Quite a few people have nudged me over the last week or two. "So, you know that other blog you started...?" Ummm, yeah. That would be this blog, here, wouldn't it?
I said I wanted this to be a chronicle of my recovery - and I do! It has to be said, however, that I started writing here in a fit of optimistic enthusiasm, prompted by my first visit to the ME/CFS clinic in Peterborough. I was determined: it was the start of a new era, a corner turned, the magic bullet was found, and it was going to be improvement after improvement, all the way, from here on in.
Of course, things don't work quite like that. I've been up and down, just like anyone else. Christmas was most enjoyable, but hard work - driving 200 miles each way to visit my parents, plus socialising, eating too much, staying up late, getting up late, and generally trying to shoehorn rests in around another family's schedule. It's probably safe to say that the weeks before Christmas were actually very hard - I know I spent a lot of time on the sofa - and that the recovery from Christmas was slow.
I didn't want my first post back to be a giant whine-vent-whinge session. And it's not. But it's not all wine and roses, either. I'm here. I've been resting. Energy levels have been *generally* improving. But slowly.
And I'll try to post more regularly from now on.