Thursday, 2 March 2023

Forty!



I am forty! And I’m a single, childless, careerless, disabled, woman. A spinster. Nobody's significant other, nobody's adventure buddy, and nobody’s parent or guardian. I’m a disability pensioner, an economic burden, a leaner not a lifter. I am an aunt - but a geographically far away and mostly unknown one. I live on a planet with many catastrophic problems to be solved, and billions of beings who suffer, but I no longer volunteer or work anywhere. I don’t do much that’s productive or “useful” at all. I’m very slow, not very strong and have to carefully manage my limited energy. I have a bad back and am greying, wrinkling, spotting, sagging, lumpifying, and my BMI is too high. By some value-systems I am a total failure as an adult. Increasingly irrelevant to society. If I died in a car crash and I was not your friend or family, but a stranger you heard about on the news, you’d feel way less sad than if the victim was younger, more famously talented, or somebody’s mother or partner. (Admit it, it’s true

๐Ÿคท‍♀️)

I am fine, by the way. I’m being sardonic, (which may not be a good look). Although I won’t lie and say some things never make me sad, or I’ve never balked when looking at the chasm between my reality and “societal expectations for forty year old women” (such as career competency, secure partnership, motherhood), they don’t cut me critically deep. I’m not fishing for pity or validation here. I guess what I’m trying to do (clumsily), is criticize the values that our society is most loud about, yet not all people can embody. And even if they do, it is based on random luck more than anything.

I know it doesn’t actually matter that I no longer conform to what the loudest, flashiest aspects of society find valuable. These can also be shallow and short-lived. No one gets to keep their youth, beauty and strength forever. In the whole animal kingdom only killer whales and humans keep their post-menopausal females around, so evolution says aging, non-reproductive human women are important, even if fashion and the rest of the animal-kingdom doesn’t think so. And most importantly, I still like my life. I like being here on planet earth in this imperfect, but clever, breathing body.

I live a small, slow life with lots of naps. I appreciate beautiful things in nature. I read heaps of books that not many other people have time to read. I really love potatoes. I have friends. I live in my favorite place in the world, and lately I’ve been well enough to go for bush sits and outdoor swims. I provide intentional, blissful, belly rubs to dogs, and unintentional food for sparrows and rats in the garden. Quite a few pot plants depend on me to keep them alive. The only “adult” milestone I have been very-lucky enough to “achieve” is buying half a house. I try not to be a terrible landlady or housemate. I “still” live in a sharehouse, but I’m not the only person I know doing this over forty, and I actually think it’s a bit of an achievement, in flexibility, tolerance and communication.

I wouldn’t swap my life with anyone. Mostly because I wouldn’t want to land any poor sod with my life! Ha ha, but no, despite this dud deal of a body, despite multiple circumstances meaning my life is far from what my younger self imagined it would look like at 40, I know I’m still immensely privileged in many other ways. And I have enough goodness, I have enough meaning.

I hope I’m more generous, humble and less ignorant than when I was younger. I hope I can keep learning stuff. I hope the world as we know it doesn’t disintegrate into a total cataclysmic climate apocalypse before..... , well, ever. I hope humanity finds a cure for me/cfs, or at least finds out why the hell my body is like this now. I hope I still keep being okay even if we don’t. I hope humans keep being delightful and funny and sweet and silly, whatever happens in the world. And nature will always be improbable and wonderous, even if it were just algae, cockroaches, ravens, the steady rotations of the earth, the sunlight sparkles on the ocean, and the stars in the dark universe at night.

So. Forty cries of a black cockatoo, flying down over nipaluna/Hobart from kunanyi to you all. (Raaaaaaaa!)
❤️๐Ÿ‘ต๐ŸŒป๐Ÿธ๐Ÿงถ๐Ÿงฆ๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ•ธ๐Ÿฆ•๐Ÿก๐Ÿณ๐ŸŒ•๐ŸŒŸ✨✨๐ŸŒŸ✨๐ŸŒˆ๐ŸŒฆ๐Ÿ…๐Ÿฅ”๐Ÿฅ”๐Ÿฅ”๐Ÿฅ”๐Ÿง€๐Ÿ†⛰๐Ÿ›€๐Ÿป๐Ÿ“™ ❤️


Tuesday, 3 January 2023

Two Oh Two Two




2022 was, as hoped for, fine and fairly uneventful for me. I don’t think I have any new life insights, or major news to share. My me/cfs is kind of old news now, and nowhere near as interesting as it was back when it was new, even though I was having a much more terrible time back then. I don’t even know why I am writing this post. Mainly because I have done so for the last few years. For myself, I guess, to look back on. People my parents' age still snail-mail each other Christmas letters with their annual news. Nowadays I think we are either meant to catch up in person, or deduce what people are up to via their infrequent Facebook posts. My blunt dad says he couldn’t care less about the news from his old friends from 30 years ago, but I’m a curious person and I would like to hear about people's lives. (But I guess I’d be more interested if they contained authentic news and thoughts rather than curated highlights). Anyhow, here is my not-all-rosy Christmas letter, to the ether. 

In 2022 I had no personal calamities, although several occurred in the community, affecting people I know. Death in a light plane crash. A suicide. Devastating floods. The Ukraine war. Seven previously fit and healthy people I personally know who had their year, and perhaps lives, greatly changed by long covid. Stark reminders that life can change or end in an instant. 

