Shifts in perspective never cease to amaze me. See above the work of pavement artist, Julian Beever, viewed from two different angles. It's like that when I come to write my blog. One minute I feel I have semi interesting things to say, the next minute I feel it's all random trivia and who am I to write it? I'm sure I'm not alone in this vacillation.
Sometimes I feel an urge to explain more about the illness I've had for over 20 years. During the worst years I was so severely affected I couldn't walk, talk, watch TV, read or do anything really, other than lie in a dark room in constant pain. Today my life is much more bearable but it still carries huge paradoxes.
When I go out to meet friends they see the best of me. I get revved up on adrenalin and (for an hour or two) I can look as well as the next person. But I always have symptoms of physical pain, weakness and a kind of 'cellular gasping' feeling that is hard to describe. It's as if my cells have asthma and are begging me to lie down. There can also be a 'poisoned malaise'. Like a bad hangover from a cocktail of horse tranquilizers with a dash of arsenic. And the only way I can 'afford' to get out for a few hours is to spend the other 70 or 80% of my day horizontal: ie bed or sofa.
No wonder Joe Public can be skeptical about ME/CFS. (God awful shambles of a name for an illness but I won't get started on that). If I saw myself out and about, *I, myself* would think I looked well and I must be exaggerating about my health problems. I really would.
I've reached a point where I'm trying to stop caring what other people's theories/judgments are. I remember someone once told me that their boyfriend thought I had anorexia. I don't. But that's a terrible illness too. He just mistaken, not malicious. In fact, I hope to live my whole life believing that no one is ever deliberately malicious, just misinformed. If they knew better, they wouldn't judge or speculate erroneously. Myself included. Further reading-
-C
From this weekend the Scottish parliament is banning smoking in enclosed public spaces in Scotland. Never before have I been so pleased about a law. No more putting on clean clothes just to wash them all two hours later. No more ash tray scented hair on the pillow at the end of a night out. Passive carcinogens farewell. As laws go, it feels so useful, so right. 
