A different kind of progress

The progress I have made cannot be measured in how far I can walk, or how long I can be out of bed for. Well, it can, but you’d likely say that there’s been no progress at all.

But when you look at me as a person that’s where the growth and the progress is I think.

Feeling proud of myself is still a relatively new thing. It’s been one of the nicest, more-unlikely, outcomes of living with M.E. Many of you have unknowingly helped me get to this place of allowing myself to feel this sense of pride.

I grew up thinking that merely acknowledging one’s strengths was being big-headed and arrogant.

I was treated unkindly at school for my accomplishments. And so I wonder if I learnt to keep them quiet. I got so much unkindness thrown at me that perhaps I learnt that not owning up to my achievements and skills, might mean the unkindness wouldn’t get any worse.

But I am learning that you are allowed to be, and admit to being, proud of yourself. And you don’t need to have achieved anything in the conventional sense to feel that way.

There are times when I now feel proud of myself every single day. Trying to live as best I can with M.E allows me that feeling.

What I, and what you, endure in a single day is not something people should have to experience. The symptoms are just the tip of the iceberg.

I’m proud of myself and I’m proud of you. And I admire you greatly.

I so often wish that you could all see yourselves through my eyes. I know we shouldn’t have to be resilient in all the ways that we are. I know we shouldn’t have to be patient. I know we shouldn’t have to be accepting of our health. But we are, as best as we can be. Every damn day. That is absolutely remarkable. And I’m proud of us for that.

Published by Anna Redshaw

Blogging about life in the slow lane with an invisible, chronic illness. I wasn't always a sick chick so this is somewhat of a life changing experience!

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