Why do I do too much when I know it’s a bad idea? That I’ll suffer for it – sooner rather than later and for longer than expected. There are all sorts of reasons. Last week I did too much for
two three main reasons: in support of family, because the weather was pretty good, and because I was feeling better than I had for a while. Now of course, I’m feeling worse than I have for a while.
All weekend, in fact since Friday afternoon, I’ve been feeling pretty lousy. Now this could all be self inflicted, but it could also be weather related – it went very changeable, and from warm in shorts to shivering in trousers and jumper – or it could be alternate health-related in that I was fighting off a cold – I was tired, sneezy, queasy, and grumpy. Which are not Snow White’s dwarfs, but which could be hay-fever instead of illness.
Does it matter which it was? Maybe not, because I felt (and feel) awful either way. Maybe I just needed a place to ramble/rant and this is it. Then again, maybe it does matter, because maybe this is the reason I keep falling foul of my CFS/ME: if when I get to feeling better I push a bit harder, don’t keep as close a watch on how I’m feeling, make myself vulnerable. . . boom and bust. Classic CFS/ME.
You’d think I’d know better after nearly 20 years, but apparently not always. That’s going to change though. I hope? I’ll try?