Three months have passed, I see. The reason I don't post is because I'm happy... not all the time, obviously, but mostly. Happier, in fact, than I've been for years. My husband and I are getting closer and closer, my home life has settled down, and we are tackling the challenges around us reasonably well. If something blows up, it's quickly mended. Life is on the turn, a permanent turn, for the better.
I do EFT every day - it's part of my routine now. I've also taken up meditation, and find the two extremely complimentary. In fact tapping is a good way of reaching a more relaxed level very quickly. Relaxation means I get more things right - I work more efficiently, I communicate more effectively with my loved ones, and life is generally better. If something is bothering me, I tap it away with EFT and can get on with my day.
I'm going to do the EFT Level 1 training in July - not because I want to set up a commercial practice (I already have a vocation) but because I want to be more confident in using EFT with my friends and family. I realized at the weekend that I am quick to offer to help friends relieve their physical pains, such as headaches and toothaches, but shy away from applying EFT where the pain is emotional. There is still much I want to learn about, and do better, and training seems like the most time-efficient way to make a marked improvement.
I gather a handful of people are still dropping in here from time to time, which is why I thought I'd come back to let you know how we're all doing. But you can safely assume that if the blog is silent, the answer to that question is 'very well, thank you.'
I came to the blogosphere in distress, and leave in peace.
Blessings to every one of us.
Monday, 17 March 2008
Monday, 17 December 2007
Snowchild
It's funny how much things have changed in four months. My life is a lot more peaceful, and my husband isn't ill anymore. There is some closeness to be rebuilt but we are both managing to sidestep arguments. Now the season of peace and goodwill comes along to add its special magic, and despite the pressures of planning and preparing for Christmas (with four children, and in my case, two dozen relatives to buy for!) we have kept the air light and relatively tension-free.
After a spell of great excitement about this new world I've stumbled upon (energy medicine sounds kooky when you come from as straight-laced a scientific background as I do) I have adjusted to the fact that the world is still ticking on in much the same manner, and that most of the time my reality must coincide with that of the people around me.
Everyone has to find their own way to peace and happiness; this has been mine. Most people aren't even sure that peace and happiness are achievable, so I guess I was lucky that I always had a strong conviction that life could be better, and a hope that we might get there again.
So Christmas is coming, and with it, the time to properly connect. We started this afternoon at our daughter's first ever Christmas show, organised (with great courage, I thought!) by her nursery. We were - for the first time in my life, I confess - front row parents, beaming at her and whispering admiring things to each other. Look what we created! Isn't she sweet?
I've been incredibly aware, these last four years, of the power of children to drive their parents apart, no matter how strong the parents' love. It's good to become aware, also, of the power of children to bring their parents together. All this recovery, in some sense, and all of our battle (and eventual ceasefire) to stay together was underpinned by our determination not to damage our daughter. It was lovely to sit together and watch her beaming from the stage, dressed as a "snowchild", with a carrot for a nose.
Merry Christmas to each one of you, and may the mid-winter festivities warm you.
After a spell of great excitement about this new world I've stumbled upon (energy medicine sounds kooky when you come from as straight-laced a scientific background as I do) I have adjusted to the fact that the world is still ticking on in much the same manner, and that most of the time my reality must coincide with that of the people around me.
Everyone has to find their own way to peace and happiness; this has been mine. Most people aren't even sure that peace and happiness are achievable, so I guess I was lucky that I always had a strong conviction that life could be better, and a hope that we might get there again.
So Christmas is coming, and with it, the time to properly connect. We started this afternoon at our daughter's first ever Christmas show, organised (with great courage, I thought!) by her nursery. We were - for the first time in my life, I confess - front row parents, beaming at her and whispering admiring things to each other. Look what we created! Isn't she sweet?
I've been incredibly aware, these last four years, of the power of children to drive their parents apart, no matter how strong the parents' love. It's good to become aware, also, of the power of children to bring their parents together. All this recovery, in some sense, and all of our battle (and eventual ceasefire) to stay together was underpinned by our determination not to damage our daughter. It was lovely to sit together and watch her beaming from the stage, dressed as a "snowchild", with a carrot for a nose.
Merry Christmas to each one of you, and may the mid-winter festivities warm you.