The year started with a lot of covid panic, as our state borders had just opened. But anyone who hasn’t had it now is a rare case. Despite our best efforts of isolating an infected housemate, I caught it in May. It was very miserable, but I returned to my baseline after three weeks, which I think was fortunate, especially when looking at this poll my friend did on the impact of covid on people with me/cfs (Pie graph of results below). As an immuno-weirdo, perhaps I should have isolated myself more strictly, but it was pretty hard while living in a share house - I wouldve had to change my entire housing situation. . 



(This is the results of a poll of 158 people done by my friend Garth in December 2022)



It was my 7th year of me/cfs. Is there a point where I’ll stop counting the years? Probably not, even though it mostly feels like it’s “just my life now”. I was sometimes sad, frustrated and lonely because of things I couldn’t do in the restricted-energy prison. But not as acutely as I was in the first few years. And I was mostly above the miserable line in health. I have been experiencing a general upward trend since the big 2020 crash. (If only I knew what caused that, and how to stop it happening again!) I was able to get out of the house to go sit in the bush when I needed to, to escape bad-habit ruts and stagnant thinking (more often than not caused by too much time on the internet).  I had the battery power to go camping several times and feel sated in my thirst for outdoor time and outdoor swims. I had enough energy to start doing some gentle core strength exercises, which helped improve my bad back. (After covid, being upright without pain suddenly became impossible after years of my body getting weaker). I maintained several one-on-one friendships, went to some events, made lots more beanies and made what might be the most beautiful thing I have ever owned: a plant-dyed woolen quilt, fragments of which were dyed at a week-long beach camp with a bunch of excellent and talented women. I have done all my own shopping, cooking and have begun to do some of my own laundry again, although mum still helped a lot. A relatively good cfs year. 


How 2022 compared to the years since 2017 when I started gathering steps data. This graph is the two-week rolling average of my daily step count (which correlates pretty well with how well I am feeling), but it has the step numbers when I stayed at flat places for a few nights halved - as my usual home is on a steep hill. 

Just this year's data, one-week rolling average, without the 'flat place bias' flattened out as in the first graph All the spikes are when I was camping, and you can see when I got covid in May. 


Although I enjoyed the event, I felt the loneliest the week after I went to a friend's 40th birthday, 2-night camping party. This was partly because every year I become part of an increasingly small minority of childless people, let alone single people. And partly because that weekend I was well enough to be able to experience a glimpse of my old self, who was much more social than I am able to be these days. Comparison is the enemy of contentment, I guess. But overall, as I have probably written here before, I’ve discovered that you don’t need as much health as I previously thought to be happy. The initial adjustment is hard, and you need a certain amount of ability, and to be not too sick and in pain to be okay. Other privileges, such as enough money, good social support and good mental health also help one cope with better illness. I still feel like a very lucky sick person. 

This year, for the first time, I tried no treatments! Zero diets! I ate the most bread and gluten since before I got sick. It was delicious. (How good are eggs on toast?) I was feeling just so burned out after trying to figure stuff out for myself. Have I given up on getting better? Or have I released myself into freedom from trying mostly bullshit treatments? I don’t know, but I have not yet recovered the motivation to get back on that train. (This blog explains some of the stuff that many me/cfs patients try to figure out for themselves, with no professional help. It's seriously hard)


I did a big cleanse of some unused outdoor gear, and clothes that no longer fit due to cfs weight gain This was confronting. I wear loose clothes and I don’t weigh myself, so I haven’t been monitoring the incremental weight gain from almost 7 years of no exercise. Even though for most of my life I have been very resistant to a lot of the very-bullshit expectations that are put on (mostly) women's bodies, I haven’t been immune to those about weight stigma. However, this year I read some powerful anti-diet, anti-body-shame, body-positivity books that were a good anecdote. This mindset is something I want to continue to develop. (The books were: Just eat it Just Eat It - Laura Thomas, PhD | Registered Nutritionist | Wellness Advocate (laurathomasphd.co.uk) and Body Positive Power Body Positive Power: How learning to love yourself will save your life by Megan Jayne Crabbe (goodreads.com)). 


Big pile of clothes I tried to find new homes for: "size 12-14 outdoorsy hippy dag lady" 


I got asked on a date. Or at least a “I’d like to get to know you better do you want to have lunch” invite from a man. I currently have no regrets about not going, but I wasn't sure if I was just being a scaredy-cat at the time. It was someone I was vaguely interested in getting to know better, due to the context I met him in, which is a cause dear to my heart. And it’s been a very long time of zero romantic anything in my life. (So long that if I stated the figure, some might assume I was talking about months, rather than years!).  Although there are benefits to being single, I often feel lonely, and going on dates seems to be the main method of opening oneself up to that possibility, even if many don’t work out. But at the time I honestly had my energy budget booked out for the next month and I guess I wasn’t interested enough to cancel other plans to make it happen. I said “sounds good, but cfs is the boss of my life and I can only do about three things a week, on top of looking after myself, and I’m all booked up for the next month. I can be in touch after that”. Then after that I was extra tired for a few weeks, and then after that I just didn’t really want to and saying a proper “no” felt like a relief. He’d only seen me make brief appearances at this organization, where I was able to appear relatively healthy and normal, before fleeing home for emergency rest to avoid crashing. The idea of having to explain how I am constantly micromanaging energy, plus how I sometimes experience unpredictable crashes, to someone who may not get it, and may want or expect more time and energy from me than I can afford, feels too hard. I need somebody who instantly understands, and preferably someone who I also instantly feel comfortable with. I already have too many friends who I don’t see enough, who I really value catching up with, and who don’t make me nervous and drain my energy with any awkward “dateness”. So, though I don’t have regrets in that particular case, I still wonder if I “should” prioritize some time and energy for this pursuit in my life. But even a good experience might take too much energy. I dunno. It’s still in the too hard basket. 


