Escape

I'm writing this from my parent's house in the south of Spain, sitting outside in the shade with the light October breeze tickling the leaves on the tropical-looking trees. I've come here in an attempt to get away from the stresses and strains of my "normal" life back in UK, hoping the relaxation and warm air will facilitate a decrease in anxiety and an increase in energy. So far (second day here) I definitely feel more relaxed though I have been confined mostly to bed/sofa - I'm still recovering from the journey which left me exhausted.

After yet another restless night spent tossing and turning, listening to the incessant barking of neglected dogs, I came to the conclusion that I must once again return to that most cathartic of activities: writing. I often feel that I have very little to offer the world in this state of constant crippling fatigue; a state that descended upon me some six months ago and is showing no signs of lifting any time soon. At the age of 26 (almost 27) I feel this to be most unfair and entirely incongruous with my lively, sociable personality. That's the saddest part - no longer able to enjoy meeting with friends, I am forced to spend long, protracted days alone speculating on what I could be doing if only I had the energy. And yet, determined to live fully within the constraints of illness, I am somehow able to derive a kind of pleasure from the solitude, viewing it as a blessing in disguise; a much-needed reprieve from the stresses and strains of a fully integrated life. I have the luxury of getting to know myself better and to think creatively about how to use what little energy I do have in a way that's fulfilling. Whilst grappling with the recurring frustration of "what am I going to do with my life?" and equally distressing, "how on earth can I contribute positively to the world when I'm struggling to function on a basic level?!" I was suddenly able to perceive clearly that there is a way forward. I realised that my energy levels can be exponentially increased through altruistic action. Not in the sense of sacrificing my own needs for others, or somehow acting as a martyr for the sake of the "greater good", but in a holistic, joyful, unfettered way - I realised that it is absolutely possible to create value in society whilst respecting one's given set of physical circumstances. The important distinction to make is that in order to pursue a life of absolute fulfillment, it is vital to ask yourself two simple questions: "what makes me happy?" and "what am I good at?" Tormented by sleeplessness and plagued by doubt and insecurities I asked myself these questions last night and the answer came, clear and resounding - I need to write.

So here I am, getting back to it. Creating something rather than merely consuming. Connecting with the world rather than simply disconnecting; feeling unworthy. Illness has a terrible habit of causing it's host to lose all sense of self. You forget who you are and what your purpose is. A daily battle must be waged against this insidious thinking if any progress is to be made. It's an invisible battle which is what makes it all the more deadly. From the outside, a person fighting this particular demon must probably look completely inactive; idle even. But if somehow it was possible to look deeper, in to that person's soul, then a momentous struggle could be witnessed. I have to mention at this point my Buddhist practice. It is my daily practice (chanting, study, and faith) that gives me the courage and tenacity to continue fighting my own negativity. The real benefit of practicing comes at those times when I feel I've hit rock bottom, that's when all those hours sat chanting and all that time spent studying and listening to others experiences finally kick in to action to support my life and raise me out of that hole. There is nothing more lonely than illness; it's when your friends desert you and your social life evaporates. A vacuum is created which can only be filled - in my case by a strong resolve to believe in my own potential coupled with a fierce determination to overcome this pain-filled cycle of exhaustion. I intend to use this blog to capture in words the process by which I can and will continuously come to terms with chronic illness in my life. I don't know how often I will post as I can never predict how much/little energy I will have at my disposal from one day to the next. I don't want this to become a burden; something I feel obliged to keep on top of. I prefer to think of this blog as an escape, a place I can come to when the feelings of being misunderstood threaten to overwhelm.

Until then...