and revelation that ended in a hospital stay and kick-started a period of rapid growth). This is the beginning of Phase 2. Unlike Phase 1, I have the language for this journey and superb support in my on-side partner, counsellor and GP. Even if next Monday's appointment with the clinical psychologist falls flat there are other paths to explore.