To be honest with you all, I am suffering slightly from writer’s block. If this was a cheesy musical, at this moment in time I would start speaking in a shockingly bad Camden Town twang before I tried to encompass the talents and cool exterior of Just Jack whilst singing,
“ I get this writers block,
it comes and quite a shock,
Now I’m stuck between a hard place
and the biggest rock.”
However, before I would even get to the chorus, I would be knocked down by the barrage of Buckfast Tonic Wine bottles that would be thrown in my direction for acting like a massive twit, (twit with an A instead of an I). As much fun as it would be to burst into song and dance to celebrate defining moments of our day, such as ordering your ham, cheese and tomato panini, there is no place for it in the real world as it would just make people bloody annoying! So instead, I sit in my room, covered with my Superman blanket for warmth (don’t laugh, my Superman blanket was a gift from my amazing friend Kylie, who’s now dead. Nah only kidding she is still very much alive, I just love my blanket and don’t want people to take the piss out of the fact that I am 24 and have a superman blanket). As I sit and ponder about why I can’t think of anything to write I realise that unlike Just Jack this hasn’t actually came as that much of a shock as the period I am trying to write about is December and January.
Since last February I had seen a massive improvement in my legs on a week by week basis, however, after November things seemed to change. It may have been the fact that the more I did, the more I wanted to achieve, I no longer needed to use my stick in the house so I assumed that it wouldn’t be long until I was walking outside without it too, I had been able to start to do more socially so thought it wouldn’t be long until I could do something all day, everyday and not get one bit tired from it. However, it seemed that over the months of December and January progress seemed to stagnate. I may now have been walking to the local shop during my daily exercise but trying to surpass this proved to be too much, it was beyond frustrating. I wanted to get back on track and to do that I needed to progress, not just stop and take a break in the middle ground for the foreseeable future and so for the next few weeks frustration and dissatisfaction consumed my time.
It was only after spending weeks in this mind set and getting extremely tired of it (I missed the positivity) that I took a step back and realised that my progress had actually not stagnated at all but that I had forgot to appreciate the smaller things I was achieving. I remember when my legs first buggered up and I started tapping my feet to the music again for the first time, seems small but it was a massive achievement at the time but now instead of appreciating every new feet tapping moment, I was trying to run.
That’s the thing with M.E, you make a lot of progress so feel like you should then be back on par with how “normal” folk recover, but it’s not like that. Its small steps every bit of the way and its important more than ever for me to appreciate every single one of these moments, no matter how minuscule they seem.
Next time on the Sam and M.E Blog: Sam makes a triumphant return!