The scariest thing I did was take the plunge to buy a little Suzuki van with a bed in the back. A generous friend of a friend lent me his van as a trial for a week, which enabled what was one of the highlights of my year - my first trip to Freycinet National Park in over 7 years! It was stunning. I loved

gazing at the Hazards, which I think have a presence and beauty as significant as Uluru; sitting on a clifftop overlooking a large expanse of ocean and watching the whitewater crash against the rocks and kelp beds below; seeing all the wildflowers; and hearing the pobblebonk frogs.



                                    The granite Hazards at Freycinet National Park

I’m not yet sure if buying my own van is a good thing - or one that was worth the $7500 I spent (the most expensive thing I have ever bought besides half a house! and the extra petrol it uses. It was very hard giving up my little 22-year-old, reliable, efficient and very dented Baleno - which I was very attached to, as it had become my most valuable mobility aid since becoming disabled. The new van and I have had four nights together so far, and I think things are looking promising. But obviously rushing around having adventures is still something I have to take cautiously, even though I now have the ability to instanap anywhere. We will see. 




Little van under the black wattles on the Tasman pensinular


So, me/cfs life 2022? Not what I would choose, but it’s what I have, and I’ve been lucky enough to have just enough energy, luck and other privileges to have a good year and to be okay. There were lots of little, every day, good things. Having good, generous, talented friends. An easy share house this year. Delicious food. Solid shelter. Adequate sleep. Lots of top-quality library books. Clouds on the mountain. Yoga. Garden produce. Not living in a war zone. Not being flooded or burnt down. Still being here. 



                    Alpine orchid at Mount Field - easier to spot on slow walks than fast! 



My old yoga teacher shared this poem, about being simultaneously being okay and not okay.


For When People Ask

by Rosemerry Trommer


I want a word that means

   okay and not okay,

  a word that means

devastated and stunned with joy.

   I want the word that says

  I feel it all, all at once.

The heart is not like a songbird

   singing only one note at a time,

  more like a Tuvan throat singer

able to sing both a drone

   and simultaneously

  two or three harmonics high above it—

a sound, the Tuvans say,

   that gives the impression

  of wind swirling among rocks.

The heart understands the swirl,

   how the churning of opposite feelings

  weaves through us like an insistent breeze,

leads us wordlessly deeper into ourselves,

   blesses us with paradox

  so we might walk more openly

into this world so rife with devastation,

   this world so ripe with joy.






Seeing the tall trees at Mount Field this year was a highlight. 


Plant dyed quilt





Camping with talented friends in a freezing paddock in the middle of winter






Selfie at Fortescue Bay






Saturday, 24 September 2022

It's not your fault you haven't figured out pacing yet. (It's really hard).

Advice on pacing and life for those new to me/cfs or long covid


May be an image of tree and nature

One of the only possible good things to come out of the pandemic is that due to high case numbers, significant funding has been directed towards research into long covid. If anything is discovered, it will almost certainly also benefit patients with the long underfunded condition of me/cfs. 


But it’s heartbreaking when I find out anyone I know has been suffering from long covid. Up until very recently, I may have been having unnecessary jealous and surly thoughts about your shiny, happy, adventurous facebook pictures. But there is no way on earth I wanted you to join the fatigue club. Sure, it's possible to have an okay life with me/cfs. I have a good life, even. But at the same time it’s crap and I’d end this disease in a heartbeat if I could. I really don’t wish this upon anyone. 


I hope by now I have convinced all my friends of the extreme importance of pacing if suffering from post-viral fatigue. It’s the main thing I wish I knew how to do when I first got sick, and I believe I wouldn’t have deteriorated to such a low baseline if I had not repeatedly pushed myself beyond my safe zone in my first year. But learning to live with a brand new, invisible disability, without any guidance or even a diagnosis from doctors,  is very very hard.  Post exertional malaise (PEM), the hallmark symptom of me/cfs, also means you might not know you’ve overdone it until too late. So, while you should please use your strictest discipline to pace yourself very very carefully, don’t blame yourself if you don’t get it right, and overdo it and crash repeatedly for the first little while. 


This post is an attempt to compile some of my tips about pacing, and also living with a chronic illness for those new to post-viral fatigue. Pacing has both practical and psychological aspects. You will need to figure out new, practical ways to achieve certain outcomes while using less energy.  But you will also need to figure out how to accept your new limitations, to be more at peace with boring resting, when you would so much rather be living your old life, riding your mountain bike, bushwalking, dancing or whatever you like to do. 


May be an image of nature and tree



First off, if you have unusual fatigue after a virus, take it seriously, but don’t panic yet. Panicking is a waste of precious energy! Post viral fatigue, for a few months or more, is quite common and many people fully recover and never get sick again. BUT some people, like myself, who were previously very healthy and had no family history of anything like this, don’t recover. Ever. (Unless we find a cure, or a miracle happens). As yet, there seems to be no predicting who it will strike down. 


Most articles on pacing will say “always leave some reserves in your tank”, or “only use half the energy you have” and "rest between tasks". But, actually figuring out what is known as your ‘safe energy envelope’ can be very tricky. It wasn’t until I started using the heart rate monitor technique, that I learned just how slowly I needed to go. I don’t use the monitor much anymore, as after 6.5 years I have become much more in tune with the subtle signals that my body sends me when the empty-fuel tank warning lights are on. (Slightly sore glands, feeling slightly wired). 


