I am better. I am. I don’t get as fatigued as easily – it takes a lot more to push me to that point now than it did in February. Of course, I am also incredibly tired of the whole thing – and yet I know it is nothing compared to other people.
But I am also better at handling it, I think. I still go out to events that I am invited to – but I may leave earlier when I reach my limit. Just getting out there feels like a huge triumph.
I am also trying to factor in that if I attend big events (lots of people, lots of things happening.) I should not be making plans to do a lot of stuff the day afterwards. It is okay to lie in bed the whole day after I have been social and out and about. And anything beyond that – is a bonus.
A month or two ago, I had a very full week. There was a birthday celebration, a national day celebration, an overnight trip with work, and Eurovision parties. By the time the Friday came around, I was knackered. And a trip to drive to Bergen to a friend’s Eurovision party was deemed too much.
And on the Saturday, I was very low key, yet the Sunday saw me in bed. All day.
I am trying to learn to listen to my body – but not listen too much. Accept that aches and pains are there, and then push it a bit to the side and deal with it later. But at the same time, I feel the need to push a bit.
To do fun things.
To see fun people.
Of course, it also means that when I plan a holiday for later in August, I am trying to factor in *when* will the fatigue hit – when will the depression hit. And the solution is actually at the moment to plan that I will likely end up spending some time in bed during the day while on holiday – and then not fill up the days by set appointments. And book an apartment hotel, so I can buy food for the refrigerator and not *have* to venture out everytime I get hungry – but adapt to the situation.
Accepting it.