Diary of a Meep-crash
Day 1: This is a scary thing to be doing
I am a perfectionist when it comes to writing. OK, I’m a perfectionist, full stop. So to be writing and posting without any planning, editing, or rewriting, ON THE PUBLIC INTERNET, daily, when my brain is a foggy cesspit from hell, is a scary thing for me to do.
And I’m sure it will be rubbish and boring.
But that’s OK. [I reserve the right, once I’m out of this crash, to delete everything I’ve posted.]
In the past few days, since I realised I was definitely in a proper crash, I’ve been doing bits of writing, and finding it very helpful. I’ve never written this way before, deliberately documenting a process. Writing for my future self, the person I am the next time this happens, that I might have some kind of road map. There’s something very comforting about it. In imagining these words holding a future me, I hold myself in the now.
It’s new for me to approach an ME crash as a process at all. It’s new for me not to be paralysed by the fear that it will never end. It makes me proud of myself, for all the work I’ve done on dealing with this illness, mainly without help or guidance. Because so little help or guidance, it seems, is out there for people like me. What’s out there is a whole world of people who will fix, patronise, judge, label, invalidate, gaslight and otherwise make themselves superior to, the person with ME. And I include in that GPs, specialists, psychological therapists, alternative therapists and all manner of other professional people.
So yeah. Here I am, in bed, unable to do very much, waiting it out.
Still here, though, never giving up.