Wednesday, 28 November 2007
Healing The Dog
This morning, I was coming out of the shower when my husband came down to tell me that our dog (13 years old) had just collapsed, peeing a little in the process. He said he'd heard the scrabbling of feet, exactly the same sound that had preceded our last dog (this dog's mother) dying about five years ago. When I got to the dog, he was looking very unwell, too weak to stand. He had peed, it seemed in shock, and was lamely, really sadly, trying to lap it up (something he would not normally do with his own pee - but it was like when animals eat their own sick, perhaps they are trying to clean up. He looked really embarrassed, ashamed, as well as being shaken and clearly unwell.
I started doing EFT on the dog very early on, after only about 6 weeks of using EFT on myself; first on his kennel cough, which seemed to me to be associated with his loneliness (and so keeping him on a lead, as the vet advised, was actually aggravating it). I wasn't sure if it would work, but I hugged and held him and concentrated mentally on his tapping points. The cough went away. Could be fluke, obviously.
But he was booked in for a castration at the time because of a prostrate problem; and at just this time I started reading accounts of people healing their animals with EFT and I just knew I didn't want him to go through that operation (poor old man), the pain and humiliation, if it wasn't necessary. Let alone the fact we don't have £200 to throw around in this house. So I figured it was worth a try. I read a particularly useful account about a woman working with her cat, made a mental note of the technique, and then - while I was walking the dog one night - I just focused mentally on all his points, doing as best I could to mentally "tap them" while saying affirmations for him about his frustrated desire for local bitches (he'd had a particularly teasing encounter with an alsation in heat the previous day and was due, I suspected, another flare up.) I also worked for a couple of rounds on the physical pain, his swollen prostrate gland. What harm could it do?
That's two and half months ago, and his prostrate hasn't flared up since. Previously it was happening every time the chemical castration injection wore off. He hasn't needed to go the the VET since I took up EFT. A couple of other problems have been observed, worked on and disappeared: weakness in his spine and backlegs, an infuriating itch in his back. So this morning, as soon as the dog collapses, I'm called for. It's lovely to be able to help him - gentle, and simple.
He was well enough, within fifteen minutes, to get up and go for a big drink of water. We took him out for his usual walk - I went along to check he was fully better. He's right as rain now, and curled up snoozing in his basket.
I started doing EFT on the dog very early on, after only about 6 weeks of using EFT on myself; first on his kennel cough, which seemed to me to be associated with his loneliness (and so keeping him on a lead, as the vet advised, was actually aggravating it). I wasn't sure if it would work, but I hugged and held him and concentrated mentally on his tapping points. The cough went away. Could be fluke, obviously.
But he was booked in for a castration at the time because of a prostrate problem; and at just this time I started reading accounts of people healing their animals with EFT and I just knew I didn't want him to go through that operation (poor old man), the pain and humiliation, if it wasn't necessary. Let alone the fact we don't have £200 to throw around in this house. So I figured it was worth a try. I read a particularly useful account about a woman working with her cat, made a mental note of the technique, and then - while I was walking the dog one night - I just focused mentally on all his points, doing as best I could to mentally "tap them" while saying affirmations for him about his frustrated desire for local bitches (he'd had a particularly teasing encounter with an alsation in heat the previous day and was due, I suspected, another flare up.) I also worked for a couple of rounds on the physical pain, his swollen prostrate gland. What harm could it do?
That's two and half months ago, and his prostrate hasn't flared up since. Previously it was happening every time the chemical castration injection wore off. He hasn't needed to go the the VET since I took up EFT. A couple of other problems have been observed, worked on and disappeared: weakness in his spine and backlegs, an infuriating itch in his back. So this morning, as soon as the dog collapses, I'm called for. It's lovely to be able to help him - gentle, and simple.
He was well enough, within fifteen minutes, to get up and go for a big drink of water. We took him out for his usual walk - I went along to check he was fully better. He's right as rain now, and curled up snoozing in his basket.
My Ordinary Everyday Reality
I'm not going to come on here and tell you things are all roses and will forever be, but there is a sense that the drama has died down, and we are more aware of each other. There is much mending to be done, after the ragged damage inflicted on us by the last two years.
