Party

A few weeks ago (when I was feeling somewhat less fatigued than now) I proposed to my housemates that we throw a party to celebrate the birthday that two of us share (exact same date) and as a kind of housewarming for me as I moved in only a month ago. The day of the party came and somehow we managed to pull it off despite most guests either cancelling or failing to show at all. My disappointment was mild, being more preoccupied with how exactly I would last a whole 4/5 hours of hosting. I kept telling myself, "it's ok you can go lie down whenever you need to and keep chatting to a minimum and just sit as still as possible". These were the thoughts I was having, never-mind the normal pre-party worries of whether I'm over-dressed and have I got enough booze in to last me til the wee hours...?! Despite knowing I was just too poorly, I was loathe to cancel at the last minute and am not comfortable with the idea of simply leaving my housemates to entertain the guests (I seem to have coerced more people in to coming than the others!). In a fit of panic I rang my auntie and revealed to her my concerns. She reminded me that it's not my fault that I'm unwell and that it's perfectly ok to just speak to housemates and let them know i'm struggling; and it would equally be understandable if I were to cancel my guests. She also encouraged me to focus on right now rather than letting my mind run away, conjuring fictional scenarios in pre-emptive guilt. I took her advice and ventured downstairs ready to "break the news" of my feeling less-than-prepared for the evening ahead. As it turned out the one housemate I could find, who was happily preparing the house by rearranging furniture, carving pumpkins and making soup from the innards!, was completely unperturbed by my confession. All that turmoil and in the end it really was a simple communication issue. By the time people arrived, I had rested enough to be able to get suitably glamourised and adjusted my mind to party-mode for long enough to enjoy a glass (or two!) of Cava, a spot of conversation with some previously long-lost acquaintances and even a couple of songs-worth of dancing... the trouble started later. I realised, around the 2am mark that I was going to struggle to get any sleep that night. I'm no stranger to the temptations of a good ole shindig but some people really do take it too far. By the time I'd pacified the police, and had a huge row with the ex, and gone downstairs in my pyjamas at 4.30am to request/insist that the music be turned down (as it was impossible to sleep even with earplugs) I was thoroughly fed-up and starting to think that maybe I should've gone with the initial cancellation instincts. The next three days were a complete write-off. In fact, I've found myself still, ten days later, laid up in bed at my aunty and uncle's house. I completely underestimated how much one night of overdoing it could set me back. Although, there are so many factors to be taken in to account - I know this. But I can't help but trace this current state of extreme fatigue back to that night. Things had been building up for a while. Prior to the party I had my birthday, which I celebrated modestly with a trip to the pub with fish&chips thrown in (back in bed by 11pm) and I was also recovering from the plane journey back from Spain. Flying with Ryanair is no picnic at the best of times, but when you're suffering from chronic back pain and find it difficult to sit up for longer than 20 minutes coupled with constant fatigue and headaches, not to mention the lingering sore throat, being confined to an uncomfortable seat with no leg room and a stranger on either side for 3 and a half hours is torture. Having to heave my case over my head to shove it in to an already jam-packed overhead locker was not an option, but trying to get someone to help was an ordeal in itself. The first three people I asked completely ignored me, thankfully the fourth turned out to be a thoroughly kind and helpful chap who could see that I genuinely needed a hand. Getting in at 12.30am and having to wait 40 minutes for a taxi was less-than-ideal when I was just desperate to get home in to bed. I'm only realising now how much that travelling all that way, followed by birthday and the party really took it out of me. With no reserves of energy to keep me ticking over I really can't afford to be getting so depleted. No longer able to keep up the pretense of being ok, I came to stay with family a week ago (thankfully my aunty came to pick me up otherwise I don't think i would've made it even though it's only a 40 minute train ride away) and have been pretty much consigned to bed the whole time. I tried going out on Sunday, just for a short walk up to the corner shop, but even that was too much for my aching body and pounding head to handle. On the way back my legs felt like they might give way, my heart was racing and my vision starting to go black. I was shaking from the exertion when I got back to the house and I was overcome with nausea. Unsurprisingly, the experience eradicated any doubt that I need to remain in bed and limit any moving around to only within the house. Of course I've been struggling with anxiety and frustration, at times getting so desperate I think I can't stand another moment of crushing exhaustion, and then at other times I remember how fortunate I am to be here safely ensconced in my relatives' house and being expertly taken care of, with ample friends and family surrounding me with love and concern. I know that it's going to take time, maybe months, to build up my energy levels. Accepting that is a big part of the challenge; but entirely necessary if I'm going to get through this. Mental attitude is the key now. Writing this represents a breakthrough for me as the previous weeks have been such a struggle that I've not felt the inclination to try condensing my gargantuan suffering in to words. I don't want to sound dramatic here; i'm being completely frank. I have found through my extensive personal knowledge of illness, that being modest and downplaying how hard it is actually delays the healing process. It's only once the true extent of the pain has been acknowledged that we can start to work towards diminishing it.