You are going to need to do some strict energy-expenditure budgeting. Here is my first ever venn diagram, where I have tried to categorize some of the ways you use energy in your life. 




It had to be a venn because nothing really fits into any category neatly. I can see how things like ‘exercise’, ‘cooking’, ‘work’, ‘volunteering for x urgent and worthy cause’, and ‘playing with your kids’ may all fall into the middle of the diagram. 

But the point of this diagram is to say: 


  • Your first energy-draining things to drop are those that are primarily in the SHOULD category. This might be being an overachiever at work or school, overcommitting to volunteer tasks, having very high cleanliness standards, being a people pleaser, or exercising at a certain intensity every day without listening to what your body actually wants. 

  • Try and figure out if anything in either of the other two categories are actually more in the SHOULD category. You may have to let go of some pride, or expectations that have been placed on you by yourself or society. 

  • Figure out how you can modify things in the ‘have to’ category to be less energy intensive. This could be switching to online grocery shopping, getting a robo vacuum cleaner, asking for and accepting help from friends, using a stool in the shower, or figuring out lower energy activities to do with your kids. 

  • In the ‘want to’ category you can hopefully figure out creative ways to find enjoyment in life that are less energy intensive. Don’t neglect this part of your life, as joy is very important for mental health. Can you find some of the feelings you used to get from high-energy activities, but by using less energy? For example, I sit in the bush instead of bushwalk nowadays. There is so much detail to see in a small part of nature. I sit on a rock by the ocean instead of sea kayaking. I still feel the wind on my face and listen to the waves. I do gentle restorative yoga instead of yoga that involves any aerobic sequences. I can usually still go snorkeling in the summertime. Some people are able to ride electric bikes or other mobility devices. There are many low-energy hobbies, like writing, music, photography and art, and some people who used to play competitive sports now enjoy computer games. 


This is all much easier said than done. 


You are going to have to figure out how to be less attached to certain things that you valued about your identity. I was very attached to my identity as a fit, adventurous, reliable, independent, competent, bike riding person. I’m sure Buddhists have something profound to say about this. I guess that independence was always an illusion and your ‘identity’ a flimsy facade that life could deal a fatal blow to at any moment. Maybe that you need to regard it as a much more fluid, impermanent thing. 


You will need to let go of some of your pride. I used to feel pride about my ability to ride my bike up one of the steepest streets in my hometown. It was a benchmark I measured myself against. I loved exercise and the endorphins it gave me, but sometimes I probably exercised beyond what my body actually wanted, because I thought I ‘should’. I’ve also had to let go of pride of being an environmentalist who rode my bike everywhere, and got most of my stuff from op shops. I have to drive if I want to go anywhere now, and my ability to op-shop is limited. 


You will lose muscle and you might gain weight. You might not be able to work anymore. There is a deep-seated story in our culture that what you do, or look like, is what makes your existence worthwhile. This has been drilled into us in a million small and large ways since we were little. I am only just coming to terms with my 1-size fatter-than-it-was body, after 6.5 years.  You will need to let go of this bullshit. You are worthwhile just for existing. “You are a human being not a human doing” (Or a human looking). Your most important job in society now is looking after your health, including your mental health, as best you can. 


You will be deeply confronted by your own vulnerability. (For example, I am way more terrified of bushfires now). This was always going to happen at some point in your life. 


You probably feel very invested in plans you have made for the future, for work or travel. It’s really going to suck if you are forced to let them go. I’m sorry. Life deals curveballs to us all. We don't get to choose these things.


There’s also our fucked up capitalist system to deal with, with nauseatingly high house prices and rents. I hate that some of you may feel forced to keep working because you need to keep a roof over your head and provide for your family. That is an awful, unacceptable part of our society. I wish you the best of luck in figuring out a solution for your own personal circumstances. 


You will need to let go of pretending to be okay to your friends, families and colleagues. One you’ve figured your new boundaries out for yourself, you’ll need to communicate them to others. (I used to wear a blue hat to communicate when I was too exhausted to even speak to my housemates). You will need to work creatively with your significant others to figure out new ways of doing things. This will be an ongoing process but will hopefully get easier with time. I hope you have good people around you.


You will most likely need to schedule and prioritize some proper rest into your day, and be disciplined about this. I have been much more stable since I introduced daily compulsory naps. Proper rest involves lying down, eyes closed, no screens, no reading. I listen to an audio body-scan meditation, with headphones and an eye pillow. That usually leads to a nap. I do this every day, even when I don’t think I need to. Usually when I’m feeling the most antsy and frustrated (feelings that I would previously have used exercise to deal with), is when I need to have a nap the most. Baths are also good places for doing nothing except resting. Find activities that calm your nervous system, which can be restorative to your energy levels. I do some gentle yoga or qigong each day, and find slow breathing is also a useful practice. 


At some point you are probably going to need to stop clinging to hope of recovery. This might sound harsh, but its about fully accepting your present situation. It also doesn’t mean you let go of hope of having a good life, and hope that you can deal with the worst of the adjustment period and emotions surrounding CFS. You can simultaneously feel grief, sadness and a desperate longing for your old life, but also be overwhelmingly grateful for what you still have.  But it is wishful thinking and unrealistic hope for recovery that often leads to people overdoing things and crashing again when they have one good day. On the flip side, along with hope, you could also try letting go of fear and worry about the future. Today might be a day with terrible symptoms, but you don’t know that about tomorrow. You may be sick for the rest of your life. But you don’t know that yet. 