You'll see I've changed the Profile blurb for this blog... this blog is no longer about ME, because this is no longer the largest feature of our lives. It might at times be about trying to mend a marriage that has been ravaged by the pressures of the last four years (since our daughter, youngest of my brood, was born, which included my husband's chronic illness (brought on, I've no doubt, by the stress of overwork). But more often, I suspect, it will be about the positive impact on our lives of the extraordinary healing tool that ME led us to.
It's been nearly four months since I first learnt EFT and I have to remember constantly that to other people it seems very weird. To me, now, it is becoming increasingly ordinary - although I am constantly gratified (and still, sometimes, surprised) by the positive effects it has on me and on the people around me.
Some of it sounds a little crazy, I know, but you're just going to have to take my word for it - I'm completely sane. The fact is, you can not only heal yourself with EFT, but you can heal others. If you read the science around EFT, you can understand why this might be possible - but it is still something many find hard to accept, because it is so new (and yet, which might worry them most, is as old as 2000 years ago).
I know, if you're not doing EFT, all this is bound to sound odd, and you might think I've ever so softly and harmlessly flipped. But this is a true account of every-day reality in his household. And you know, as realities go, I vastly prefer it to my previous one. And so do my husband, children, and pets.
You'll see I've changed the Profile blurb for this blog... this blog is no longer about ME, because this is no longer the largest feature of our lives. It might at times be about trying to mend a marriage that has been ravaged by the pressures of the last four years (since our daughter, youngest of my brood, was born, which included my husband's chronic illness (brought on, I've no doubt, by the stress of overwork). But more often, I suspect, it will be about the positive impact on our lives of the extraordinary healing tool that ME led us to.
It's been nearly four months since I first learnt EFT and I have to remember constantly that to other people it seems very weird. To me, now, it is becoming increasingly ordinary - although I am constantly gratified (and still, sometimes, surprised) by the positive effects it has on me and on the people around me.
Some of it sounds a little crazy, I know, but you're just going to have to take my word for it - I'm completely sane. The fact is, you can not only heal yourself with EFT, but you can heal others. If you read the science around EFT, you can understand why this might be possible - but it is still something many find hard to accept, because it is so new (and yet, which might worry them most, is as old as 2000 years ago).
I know, if you're not doing EFT, all this is bound to sound odd, and you might think I've ever so softly and harmlessly flipped. But this is a true account of every-day reality in his household. And you know, as realities go, I vastly prefer it to my previous one. And so do my husband, children, and pets.
Friday, 9 November 2007
The Dawn of Peace
To update this account of my own rather bumpy journey towards reclaiming my husband from this chronic and debilitating illness, we are being softer with each other. He watched the first EFT DVD yesterday, all the way through. As long as I give him some time to himself every day, he will spend some time doing EFT (which is what we both need him to do). This is held in balance against me needing to spend long hours sorting out my feelings at my desk before I start work (I work for myself, luckily, so I don’t get complaints from the boss). And then actually getting some work done, because I am being funded by public money and what I produce better be something good. It would be so nice to be able to get straight down to work, and then I could probably do everything I needed in half a day (as equality and fairness in this partnership requires). So that’s why EFT continues to be my daily necessity. It offers insights and new perspectives. It’s about developing the art of communication, and good communication is what we all need (both good broadcast and good reception).
I must get down to work now, but I thought I’d assuage any concerns about me. My husband has agreed this must be worked out in peace rather than aggression. The more progress I can make in reducing my own problems, the easier it is to just be there for him.
Monday, 5 November 2007
This Demon Doesn't Want to be Exorcised...
I am down here in my basement office, and Brian - yes, Brian, my darling husband's violent alter-ego - is upstairs polishing off a bottle of whiskey. He is very, very angry (at the throwing things stage) so I have left him to it. At the end of the last post I said I thought things would be alright so long as he kept tapping. He stopped tapping just after I wrote that post.
Had this been a few months ago, after all the verbal assaults that have just come my way, I would have been down here crying. As it is, I am typing very calmly. Why? Because EFT works.
Why, then, has my lovely husband disappeared and Brian returned? Because EFT works, and Brian is very, very angry about that. Angry, so he shouts at me tonight, that he has been looking for some kind of spiritual answer all his life and I have found it. He can't accept that I should be the one to find something that works. He likes to find answers for himself.
