One of the hardest things about this restricted life is not being able to be the person I feel I truly am. On the inside I’m still the same, but the restrictions of M.E. do not allow me to act in the things I want to do.
I’m talking about friendship really. I cannot be the friend I want to be, the friend I feel I truly am, because I am too unwell.
It doesn’t matter that I’d do certain things if I could. It doesn’t matter than my family and friends know I’d be there for them if I physically could be. It doesn’t matter that others will pass on my love or well wishes. It doesn’t matter that people understand I am simply too unwell myself to be with them right now.
It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that it’s out of my control and not my fault. It’s just unfair. The end.
I have been unable to support friends at their parents’ funerals for goodness sake. I’m not going to make a whole list, but from that you’ll get the gist.
I can’t stand that this illness stops me from being the person I was; the friend who was called in a crisis. Part of the support crew of friends who’d pick up the pieces whenever needed. I can’t do it. And it doesn’t matter that they know I would if I could. I want to be able to be that version of myself. And I can’t be.
This is not me fishing for compliments about the kind of friend you think I am. I’m not doing myself down here. I am the best friend I can be, but my point is that I’m too unwell to fulfil my full friend potential. And right now it’s really frustrating. I’m pretty angry about it actually.