You will grieve. Your acceptance of your current condition will fluctuate, as will your physical condition. Relapses can be brutal. You will feel all sorts of unpleasant emotions. In the long run, allowing yourself to feel these emotions rather than denying or fighting them is probably the most healthy and least energy intensive thing to do. But perhaps there are some days that you are too sick to face them directly. That’s okay. Distract yourself with fluff on the tv, internet or in light hearted books. Seek a counselor if you think this will help. (I hope you can find a good one who is affordable and understands this particular illness). 


Never let anyone tell you to try graded exercise therapy. You know your own body better than any doctor. Here is the text from a recent series of tweets from a patient called Nina:


"There seems to be a trend among healthcare providers to promote graded exercise therapy for people with ME/CFS but call it ‘pacing’. They encourage patients to “do a little more each day” while also “Not overdoing it” because that “can lead to setbacks”. Here is why that is both dishonest and harmful: You can’t exercise your way out of ME/CFS. There is this perception that you can bypass exertion intolerance by keeping increments small. Spoiler: There is no “ME God'' who you can cheat or bribe so he won’t punish you. Every single patient I know has tried this approach, and has learned one thing: It is much easier to overdo things than to listen to your body and rest. People want to live, they want to move. Unless there is comorbid depression or simply misdiagnosis, patients will routinely have to be encouraged to rest more, not less. For some, resting enough will pay off, expanding their energy envelope a little over time. For others, it will keep them from sliding into severer stages of the illness. But even that can’t always be prevented. So what these providers are doing is turning our most valuable management tool into a manual for self harm. When patients improve, they will naturally expand their activities. We see this happening all the time! If you care for/about people with ME/CFS encourage them to stay within their energy limits. It’s a much harder thing to do than the opposite, even if no hero’s journey is ever written about the person who just stayed at home. Maybe it's time for that to change”.


I recommend joining an online support group, where there are many helpful people who collectively have thousands of years of experience and wisdom, and are very generous with advice for practical and psychological coping strategies. But be selective about what you read. Sometimes the posts are very depressing. Sometimes they are too desperately ‘treatment’ focused. 


As per my previous post, I recommend being cautious about ‘cures’ and ‘treatments’. You can read a gazillion books about different miracle cures, all with conflicting information. The supplement and ‘wellness’ industry is huge and unregulated. You can take so many pills you rattle, and spend thousands. (The only thing I’m relatively confident about is that it’s probably good to take some vitamin d if you live in a high latitude place over winter). You can still try (pretty much all unproven) ‘treatments’ but be aware of the financial and energetic cost and the  exhausting roller coaster ride of hope and disappointment they can take you on. 


Some people have, or will develop dietary intolerances. If that’s you, you probably need to do an elimination diet to find out what they are. Seek advice from a professional. Restricted diets are supposed to be temporary. Make sure you are getting enough nutrients. (There are free online diet tracking apps where you can input your food and find this out). Make sure you aren’t iron or b12 deficient, or coeliac through a blood test at your doctor. Find a diet that is sustainable for you. That is one that you enjoy, that gives you the least digestive distress and the most stable blood sugar, and that is achievable for you to prepare and eat on a low energy budget. Ignore what the silly people in books with their miracle-cure diets say. Sure, give them a crack if you want to. But you are the only one who can discover what the perfect (or good-enough) dietis for you. 


Although there is no cure for me/cfs, if you have symptoms other than fatigue, there may be some things you can try and target them. Talk to your doctor. I have had some success treating insomnia with herbal sleeping pills, and I think low dose naltrexone improved my brain fog and marginally improved my energy envelope when I first started taking it. It doesn’t work without pacing though - I still feel terrible if I overdo it and crash. 


It will probably be very helpful to read books and consume media by people who have gone through their own humbling disability journeys. However avoid ones that end up with the hero/ine become a paralympian or climbing mount kilimanjaro or something. People with fatigue are never going to be disability-inspiration-porn material. Many people with me/cfs are still hugely inspirational in terms of grace, acceptance, adaptability, kindness and compassion - but not in anything that involves pushing their body beyond their safe energy envelope. (Unfortunately there are not many hero stories in our culture that don’t involve the hero pushing through physical barriers). One of the best books I read was “How to be Sick” by Toni Bernhardt. It is a Buddhist perspective on chronic illness and contains far more helpful tips than are in this short blog post. She also writes her own blog here. (Although in my first year of illness when I was still desperately clinging to hope of recovery, I found it very confronting to read material written by someone who had been sick for over a decade). 


That is all the tips I can think of now. If you are one of the people with post covid fatigue, I’m so sorry. I wish with all my heart this wasn’t happening to you. It’s shit. I really hope you are one of the people who fully recover within a few months. I want to be jealous of your adventures again. But pacing is the most important thing you can learn regardless. And whatever happens, I believe “you can do this”. You might surprise yourself. I did. For me, the first year or two adjustment period was the worst psychologically, and physically as I repeatedly overdid it and crashed. But I still have a worthwhile, meaningful, and good life, even with this crappy illness, and sometimes exceptionally crappy days where nothing at all seems good. Those days pass. 


I wish you all the best. 


May be an image of flower, nature and tree



PS. Here are some links to previous posts of mine that are relevant, listed from earliest to latest: 

- Missing and multiplicity (the second half)



Friday, 5 August 2022

It's not your fault you're sick (An anti wellness-blog blog post)

This post is for my fellow sufferers of chronic illness. I thought that some of you might need to hear this. 

IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT YOU'RE SICK!


You are not a failure for not having “cured yourself”. 


I am saying this from the perspective of someone who was disgustingly healthy prior to getting sick. (A doctor once said those words to me when I went for a bus license medical). But I imagine it might be harder not to blame yourself if you have a messier background than I do, especially one that involves mental health challenges, or even just a life of working and partying hard and not really looking after your body, like most people do when they are young. Feelings of inadequacy about not being able to “cure yourself” can also be triggered when you are given unsolicited health advice from friends or strangers*, or if you have been reading too much stuff by predatory ‘wellness’ businesses who want to sell you some overpriced ‘cure’. ** 


I think that a lot of people can’t deal with the fact that they also live in highly vulnerable bodies, and it’s basically just highly tenuous luck that they themselves are still healthy. Recently I have been triggered by the cavalier attitude with which some acquaintances have been treating covid and their post-covid fatigue. I have been repeating myself like a broken record on social media  “Don’t push yourself! I was as healthy as you beforehand. I never thought something like this would happen to me. A post viral illness caused the end of my world as I knew it”. But, they either must not believe the extent of my disability, not believe it will happen to them. This can hurt, as it may reveal that they consciously or subconsciously feel superior to me - that what happened to me couldn’t happen to them. That I must’ve done something wrong, or be inferior in some way. But I used to have blissfully ignorant health arrogance too. And humans just don't seem to be very good with inconvenient truths.


Prior to getting sick, of course I wasn’t 100% perfectly healthy and wholesome. But I’d say I was above average. For example: 



  • I exercised heartily every day, not because I had an exercise addiction and toxic body image issues, but because I genuinely enjoyed it. 

  • I wasn’t athlete-level fit or anything, but I had A LOT of energy -  I used to ride my pushbike up Lynton ave (the steepest street in my home town of Hobart - a city of many steep streets) 

  • I slept well 

  • I only drank alcohol rarely and in moderation. 

  • I never smoked or took other drugs. (I was a daggy bushwalker, not a party animal.) 

  • I ate lots of (often organic) wholegrains, vegetables and pulses and never ate fast food as an adult. (I was a vegetarian for a couple of years in my early 20s, but never a vegan.)

  • I grew up, and still live, in Tasmania where we have some of the cleanest air and water in the world. 

  • I had a healthy and non-traumatic childhood. (I get that some people think we’re all traumatised just from living in this society and of course I have my quirks, weirdy bits, hurts and vulnerabilities, but also, I am a cisgendered, heterosexual, neurotypical, white woman without any mental health issues, who grew up in a loving, middleclass family and until me/cfs, had no major difficulties in my life. So beat that for privilege and ease)

  • As an adult I led a low-toxic-chemical life. I never wore make up or perfume, I hated stinky cleaning products, I didn’t even wear deodorant for many years (I was a dirty, smelly hippy who worked in the bush as a guide and ranger most of my working life.). Basically the only products I use are toothpaste and scentless soap, and nowadays some hippy-deodorant. 

  • I have no family history of ME/CFS or anything similar. There is no inbreeding in my family, I was born ‘naturally’ and breastfed. I was probably allowed to eat dirt as a baby. I was not a sickly child. I got colds and flus like a normal person. I only went to hospital a couple of times, once to extract a broken sewing needle from my foot, and twice for broken bones (I jumped off a swing at 8, and I rode my bike into a post at 15). 

  • I’ve always had a generally pretty happy “positive” disposition. I have a healthy skepticism though, and am not a fan of magical thinking, nor “toxic positivity”. 



Healthy wild beach frolic times, pre CFS



But, at age 33, I still got really, debilitatingly sick with ME/CFS. 


I’ve had SO many blood tests to try to find out why. I’m not deficient in anything. There is nothing abnormal in my tests, except glandular fever which isn’t even unusual, as most of the population is exposed to the Epstein-Barr virus at some point. In fact, according to a fancy blood test algorithm calculator tool that one of my doctors used, I’m over 80% healthy. (Hahahaha - yep, me who hasn’t been able to do aerobic exercise for over 6 years without being bedbound for weeks to months afterwards, and gets jealous of how much energy the old people have on the tv show “old people’s home for 4 year olds"!). 


I have tried a whole bunch of things to get better. None of them have made any noticeable difference. Some of them I have not seen any logic to, but I’ve tried them anyway, because I’m a desperate sick person, or some of them were free or gifted by friends. 


  • SO MANY SUPPLEMENTS. Thousands of dollars of supplements ( I am ashamed to admit).  (Zinc, iron, b12 injections, all the B vitamins, Vitamin C, Vitamin D, fish oil, NAC, Calcium, CoQ10, Magnesium, “Adrenal formula”, black cumin seeds, Lysine, oregano oil, PEA, curcumin, shilajat, anything I read about on any cfs blog). 

  • Various ‘detoxing’ practices such as epsom salt baths, saunas (thanks to the previous owners, we have one under our house!), dry brushing, and taking charcoal and clay pills. 

  • Because some hippies think electromagnetic fields (EMFs) are a thing, I “earth” myself every day (by touching the ground), and turn off the wifi at night. I even tried a grounding mat on my bed. I don’t have any major electrical things near where I sleep and I’ve never been good at remembering to carry my mobile phone around.

  • I have seen a psychologist, and done two courses of cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) (one for cfs and one for endometriosis). 