What could I do, though? He wasn't looking for a way out. He was accepting his illness and the massive impact it had on all our lives (there are six of us in this house). He wasn't trawling the internet for anything that might help (as I did almost daily for three years). Even if he had been looking, brain-fog prevented him from reading. And even if he had been able to read, he hates "other people's answers". He has always despised self-help books and those who read them. He hates "being told what to do." Hates school and anything that looks like school. He doesn't believe in learning from other people. He doesn't believe in "easy answers" so how can he accept this one, even when he has proof that it works? That it worked for him (as far as he was willing to tap, which isn't far) and is working daily (and profoundly) for me. The more he can see that it works, the more he has drawn away from it.
He stopped tapping because he said he needed to understand better how it worked, and until he understood how it worked, he didn't want to tap. He hasn't made any attempt to get any further with finding out how it works (and the understanding is out there, if you want to learn) but he now says he is "suspicious" about EFT. For a while just me tapping on myself, and surrogate tapping on him, was helping him get better. He kept saying he would start tapping again when he had finished reading the manual. He would watch the EFT DVDs when he had finished reading the manual. But he would rather watch lots and lots of Top Gear videos than read the manual. He made it an extremely low priority, and is no further on in the manual (which took me two hours to read) than he was a month ago.
Not surprisingly, therefore, and with a sense of depressing inevitability, I have watched him slowly become overwhelmed, again, by the negative emotions that have been trapped inside his body ever since he was 11 years old. I've watched his face grow slowly more fearful and less friendly, more tired and locked up, putting up his defences against me so that even warmth and friendship can't penetrate. An increasingly number of miscommunications were occurring, and I could sense he was projecting stuff on me from his past, and reading me wrongly. Seeing me as the enemy. I handled all this much better than usual (thanks to EFT) but that seems to have made him even angrier.
Again, as before, he's started telling me (both explicitly and by his behaviour) what a shit person I am. Yesterday, he thundered down the stairs in a rage, accusing me of "breaking promises" to our daughter, because I had put a few dishes into the dishwasher before coming upstairs with her warm milk (but I was making the milk even as he thundered downstairs). And this was at the end of a day spent together with our daughter in the countryside; a good day, and I spent the last hour playing piano with her on her mini-keyboard, Mary Had A Little Lamb over and over again, singing loudly. We were having fun. He pretended to be having fun right up until the last moment when it turned out he was at the end of his tether.
EFT works, but only if you do it. I've been doing it every day, and it's been extraordinary. A week ago, for example, I was out for the evening (we were supposed to be out together but he cried off at the last minute) and halfway through the night my nose started running, my eyes watering, and I had the repeated urge to sneeze, and I could feel something "coming on" - that horrible lurgi that one of my friends (who I insisted on hugging even when she was ill) kept assuring me I would get. I went to the loos to get a whole load of loo-paper for the running nose, and did two rounds of tapping while I was there. Within 15 minutes, all the symptoms disappeared. I had directed my immune system to spring into action and - bless it - I guess it did. The next afternoon, symptoms returned briefly but I tapped them away again and haven't had a problem since. Yes, that's right, ladies and gentlemen, a cure for the common cold.
No wonder my husband hates me. From his perspective, I'm starting to look like a witch.
I did realise about three weeks ago that me doing EFT (while he steadfastly avoided starting it) was putting distance between us. I am really sorting out some serious stuff, getting a real sense of control over my life and that emotional freedom the name of the technique promises. It has been so immensely helpful in getting me through the difficulties of every day that I made the decision that I could not abandon my use of EFT, even if it increases our distance. He will (until he decides to take steps to do otherwise) continue to go through these cycles of depression, rage and self-destruction whether I'm able to handle it or not. I choose to handle it, and EFT works where crying and despairing never did.
I really wanted him to come with me on this; I asked him to. I wanted us to do it together; doing EFT together brings you closer. He refused. So I was obliged to make this journey alone when I'd have much, much rather had his company. Had he come with me, we wouldn't be having these problems now.
