the unravelling

There was an alumni day at our old theological college yesterday, so we made our first visit since Andy had graduated (the year after I did). I am so very glad we went, although I found it an emotional experience. It started even before we got there, the aching familiarity of the roads and the places which signified we were nearly there, things I used to note delightedly on returning at the beginning of each term. Because it was such a formative place for me, such a beloved place, and although it wasn't always easy, it was always somewhere I was utterly real, and safe to be so. And so it began before we even got there, a kind of unravelling, as the familiarity of such a place stole over me and made me realise how weary I really was - all the way through - and I was fighting tears even then.

The talks given by former lecturers - no longer there now but familiar to us - tugged at me, in various ways. I remained in this tearful state off and on all day, simultaneously laughing at it, self conscious and embarrassed by it - and yet I don't think they were destructive, unhelpful tears. It was more like suddenly finding an old, familiar, utterly trustworthy friend and falling into their arms in relief for a while - utterly honest about where you've been and how you are feeling.

The fatigue has become such a dominant factor in life, and I have gone on stoically, because I have to, but so often it frustrates me. Yesterday this welled up - but turned into something gentler, healthier, in a moment of utter safety. This was the place which always managed to tenderly uncover my bruises - those known to me and those not known, and by the support of friends found, brought healing and a sense of discovery.

And the buzz of being back in an environment where I learned so much - and loved to learn so much! It reminded me, impacted me, reinvigorated me for study of that which used to inspire and challenge me. I expected not to feel the same old fit - I have changed, and so has the college, a different student body, some changes in lecturers (but so wonderful to see the ones that remain!), but instead I found myself feeling a perfect fit, going back and feeling the same old feeling of both comfort and challenge, safety and discovery. I'm hoping to carry this feeling on...not to lose it, but recapture a part of me which has been worn down, worn out, left behind and given up...and if that journey occasionally means my eyes fill with tears of relief, pain and joy all at once, so be it.



Yesterday: 5/10, medium
Today: 4/10, medium - high

yesterday

Yesterday I had my first group session with the CFS/ME service (which I mention here). It went well, in that I felt very relaxed - once I was there - and there is something rather free-ing about being with others who understand. You can see the relief dawn on people's faces when they realise - I am not the only one.

Of course, and ironically, I was absolutely shattered afterwards. Thankfully my bus arrived as soon as I'd arrived at the bus stop and ferried me home (can a bus be said to ferry?!) And my headache, frustratingly, became ferocious.

There are another 4 weekly sessions to attend then I'm back on my own, although I'm hoping to establish some contacts with others through the process. I may join a regional support network eventually. there was one in the area where I grew up as a teenager, but I never wanted to have anything to do with that at that age. I was so fed up of being labelled, and leery of being different in any additional way (it's hard enough being a normal teenager, isn't it?). I think the main thing was that it gave it a kind of definiteness, a permanency which I couldn't bare to adhere to it - as if by grouping myself with other sufferers I could never shake it, nor the label of it.

It's different now of course. No longer an embarrassed teenager, I have come to recognise the benefits of the support of others, and through this programme appreciate the relief it can bring - being able to share a similar experience. Also, I suppose after 15 years of having it to some degree, I am no longer afraid of making it feel definite and real and permanent - it's here, and that's that. I was much better at various points in that time. I don't want anyone to think I have been the way I am now for all that time. I had a relapse a couple of years ago so it has been bad since then. Prior to that I was managing, albeit not as strongly as someone without it, but still managing.

And I do believe I have received healing at various points along the way - that through the prayers of others I have been kept safe from getting worse at times, and have made significant, renewing, improvements. One of these was particularly notable, when I felt a dose of energy from God which blasted out all the rotten fatigue. I don't believe a relapse now negates the healing then.

Anyway. Today I have some things to do, including cleaning out Charlie. He is inside because this week is the week of Nov 5th - Bonfire Night here in the UK. Not that he is particularly fazed by loud noises, laid back horizontal bun that he is, but I wouldn't want him scared. (My old dog Misty was terrified, even of thunder).

Now, didn't I just say I had things to do?!!


Today: 4/10, medium - high
Yesterday: 5-4/10, high

when the day comes

when the day comes
all that hinders
will fall away
like a shedding skin

and the eagle will rise

when the day comes
all will be mended
and re-formed
into utter lightness

and the eagle will rise

when the day comes
the heart's fetters
will break open
and crumble to dust

and the eagle will rise

and may she soar
on wings unbroken
utterly alive
utterly free
utterly whole

may she glide
may she dream
may she live

when the day comes