  • Acupuncture and Traditional Chinese Medicine (a bit here and there early on, then a dedicated 8 months last year)

  • Shiatsu, float tank, reiki, reflexology. 

  • Jumping in painfully freezing cold water and hyperventilating like Wim Hoff. 

  • Paleo diet, keto diet, low histamine diets, diets diets diets, bla, bla, bla.

  • To try and target my endometriosis (a coexisting inflammatory condition), I have tried yet more expensive supplements recommended by a naturopath, pelvic physiotherapy, special stretches and CBT. I have tried going on and off the pill, which I use to manage severe endometriosis pain, to see if that affected the cfs. 

  • Homeopathic antiviral woowoo drops from 2 different practitioners

  • POO TRANSPLANT! Yes I have actually tried a poo transplant. A friend generously offered his special shit, after having significant success treating his wife’s long-standing mental health issues with FMT. (We used the blender method. It was gross).

  • Two different medications for POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia) prescribed by a cardiologist - florinef and midodrine. Florinef means your kidneys retain more sodium and your blood pressure increases. Midodrine is a vasoconstrictor that increases your blood pressure. Also, electrolytes to raise my blood pressure. 

  • Mestinon - a medication for a different disease (myasthenia gravis), that I read a couple of anecdotes on the internet about helping with cfs. (I judged this to be a low risk experiment, and my doctor agreed, but its possible taking this drug contributed to my big crash in 2020. It correlated anyway). 

  • Buying an expensive HEPA vacuume, in case there was an unknown pollutant in my house (e.g. mould) making me sick. I also spent over $400 getting a mould test on my house, which didn’t reveal anything too bad, and have done a few blood tests, none of which are strongly indicative of a mould problem. (Mould, however, is a massive can of worms that I have barely scratched the surface of, due to the expense of international testing, and that the cure is to go live in a tent in the desert)

  • Drinking only filtered water for the past 3 years. 

  • Dark green smoothies made from garden weeds (and kale)

  • Four extremely woo-woo extremo-practitioners. (One said I was allergic to my wristband step counter and gave me some other tone-deaf advice like I should go to the beach more. Another one said someone has been very angry at me. Another “charged” some water with vibrations using a special machine connected to a computer that was connected to a device I put my hand on. Another told me she intuited that I actually knew what was making me sick, implying I was just in denial or something. Ugh.)

  • Had vitamin c infused into my veins! Twice! This was very expensive (over $200 a pop). (It’s supposed to be antiviral and was recommended by my integrative doctor.)

  • Various gut healing and parasite killing protocols. (More  diets. Diets diets diets bla bla bla). 

  • Dynamic Neural Retraining System. (Similar programs include Gupta program and the Lightning process). These are based on a rather dodgy theory of me/cfs, and basically you repeatedly tell your autonomic nervous system to stop being sick and get well. 

  • Red light therapy (a friend lent me a machine)

  • Craniosacral therapy (this unproven practice felt good at the time, and usually made me very wiped out after a session. I continued with treatments as I actually felt something, but gave up when there was no long term improvement.

  • Listened to SO many podcasts and read all the books in the library about recovering from me/cfs and other autoimmune conditions, and took copious notes, and thought wistfully “If only I could go see this practitioner in that country who seems to talk so confidently about curing me/cfs”. (Often ordered the supplements they mentioned, then got overwhelmed when they actually arrived and put them under the bed.)



Some things I continue to do because I like them and/or they help me manage my cfs. But they are management tools, not a cure. These include: 

  • 16:8 fasting

  • Yoga, everyday

  • Meditation everyday. (I even think about my chakras while meditating sometimes. It’s nice). 

  • Practicing sleep hygiene (this doesn't mean clean pjamas, it means putting down my screen at 9pm, and going to bed at the same time every night). 

  • Herbal sleeping pills when I’ve overdone it and I’m too wired to sleep. 

  • Time in nature as much as possible

  • Slow breathing practices

  • Eating organic kale and blueberries everyday. And a mostly plant-based, low carb, unprocessed diet, with a small amount of wallaby, chicken, eggs and cheese. Gluten-minimum and dairy-minimum. Lots of raw salads in summer, and warm cooked food in winter. (This is a diet that helps me have stable blood sugar, that I can sustain, feel satisfied on, enjoy, digest, and has enough nutrients - which I know because I've done a lot of pedantic diet tracking via an app)

  • Swims in nice cool water in summer

  • Low dose naltrexone. (I’m pretty sure this helped clear up my brain fog when I started it in 2018. I have no idea if it’s still doing anything.)

  • Lots of practices that calm down my nervous system that is overactive and gets very easily stressed these days (imaginary qigong, yoga nidra, tapping). 

  • Naps, every fucking day. 

  • Extremely cautious, boring and slow pacing of all my activities and constant vigilance of my body’s subtle signs that tell me I've done too much. (Using a heart rate monitor helped)



My friend Millie's cartoon of CFS treatment bingo



Of course, none of the things I have tried, I have done ENOUGH. Yeah I tried the paleo diet, but did I try it for long enough? Did I drink enough bone broth? Was it organic enough? Did I not buy the expensive-enough supplements? Should I have continued to take the woowoo drops instead of being a close minded skeptical person? Was I this close to a breakthrough when I pulled the pin on the TCM experiment after 8 months last year? Didn't I know you have to do at least six FMTs before you notice a difference? Also, I have not tried butthole sunning, or a coffee enema or anything with crystals. 


(Geez Jen, do you even want to get better if you haven't tried bumhole sunning?)