So my husband isn't languishing with ME any more, but he's about a million miles from okay. I'm not happy about that, obviously. I would like the other husband back, please, the one who loves and appreciates me and who can see me as I really am, the one who isn't blinded by his rage and jealousy and sense of injustice. But I can't make the man tap. The solution's right there if he wants it, but he doesn't want it, because he's afraid it'll take away his anger and he feels his anger - at me - is justified. (He thinks everything in his past is "dealt with".)
He's wrong of course. This anger should have been levelled at others. At the boys who bullied him and chased him and beat him up and called him "paki", at the parents who didn't notice their son was too afraid to leave the house for five years, the mother who smothered him with her anxiety and fears for his safety (don't climb on that wall, don't go near water, don't do anything adventurous in case you get hurt) at the same time as calling him "scruffy" and "lazy", the father who he knew as "the man dozing in the chair on Sunday afternoons" and who, these days, bulldozers his son with his incessant one-sided conversation, and God knows how many other people that have pissed him off or let him down or abused his good nature in the last forty years.
Unfortunately, he is not in a position to see any of that. Unfortunately, all the anger that should be associated with the people from his past is now associated (in his mind) with me.
There's nothing I can do, then, but look after myself, keep tapping for my own emotional and physical health, and hope this crisis will bring him to some kind of awakening.
Had this been a few months ago, after all the verbal assaults that have just come my way, I would have been down here crying. As it is, I am typing very calmly. Why? Because EFT works.
Why, then, has my lovely husband disappeared and Brian returned? Because EFT works, and Brian is very, very angry about that. Angry, so he shouts at me tonight, that he has been looking for some kind of spiritual answer all his life and I have found it. He can't accept that I should be the one to find something that works. He likes to find answers for himself.
What could I do, though? He wasn't looking for a way out. He was accepting his illness and the massive impact it had on all our lives (there are six of us in this house). He wasn't trawling the internet for anything that might help (as I did almost daily for three years). Even if he had been looking, brain-fog prevented him from reading. And even if he had been able to read, he hates "other people's answers". He has always despised self-help books and those who read them. He hates "being told what to do." Hates school and anything that looks like school. He doesn't believe in learning from other people. He doesn't believe in "easy answers" so how can he accept this one, even when he has proof that it works? That it worked for him (as far as he was willing to tap, which isn't far) and is working daily (and profoundly) for me. The more he can see that it works, the more he has drawn away from it.
He stopped tapping because he said he needed to understand better how it worked, and until he understood how it worked, he didn't want to tap. He hasn't made any attempt to get any further with finding out how it works (and the understanding is out there, if you want to learn) but he now says he is "suspicious" about EFT. For a while just me tapping on myself, and surrogate tapping on him, was helping him get better. He kept saying he would start tapping again when he had finished reading the manual. He would watch the EFT DVDs when he had finished reading the manual. But he would rather watch lots and lots of Top Gear videos than read the manual. He made it an extremely low priority, and is no further on in the manual (which took me two hours to read) than he was a month ago.
Not surprisingly, therefore, and with a sense of depressing inevitability, I have watched him slowly become overwhelmed, again, by the negative emotions that have been trapped inside his body ever since he was 11 years old. I've watched his face grow slowly more fearful and less friendly, more tired and locked up, putting up his defences against me so that even warmth and friendship can't penetrate. An increasingly number of miscommunications were occurring, and I could sense he was projecting stuff on me from his past, and reading me wrongly. Seeing me as the enemy. I handled all this much better than usual (thanks to EFT) but that seems to have made him even angrier.
Again, as before, he's started telling me (both explicitly and by his behaviour) what a shit person I am. Yesterday, he thundered down the stairs in a rage, accusing me of "breaking promises" to our daughter, because I had put a few dishes into the dishwasher before coming upstairs with her warm milk (but I was making the milk even as he thundered downstairs). And this was at the end of a day spent together with our daughter in the countryside; a good day, and I spent the last hour playing piano with her on her mini-keyboard, Mary Had A Little Lamb over and over again, singing loudly. We were having fun. He pretended to be having fun right up until the last moment when it turned out he was at the end of his tether.
