Posted in Accepting ME

Being an Introverted Socialite

This weekend was a busy one. My husband was in need of an updated wardrobe, our car was in need of new tyres, our cupboards in need of filling and then there was a wedding. For any healthy individual, all of the above is a mundane list of to dos with the addition of a fun social outing capping off a well deserved active, weekend.

For me, it required careful planning and acknowledging my limitations.

Waking on Friday morning shortly after 10am, having slept for over twelve hours, I dressed the top half of my body and ate breakfast. Climbing back under the covers I meditated before getting up for a second time, half an hour later, finishing dressing myself and washing my teeth.

My husband then bounced from bed and ran about our home readying himself while I sat at our kitchen table. Climbing into the car, the radio was turned off, as is always done when I’m present and my husband was instructed to travel the 40 minute drive in silence. Sitting, meditating, deep breathing, I was adamant to save every ounce of energy in order to return home somewhat unscathed.

Reaching the car garage I sat while we waited on our driver to drop us into the city centre. There, we went to the nearest restaurant where I fed my body a salad and hydrated it. Hoping if I played nice it too would play nice. Afterward, I climbed a hill, my husband called it a slight incline, to me it was a hill. At the top we crossed a street into a clothes shop, where I sought out the bathrooms and sat on a toilet seat for some minutes knowing my husband would take time choosing his outfits. Returning to the shop floor, I encouraged my husband to choose his selection quickly so we could take the escalator downstairs to the fitting rooms, where I knew there was a red poof with my name on it.

While he changed outfits I sat and people watched. Two bags full of clothes later, we left the shop and I sat on some public seating sipping on a juice while my husband ran another errand. Returning he asked if I’d be okay to make it to the nearby bus stop, which I was and to better my effort our bus was waiting. Handing over my free bus pass courtesy of my disability allowance, we took our seats and let the wheels move us toward the car garage and our own car.

During the journey we passed joggers, walkers, other car users, all of whom were in a rush somewhere, most taking their daily chores for granted.

Back in our car my husband completed our food shopping and we soon returned home to the comfort of my couch. A place my body could lie down and rest, recharging after its taxing day.

While I rested and minded my grumpy body, begging myalgic encephalomyelitis to refrain from her antics, my husband focused on the following day and his cousins wedding. A wedding he attended alone (Attending part of the wedding, talking, siting, listening, would have been too draining for me and resulted in a full blown crash).

Instead, I dealt with nausea, pain and increased fatigue throughout Saturday and Sunday, all because I carried out simple chores, tasks I once did without thinking.