Well, it looks like I've lost a couple of more friends. I'm 73 and haven't met many people in the small condo complex I moved into in 2014, partly because I was bedridden for a year after a five-disc cervical fusion I had shortly after moving in and partly because I've been pretty much housebound with ME/CFS since then (problems w/fatigue/unrefreshing sleep since 2000, diagnosed in 2004 and "formal" diagnosis in 2010). About a year ago I did finally become friends with a retired doctor (Doc) and another retiree bere, whom I'll call Tom. Tom and I would visit in lawn chairs in front of my condo for about an hour 1-2 times a week.
Like most of us with ME/CFS, I strive to be as active as possible but have learned by the many, many times I tried to outsmart the disease, that it can't be done. Having felt the repercussions of doing that I now attempt to pace myself, hoping to feel better more of the time. Evidently, the longer these two "friends" have known me the more critical of my pacing they've become. This has grown to the point where I don't see or hear from Doc anymore. He started making contact less and cutting our conversations short when I contacted him after he told me a couple of months ago, "You need more exercise" and when he left that day, "Don't forget to exercise."
Around that same time, I mentioned to Tom that I needed to stop pushing myself (sometimes I still do) because I always paid a price for doing so and he replied in a condescending tone, "I doubt you're pushing yourself." I have not heard from him since; when I see him at the pool in front of my unit, he just waves whereas before he would beckon me out to sit in the shade with him.
I've had to become emotionally tougher since acquiring this disease. I was forced to sell the business I built from the ground up, get used to being almost completely alone and to slowly stop hearing from people I've known for forty years and longer. Somehow I thought my "friendship" with these two men would be different. We were all mature, they weren't that physically active, and we had numerous things in common. I guess people are peop,le and we're all judgemental of others. I dunno...it does make me feel like I've lost something deeper; I feel more alienated, more alone. I've let a sadness set in and I'm angry.
Maybe Memorial Day has something to do with it. I'm a Vietnam veteran, rated 100% PTSD. Maybe, it's that every day when I write "2022" on my whiteboard (where I keep track of meds and days) I realize that it's been twenty years since my son was killed in a car wreck. His birthday is June 7.
I'm fortunate in one way, however. My stepson who I raised as a single parent and who lived with me until he was twenty-one still visits about every week and helps out in a bunch of ways. Sure do love him.
"This Too Shall Pass' I know. "I Refuse to Lose to Negative Thought" is my motto. I will overcome these feelings, but right now, I'm sad...and mad. Maybe I need to do another gratitude list... See, the answer always seems to come when I journal.
Like most of us with ME/CFS, I strive to be as active as possible but have learned by the many, many times I tried to outsmart the disease, that it can't be done. Having felt the repercussions of doing that I now attempt to pace myself, hoping to feel better more of the time. Evidently, the longer these two "friends" have known me the more critical of my pacing they've become. This has grown to the point where I don't see or hear from Doc anymore. He started making contact less and cutting our conversations short when I contacted him after he told me a couple of months ago, "You need more exercise" and when he left that day, "Don't forget to exercise."
Around that same time, I mentioned to Tom that I needed to stop pushing myself (sometimes I still do) because I always paid a price for doing so and he replied in a condescending tone, "I doubt you're pushing yourself." I have not heard from him since; when I see him at the pool in front of my unit, he just waves whereas before he would beckon me out to sit in the shade with him.
I've had to become emotionally tougher since acquiring this disease. I was forced to sell the business I built from the ground up, get used to being almost completely alone and to slowly stop hearing from people I've known for forty years and longer. Somehow I thought my "friendship" with these two men would be different. We were all mature, they weren't that physically active, and we had numerous things in common. I guess people are peop,le and we're all judgemental of others. I dunno...it does make me feel like I've lost something deeper; I feel more alienated, more alone. I've let a sadness set in and I'm angry.
Maybe Memorial Day has something to do with it. I'm a Vietnam veteran, rated 100% PTSD. Maybe, it's that every day when I write "2022" on my whiteboard (where I keep track of meds and days) I realize that it's been twenty years since my son was killed in a car wreck. His birthday is June 7.
I'm fortunate in one way, however. My stepson who I raised as a single parent and who lived with me until he was twenty-one still visits about every week and helps out in a bunch of ways. Sure do love him.
"This Too Shall Pass' I know. "I Refuse to Lose to Negative Thought" is my motto. I will overcome these feelings, but right now, I'm sad...and mad. Maybe I need to do another gratitude list... See, the answer always seems to come when I journal.
![ME/CFS lecture | Dr Nancy Klimas | 2011 [Chronic Fatigue Syndrome / SEID / New Zealand] - YouTube](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)
