'M.E. myself and I' by Anna Redshaw

Much to some peoples’ surprise, you don’t get a holiday from M.E. In fact, to be away from home is akin to a monumental feat of often-epic proportions.

I had a very poorly, scary, sad couple of days, but then got to put my feet in sea and it’s such a weird little life of extremes, and contradictions, and a lot of confusing and baffling stuff. But it’s my little life, and it’s the only one I’ve got and I will love it as best as I can.

I’m still startlingly poorly on the easier days, but I’ve found that health doesn’t actually equal happiness. Happiness can be found here too. In the grubby grey area where you cannot be defined as anything but Unwell, yet gratitude for what you do have and what you can do, wins out.

Happiness is just different, and trickier, and far more complicated. (Of course adding the usual caveat that that happiness is so much easier to find on the days I’m out of bed, out of the house, and more physically able.)