After leaving yet another doctors office yesterday, armed with blood request slips and diagrams of Krebbs cycles, lists of symptoms, allergy testing and my heart on my sleeve, I break down on my partners shoulder and sob. I want to run as far away from myself as possible and I briefly, but intensely, think of a quote "It is fear of fear itself". I have just been dx with fibromyalgia/CFS, we just need the blood to prove it. I know the blood will come back negative, as it always has in the past, and my legs will react with fire and pain, rendering me immobile for the next couple of days and the brain fog will make me feel like the planet has plastic over it, but the symptoms are enough, this doctor says. He just wants a clearer picture of what is happening inside. I am not surprised. I have done a partial science degree and know the symptoms of this disease.....but my mind still revolts and I react with a feeling closely relating to complete disgust.....and terrible fear. So, why can't the logic marry the reality? Why can't I just accept that this is happening? Surely I have fought such big battles in the past, even if they are of the mental health kind.

Meanwhile, my Aspergers brain works frantically to process the data, while it prepares for an appointment with an AS specialist psychologist next week. I haven't even gotten used to that yet. It has only been 4 months since official dx with my primary T. I still find myself scoffing at the idea of having AS, while my partner kindly points out that my hand flapping, foot shaking, atom loving eccentricities have gone up tenfold with all the stress of feeling so ill. That my repetitive use of my "word of the week" even when the word is not applicable, goes into every sentence and I am caught often, saying the word over and over like tasting a new delicacy. That I am found rocking absently in front of the fridge staring blankly at the fridge door. Gosh, talk about going downhill. So, yeah. Acceptance comes very difficultly to me.

I am also preparing myself for psychometric testing for ADHD(inattentive type). Just what I need at the moment. This hyper brain, no focus, plus the brain fog of CFS/Fibro, and the battle of hyper focus with the AS has got me running around like something out of the primordial ooze, foaming at the mouth and trying to bite the legs off chairs. Everyday I get up and I tell myself "Today will be different. Today you will focus on tasks and you will feel better about the chaos in your environment. C'mon Michah, Think, girl, THINK!!". But it never happens. Good intentions without the operating system to perform the stupid functions and I am left with hours of staring mutely into space, or trying to play solitaire or learn software programming as a hobby, and wondering with despairing breath "Where on earth did I go?". Enter, sobbing uncontrollably, which distresses me as well. I am not a cryer.

Yesterday, I thought to myself "Do you WANT to get better, woman? Do you WANT to stay this way FOREVER? Have you become so cynical that you have no HOPE?". And my answer is no, I want to get better with every fibre of my being. I want to run and climb again. I want to feel vital. I want to embrace my authentic self and live with moments of amazing joy, but I am completely overwhelmed. I have been feeling unwell for so long that I simply cannot perform more than one task at one time. That I have barely processed what was discussed in therapy 2 months ago, to be taking on doctor fatigue and people touching me and sticking more needles in me, more tests to have done after the last 6 years of them. I am so incredibly tired that I don't even really know what I look like anymore.

So as I wrap this little story up, I look inside and see deep fear and objective loathing at this insidious foe, and I seek forgiveness from my brain for just not being able to provide a platform for it to function properly, and forgive my primordial ooze alter ego, for destroying my furniture with its tiny bite marks and raging fury at the treachery of its own body. It is amazing just how powerful our primal selves can be when feeling vulnerable or threatened. At the end of the day, it is not hope or optimism that will pull me through this, it will be my primal self, my will, my "You couldn't beat me in the past and you can't beat me now" mantra of primal existence. Just got to get it directed properly. In the meantime, I will rage around my house, and cry at silly songs and flap my hands as much as I want. I will tell people to stick their plans for me where the sun don't shine, and do what is good for ME. I will follow what is the path of least resistance and love anyway, and doubt myself the whole way. At least I will be true.......to me.

In stillness,

Michah