wishes | FreeSvea Blog

It’s horrible to realize that you’re running out of time, and that you may not end up with the fulfilled life you’d always dreamed of. When you’re young and full of hope, you just assume that things will work out, and that your dreams will naturally come true.

But as I spotted Jess, an old friend, pushing a baby pram through the sliding glass doors of the shopping centre, the reality of my life hit me like a tonne of bricks. My worst nightmare realized. Well almost. It would have been had she seen me, and had I been forced to confront her with fake pleasantries and congratulations on the new baby, followed by the dreaded question from her “How have you been?” A question to which I would have to reply with a barrage of blatant lies. Or the Truth.

The truth was that since I’d last seen her four years ago, pretty much nothing had changed. I was still too unwell to work, living with my mother, unmarried, childless and without prospects, romantic or professional. The only thing that had changed significantly was my age. I was now in my mid 30s and heading for an almost certain midlife as a spinster, a cat lady, a sad, depressing blob of a losers.

So no surprise that I had a panic attack right there in the mall at the sight of her, and scurried back to the car, where I hid out until mum had finished the shopping. Yes, I was there with my mother, just like every Saturday morning grocery run.

Jess wasn’t so much an old friend, as she was an ex-friend. We had parted ways after a decade of close friendship, as Jess had been unable to cope with my health challenges. Being a psychologist, Jess had refused to see that my condition was anything but psychological. As had become evident, she had been judging me quite harshly for some time. Judgment which I could rather have done without, especially from my best friend. Unable to see eye to eye we had decided to go our separate ways.

The thing about Jess was that she never really wanted kids and marriage. So seeing her walk through those doors with a baby pram was like a massive punch in the gut. She now had everything I wanted, but didn’t have. A husband, a child, a career. A life! And what did I have. Bad posture, acne and the stamina of a 90-year-old.

Despite my persistent efforts to regain my health, there really had been no significant improvement for a couple of years, and I was still stuck at home on the couch watching TV day in and day out. That had pretty much been my life for the past 6 years, though I had been unwell for several years before this.

These were supposed to be my best years, my early adulthood. I should have been out exploring the world and living it up, dating and building a career. These should have been my fittest, strongest years. But instead my body had packed it in and refused to do most things I wanted it to. I couldn’t go out with friends, I couldn’t exercise, even most chores were too much. Taking a shower required a 15 min rest, as did preparing breakfast. It was a dull, repetitive and lonely existence. I was a prisoner in my own body. Under house arrest until further notice.

I always assumed my future would work out somehow. I was only in my mid 20s when I became too unwell to work, so I just sort of hoped that eventually I’d be well again, and I could fall in love and have children, make something of my life. But the reality was that I was now 33 and still no more well than I was two years ago. Was this what my life would be like?

I had always had such grand dreams of an exciting and plentiful life. A passionate and successful life. And here I was, with none of it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to have a family that love me, and a handful of true friends. I have a good roof over my head and can afford the things I need, thanks to my mother. But I felt like my life amounted to nothing. That I amounted to nothing. I had no value. Not really. I could only Take, and had nothing to Give. I was too tired to give. Too tired to give of myself.

That is what’s so devastating about fatigue. It displaces your true self. You disappear, and what replaces it is a dumbed down, grumpy, fragile version of you. You can’t be yourself when you are chronically exhausted. It’s not possible. And so in time you lose your sense of self almost completely. You forget who you used to be, and where you were going. And you start to think that this weak, depressed, dull, uninspired person who watches TV and naps all day, is really who you are. But it’s not! But that’s all you can see now, when you look in the mirror. And you think, that’s probably all that anyone can see when they look at you.

What is one to do? Most doctors don’t have a realistic grasp on what chronic fatigue is, let alone how to treat it. Even for the very few who do, treatment is complex, multifaceted and highly individualized. It’s a stab in the dark, that requires trial and error, time, money and a gritty determination and “Never Give Up” attitude on the part of both doctor and patient. A state of mind that can be tough to maintain when you’re exhausted.

Think back to a time when you felt really exhausted or run down. Maybe you had gone for several days with little or no sleep, or maybe you’d worked heavy overtime for a while. Maybe you had the flu, or maybe you’d just run a marathon. Did you feel like giving up? Did you feel like one more little nudge from life, would push you over the edge. Remember how you couldn’t think clearly or how hard it was to make even the smallest decision. Remember how emotional and moody you were. Imagine feeling like that all the time, or at least most of the time. Imagine feeling it for several years.

It can be difficult not to feel sorry for yourself. But I try not to think about the negative. In fact self-preservation makes me blissfully ignorant of the drabness of my life, most of the time. It’s a survival mechanism. But once in a while something happens that reminds you of the reality of your life. And sometimes that’s a good thing, because it forces you to take stock and re-evaluate. It rekindles your resolve to change things and to keep going, despite. It reminds you that you still have dreams and wishes, that you can feel things, and that you still long for a passionate, joyous life full of adventure. Full of hope.