My darling fiancé and I have started some new routines, trying to get better eating and sleeping habits. I ”normally” sleep for about 12 hours (and hope to never reach that proper insomnia state of ME that I’ve heard of, cause at the moment, if I don’t get at least 10 hours I barely function), and those hours are ”normally” midnight to noon. I say normally in citations because it varies a lot depending on my stress/anxiety levels and ME state. But now we’re trying to go to sleep earlier and get up earlier (well, my fiancé normally gets up before me in any case obviously, even though he also needs more sleep than most people), and my body can not cope.
Getting up at 11 am instead of 12 is torture. I can barely keep my eyes open, never mind actually getting out of bed. That’s a struggle on any day, but this is ridiculous.
What’s worse is that I can’t go to sleep earlier or at my ”normal” time. No, now I’m up and can’t for the life of me go to sleep at any reasonable hour. Which is making the mornings even worse. I think I might be like an overly tired small child, too tired to go to sleep? Too full of adrenaline from trying to stay awake? Maybe I should try to go to bed even earlier and see if that helps. I’m trying to start to get ready for bed early, but I never seem to succeed in doing what needs to be done, get into bed and turning the lights off before 11 pm anyway. At the very best. Tomorrow I’ll try to turn off the lights at 9 pm. Might just be 2 more hours of trying to sleep (and then giving up and get on the phone/Zenpad and try to expel silly thoughts…) but it’s worth a shot!
The silly thoughts on the other hand. How do you expel them?
For some reason (probably a near encounter last week) I started thinking of an ex. I guess we all have them in some form, and most of us have that ex that just pops up in our minds, the one that we maybe didn’t get ”closure” with? The one that got away? The one who didn’t treat us right? Well, I’m now happy that mine did ”get away”, because if not, I might not have made the choices that led me to meeting my fiancé.
But I started thinking about it… I think that almost everyone with an ex, or at least everyone with one of Those exes, have that fantasy of meeting them again and be fabulous. Show them what they missed. I know I’ve had them. I’d be so successful, attractive and aloof. I’d show that bastard. Same thing with my old bullies at school.
But now, that I’m once again living in my home town and have a lot more opportunities of running in to The Ex, or one of the bullies, I feel so small. So ashamed. I can’t answer the question ”So, how are you doing nowadays?” with ”Oh, I’m so busy studying to be/working as a lawyer, I barely see my fiancé/husband” and flick my hair and dazzle them with my smile and intelligence and success. No, instead, no one even asks that question but instead varieties of ”What has happened to you?” and I have to explain about getting a neurological illness and having to quit law school in favour of laying at home on my sofa, feeling like I’ve been hit by a bus. (Ok, I would never say that much to one of the aforementioned.)
And I know it’s silly. My worth as a person has nothing to do with being able to dazzle people from the past with my success, but I just wish that society didn’t put us sick/disabled people down so much. I wish that I wouldn’t feel the need to show people anything. No brave front, no success… But I do. Society taught me what was important in life. Success. Or at least have a job, for God’s sakes! And if you don’t, you should do something. Study, have a couple of kids. SOMETHING. Not just be a burden on society, as we disabled are.
How am I going to dazzle people, when I feel like I should be hiding. When I am so used to saying the right things, putting people at ease, so they don’t feel bad about my misfortune.
Today an acquaintance of my mum’s said: ”Well, at least you’re not in a lot of pain! Or are you?” and I’m like… ”Umm, yes I am actually. I have bad fibromyalgia, and ME, and endometriosis and such… But yes, of course it could be worse.” and she response turn gets in to some anecdote with the point: When we are in a crappy situation, why not say so? Why not say ”I am in horrible pain most days, and it sucks!”
Well, it was rhetorical I think. But society teaches us that it’s bad form. It’s like bragging, you shouldn’t toot your own horn, or ”try to get sympathies”. Which we mostly don’t anyway, we get pity, at best, from people with bad grasp of the reality of disability.
When I say that I’m sick, chronically sick, people get very flustered. They don’t know what to say, and I have to lighten up the situation. I make a joke, or say something deflating to make the situation more comfortable. I wish I didn’t feel like I have to. I wish I’d just let them be uncomfortable.