I jogged today after not having done so in six months. I’ve been in another CFS relapse (they come and go every several months) and during this one large muscle groups decided to tense and clump up, making getting up off the couch or getting out of bed difficult and painful, necessitating a cane for leverage.
I figured that since I have limited energy and am limping at times anyway, I might as well use what energy I have that day to run and use my limping to get me back home again. Because CFS causes all my body’s systems to go slower than normal, if I don’t exercise I become bloated with water and weight gain. There’s a limit I tolerate until a line has been crossed, and that line has been crossed. So today I threw on my running shoes and went back out there, regardless of the pain.
I managed a pitiful fraction of what I could do months before my relapse and, yes, I limped home, but it felt good in my soul and I’m glad I went, as I always am.
I feel like this is what has happened with my view on my family, although this line of thinking is new to me with respect to my family relationship: I have come to a point in my life where a switch has turned on and I’m no longer able to tolerate their nonsense and their dynamics anymore. It’s a process, and this blog is part of that process.
I want the determination to be free of my family to be stronger, though. I want it to be as strong as my determination was a year and a half ago when I decided I couldn’t handle being as ill with CFS as I was anymore. One day I just got up and began walking. I couldn’t get around the block without immense pain and, as I continued to push through, sometimes I felt like my heart was going to give out due to its weakness. I didn’t care. My attitude was this: either I get better or I die trying. It’s that literal do or die attitude I wish I had with trying to disentangle myself from my family.
I’ve decided to go no-contact with my siblings, and that has helped although it hasn’t really been tested yet. I’ve decided to not go no-contact with my parents, and that is due to fear.
I have lived my whole life with them hamstringing me as the scapegoat. I admit I’m more reliant on them as I care to be, not just financially where they’ve been willing, but also emotionally. One of my fears is that I can’t make it without their help with financial emergencies, etc. and that they may cut me out of their will. My first thought is that I am in such poverty now that I’m reliant on any kind of padding the inheritance may give me, especially as I become older. I don’t have children and so I could use a financial safety net for my retirement, such as a winter coat when I need it, etc. I have five brothers and sisters so I’m not talking about a large inheritance, of course, but even $10,000, say, would ease my anxiety.
I am going to have to think about my fears surrounding this. Losing out of emergency help and a small amount of money for my elderly years may be worth it for the peace of mind. I just need my mind to make the same kind of decision that helps me go out for a walk and run.