[fraj-uhl; Brit. fraj-ahyl] Show IPA
easily broken, shattered, or damaged; delicate; brittle; frail:a fragile ceramic container; a very fragile alliance.
vulnerably delicate, as in appearance: She has a fragilebeauty.
lacking in substance or force; flimsy: a fragile excuse.
Why does our life- my life in this case- and trust in recovery from M.E has to be so fragile...
I so much like to think- believe and trust that I can recover from this blasted illness. Sometimes I wonder why I put myself through this cycle. Why can't I just accept that this is what has happened to my body and let it be...
Because I so much like to be able to really jog trough the forest or pick up my badminton racket and really play a game- and win it!
Today that trust has shattered- again.
My healing thoughts suffer from fragility- they shatter too easily.
I woke up exhausted, pain in my whole body. The pain that I got to know as a tiredness pain. This type is not fixable. Perhaps with rest. But rest is tough when your mind is in that fragile state. I want to be well. I don't want to dwell on the not well option.
Yesterday as part of my recovery plan, I decided I would walk to town. For the healthy ones among you, it would be a walk that takes less that 10 minutes.
I had given myself the whole afternoon to achieve this goal, and was going to reward myself with an ice cream in town.
An achievable plan.
I had earlier that day hoovered my small house.
The combination in the one day was obviously not a good idea...
Why does it have to be this way.
I felt good before I left for town.
I stopped at every wall and bench to take a rest. I was in no hurry.
I enjoyed the silence of the slightly moving trees. Their gorgeous lush green budding leaves filled me with such joy. I was soooo happy being a 'tourist' in my own town.
I met lovely people along the way. While seated on the wall opposite the post office, John asked where my 'buggy' was (mobility scooter). "At home" I said. "I decided to walk." He offered me a lift home but I had not reached my destination yet- the post office.
I loved sitting there, in the sun, later in the shade and observe the people going about their business. I chuckled when I saw two men painting the bottom part of a lamp post. "How many men does it take to paint a lamp post...?"
I watched children passing by and on their return all had an inviting ice cream cone in their hands. It was summer. I was out. I was happy!
After another rest I made my way to get my reward: Ice cream!
Had a lovely talk with the waitress in O'Brien's who told me that she had spend 3 months in Thailand, and spend most of this time in beach huts. It sounded wonderful and I was glad to meet another soul who is happy with her own company.
We talked about my writing- she hadn't known I was a writer, but did remember I don't like butter on my bread!
Was asked for a copy of my book by another visitor to O'Brien's
Walking home I again rested at every bench. One man, whom I had met a few times on today's journey, commented how it looked like I didn't ever wanted to go home again.
I sold a book to a passer by whom had read the article in the Examiner . Walking into my street, I marveled at how fortunate I am to be living where I live. The view is gorgeous.
I came home happy although a little tired. But- rested contentedly on the couch and found entertainment from the tv.
So why oh why can I not feel good today.
I feel fragile to the point of tears.
I lost, temporarily, the believe I will ever recover.
I hope to find strength again soon, in the meantime Ill read my own book Flying on Little Wings and ...
Frustration is what we live with on a daily basis. Most people don't believe what that cannot see. Which cultivates even more frustration within us.
The new rules to the DLA assessment deem us able to work if we can make ourselves a cup of tea. They should try living with ME. Then they would truly understand we are normal people living within a physical prison.
I am so sorry you are having a bad day after your adventure. I hate the fact this illness allows alittle joy to creep in, we feel ok when we get home, we gain a little confidence,....and the next day...BANG!!!! Symptoms, fatigue etc etc.. It can feel crushing mentally when this happens I know. I'm glad you are seeking solace in your little book, it will help you as it is many others. Ireally hope that rest helps soon. Stay strong my friend, this bad time will pass...
PS. I used to play badminton a lot too!
sending thoughts and love corina-remember sometimes we fly on broken wings.We fly , but the little wings can be hurt in the process.what a lovely day you've had . i think i will do the same soon - minus the walking to town . but i shall sit and enjoy my funny little community and my pretty little town . thanks for the push --
Thank you my dear friends.
First of all, I am sorry that you all truly understand what I am saying... This thought is filled with contradiction.
It is a comfort that you understand, and yet I wish you were healthy and do not have to go through the same cycle of well-unwell- fear and love of life... You know what I mean?
Suzi, I truly hope that you are not subjected to the DLA assesment which deems you fit for work. Send them to this page....
Sue. I look forward to have that game of badminton with you some day!!
Di, I am glad that I pushed you to go out and explore your world so near.
love to you all.
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