A farewell letter to chronic fatigue
As I’m sitting here, writing this letter, I feel incredibly grateful. I hope my story can serve as an inspiration to others.
As I’m sitting here, writing this letter, I feel incredibly grateful. I hope my story can serve as an inspiration to others.
The fear of symptoms makes them much worse, stronger, they last longer and steal all the focus. At least that was how it was for me. I got more tired because the fear stole all my focus, and I felt anxious all the time while I was waiting to feel better. The fear aggravated my symptoms.
Author: Woman Gradually my body ground to a halt, and I could feel the strength just seeping out of me. I was twenty and studying higher education. I was also an active athlete and wanted to focus fully on my … Continued
The story starts at the end of 2014 when I came back to Russia after several years of living, studying, and working abroad. The first year of being back to Russia was kind of hard emotionally and it is hard to say why exactly.
I was 23 in 2013. I was travelling at least once a month; I was a student with three part-time jobs and had taken on various other duties. I was also working out and was very active.
It is almost six years since I first detected that something was wrong with my body. My life was stable and generally happy back then; I had a partner, my studies, and a network of good people. For years, I had enjoyed working out and exercising, as it gave me a boost of energy and put me in a good mood, but now suddenly I seemed to get some sort of ‘hangover’ when I’d been exercising; feeling exhausted, getting a slight ‘brain fog’ and generally feeling irritable for up to a week after a training session.
I got sick in the summer of 2014. I was healthy and in great physical shape, and then suddenly I was just lying there. My body had collapsed. I couldn’t for the life of me understand what was going on.
I here choose to write my story wishing that others may benefit from it, that it may provide hope of recovery for them. I am presently 54 years old, married and I have four adult children. I work as a therapist for students.
“The only way to make ends meet is to burn the candle at both ends!”
(Written on the 20th of October 2016, but I do not publish it until I am a long way into recovery, so that no one thinks of it as a flash in the pan.)