I'm Not As Well As I Look

We finally got our internet connection fixed! Now I can start working through all those e-mails from vacation.

It's been a very rough week. Once again (will I never learn??), I had commited to much more than I could handle.

For starters, I did too much yard work last weekend, in a desperate effort to make our entrance presentable for my neighbors who would be coming over this week for our book group discussion. Our yard is like a jungle right now, and almost all of our neighbors have professional landscapers. I just wanted to clear out the weeds along our front walk and maybe plant a few flowers. I spent several hours Saturday (with breaks!) weeding, trying to do most of it while sitting. I woke up Sunday morning and couldn't bend over without excruciating pain. I guess it's a muscle spasm in my back. I spent all day on the heating pad and am still in a fair amount of pain several days later.

Monday, I was scheduled to teach a training course in the morning, as part of some consulting work. I hadn't done any teaching since getting CFIDS, but I thought I could handle a half-day. The combination of the back pain and being on my feet for several hours left me severely crashed by Monday evening. Thank goodness my client asked to postpone Tuesday's work.

I was supposed to host my book group on Wednesday evening (see what I mean about committing to too much?). By Wednesday, I was still badly crashed with aches, sore throat, the works. I had to cancel at the last-minute. I was both embarrassed and relieved when I finally sent the e-mail to my neighbors to cancel. A couple of them responded very compassionately, assuring me not to worry and offering to host instead. The rest were just silent.

I feel as though I've come out of the closet, like my condition has been revealed. I think they all knew I have a chronic illness, but I doubt any of them know how debilitated I am. Who could possibly understand CFIDS without living with it? In my e-mail, I admitted that I shouldn't have offered to host in the first place, that it was more than I could typically handle. I knew that when I volunteered, but I wanted to do my part. Besides, I was embarrassed to be a part of the group without taking my turn like everyone else.

How can you possibly convey to people how debilitating "normal", everyday activities are for someone with CFIDS? I feel as if we live in our own little world here in our house. None of our neighbors could possibly imagine what it's like here. I worry that people look at our weed-filled yard and messy house and just think we're lazy. But you can't go around telling everyone how sick you are. It would make them and me feel uncomfortable, and I really don't want to be pitied, just understood. Sometimes I wish I could wear a sign around my neck that would explain exactly what CFIDs is and what my life is like, something that would provide instant understanding. Or maybe just something like, "I'm not as well as I look."

Ah, well. Life goes on, right? Maybe this week's events, while embarrassing and disappointing, will help my neighbors to understand just a little better. I'm feeling a little better today, continuing my slow recovery out of this latest crash.