Huh. A friend who is a nurse told me about a grumpy, pessimistic patient who got better despite himself. He wished he could die, but his body didn’t let him. My body is the opposite. I mean, I’m sure the poor thing is doing its best. It’s just something has gone seriously glitchy. I have no idea why. It’s got to be epigenetic. It might be partly due something in the modern world, like a pollutant or toxin. There are several theories, and a good chance that me/cfs will be classified as an autoimmune disorder some time in the future. (I really do not want anyone I know to get long covid, but the more people who do, the better chance we finally get some research into long lasting post viral illnesses).


If you get sick yourself, I wouldn’t tell you not to try the things I have listed above, even if most haven’t worked for me. Everybody is different, and what doesn’t work for some, does work for others. But, you know what? You don’t have to! You do not have to keep trying expensive, unproven things to prove to society that you are trying your best not to be a sick loser. You don’t have to turn yourself into a pharmacological experiment. (You could do more harm than good). You especially do not have to try anything if you are under financial stress and can barely afford housing or food. Sure, some of the free treatments are worth a try - how else are we supposed to fill out time with CFS other than recreational supplement scoffing and special occasion poo transplants? (Bumhole sunning even looks like a very pleasant pastime, if you are lucky enough to have a private location and don't get sunburnt.) And who knows, maybe your fatigue isn't actually due to me/cfs, maybe you are just gluten intolerant and/or overstressed. So, definitely try going gluten-free, meditation and quitting things that make you stressed. But, you don’t have to do anything else. 


I am pretty burned out by trying all those things. (Especially stupid boring diets!). It is really hard to do experiments on yourself, as there are too many variables in day to day life. Myself and a friend often joke about our CFS ups and downs being caused by the position of Jupiter. I think that some people just get better naturally, then attribute it to whatever woowoo treatment they were doing at the time. (Maybe the woowoo helped them relax enough to recover). Maybe they didn’t have real cfs. It’s gonna be hard to tell until we have a widely available diagnostic test. There are millions of people with me/cfs around the world experimenting on themselves, plus increasing investment in actual research due to long covid. I’m sure I’ll hear about it if something actually reliably works. 



Damn you Jupiter!



So, please don’t feel personally inadequate for getting sick and not recovering. If you’re gonna blame something, blame capitalism for making too many of us push ourselves beyond what is good for us, and for producing a plethora of dodgy environmental toxins. Blame the patriarchy for ignoring diseases that mainly affect women. Or, you could not waste your time and energy on blaming anything. Especially not yourself. 


Here is a nice poem:

 

If you get sick, I love you


If you get sick

I will not tell you

You should've eaten better 

Exercised more

Taken herbs

Worn a condom

Stayed Sober

Been Safer


I will not try to figure out

at what precise moment 

of your particular, human carelessness

you contracted the disease.  


I will not tell you it's your fault

that you were selfish

or high risk

or reckless

with this body of yours

vulnerable as mine and

just as capable

of betrayal


I will not say

well, what did you expect

it was just a matter of time

you get what you deserve

you asked for it

Because if shame was medicine

We'd all be healed by now. 


I'll think about how viruses

are proteins, 

looking for hosts, 

and how we are animals, 

alive and desperate, 

warm blooded and whole, 

and how we are humans, 

exposed and terrified, 

making up stories of 

borders and boundaries, 

as if we live in

self-contained units

where nothing comes in

and nothing goes out. 


Honey - 

if you get sick, 

(when you get sick)

I will love you

I will ask what you need

to feel better

and I will do my very best

to get you that

cup of ramen

extra blanket

hbo log in

pack of spirits

grocery delivery. 


And I will keep loving these bodies

yours and mine

that are always our own and

always each others, 

porous and sublime, 

that make way for touch

as they make way for sickness. 


I will tell you that you're not alone

send you memes

and whisper your name

in soft prayers of healing

by the hot pink candle

on my window sill. 


I'll send my biggest rate and grief

to the state, the stars, the forces

that abandon us, 

that makes us go to work

and then pay for healthcare

and pay to survive. 



(I'm sorry I do not know who to attribute this poem to, apart from an instagram account called "69 herbs", which sounds pretty dodgy, but thank you so-far anonymous poet, you can be our imaginary friend.)




*I know most is meant well. 

** I believe many practitioners may truly believe in what they do, but there also many unethical businesses make money selling bullshit to desperate people.)





________________________________________________________________________________


Final note: There’s one thing I wish I didn’t do when I first had CFS, and that is push myself. But I don’t blame myself. I knew in theory that I had to rest and take it easy, I just didn’t know what that actually meant in practice. It was such a dramatic change from how I operated in my body for the prior 33 years of life when I would often push through sickness, with no major consequences, and I would exercise to get myself out of a funk.


I literally suffered from too much optimistic thinking in my first year of illness. I WANTED to go for walks so badly. I assumed I would eventually recover. I didn’t know how to read the signs of an impending crash - how a very minor ache in my glands could preclude weeks of crushing fatigue, or how surges of adrenaline and anxiety could also preclude a crash - feelings that I used to exercise to deal with. I hadn’t learned that I needed to have a nap everyday, even if I didn’t feel tired. No one gave me an operating manual for my new sick body. Post exertional malaise was a very confusing phenomenon. It was an ugly period of trial and error/ push and crash.  It wasn’t until I started pacing with a heart rate monitor, a year and a half later, that I learned just how very slowly I had to go. Even then, it was such a challenge to actually go that slow, because it was so boring. But it is the best thing that I have learned to manage CFS.