EFT works, but only if you do it. I've been doing it every day, and it's been extraordinary. A week ago, for example, I was out for the evening (we were supposed to be out together but he cried off at the last minute) and halfway through the night my nose started running, my eyes watering, and I had the repeated urge to sneeze, and I could feel something "coming on" - that horrible lurgi that one of my friends (who I insisted on hugging even when she was ill) kept assuring me I would get. I went to the loos to get a whole load of loo-paper for the running nose, and did two rounds of tapping while I was there. Within 15 minutes, all the symptoms disappeared. I had directed my immune system to spring into action and - bless it - I guess it did. The next afternoon, symptoms returned briefly but I tapped them away again and haven't had a problem since. Yes, that's right, ladies and gentlemen, a cure for the common cold.
No wonder my husband hates me. From his perspective, I'm starting to look like a witch.
I did realise about three weeks ago that me doing EFT (while he steadfastly avoided starting it) was putting distance between us. I am really sorting out some serious stuff, getting a real sense of control over my life and that emotional freedom the name of the technique promises. It has been so immensely helpful in getting me through the difficulties of every day that I made the decision that I could not abandon my use of EFT, even if it increases our distance. He will (until he decides to take steps to do otherwise) continue to go through these cycles of depression, rage and self-destruction whether I'm able to handle it or not. I choose to handle it, and EFT works where crying and despairing never did.
I really wanted him to come with me on this; I asked him to. I wanted us to do it together; doing EFT together brings you closer. He refused. So I was obliged to make this journey alone when I'd have much, much rather had his company. Had he come with me, we wouldn't be having these problems now.
So my husband isn't languishing with ME any more, but he's about a million miles from okay. I'm not happy about that, obviously. I would like the other husband back, please, the one who loves and appreciates me and who can see me as I really am, the one who isn't blinded by his rage and jealousy and sense of injustice. But I can't make the man tap. The solution's right there if he wants it, but he doesn't want it, because he's afraid it'll take away his anger and he feels his anger - at me - is justified. (He thinks everything in his past is "dealt with".)
He's wrong of course. This anger should have been levelled at others. At the boys who bullied him and chased him and beat him up and called him "paki", at the parents who didn't notice their son was too afraid to leave the house for five years, the mother who smothered him with her anxiety and fears for his safety (don't climb on that wall, don't go near water, don't do anything adventurous in case you get hurt) at the same time as calling him "scruffy" and "lazy", the father who he knew as "the man dozing in the chair on Sunday afternoons" and who, these days, bulldozers his son with his incessant one-sided conversation, and God knows how many other people that have pissed him off or let him down or abused his good nature in the last forty years.
Unfortunately, he is not in a position to see any of that. Unfortunately, all the anger that should be associated with the people from his past is now associated (in his mind) with me.
There's nothing I can do, then, but look after myself, keep tapping for my own emotional and physical health, and hope this crisis will bring him to some kind of awakening.
Friday, 5 October 2007
A Return to Normal Life
I have been hesitant to say this, as it is so often the case that the moment you start to relax and think things are going well that it all turns bad again. But for the first time since my husband's last major relapse in February 2006, we are living what feels like a normal life. This is something I've craved for so long it seems bizarre that we have slipped into it almost unnoticed. I have been scared to acknowledge it in case it turned out to be a mirage. But we have finally arrived at a place where I can book things into my diary without causing problems between us.
For a long time now, I have had to consider my husband's illness every time I try to schedule work; every date has had to be negotiated carefully, and gaps left for him to recover if anything I do will lead to him being overloaded with childcare. I could never, for example, do two days work (out of the house) in a row. Yet next month, I'm going away to Yorkshire for five days, with his blessing. The proof of that pudding will be in the eating, and I hope it's not a dangerous experiment, but its quite something that he feels strong enough to agree to it.
And after a year and a half of not being able to arrange an evening out because my husband is always too ill - too ill to come, and too ill to be left alone to cope with the children - I am finally getting back some kind of social life. For a long time now there has always been a price to pay for going out in the evening; my husband's illness would be worse for a few days; often, he would be angry with me about the position it put him in, the fact that he would feel worse as a result. Agreement to anything that would leave him alone to cope with putting our daughter to bed was given grudgingly; his ME always in precarious balance with my need to live "a normal life". (Something that, in my times of despair, I have mourned the loss of).
In the last couple of weeks, normal life has been there for both of us, as if it never went away. I've been out several times without it causing any kind of problem. I've been able to work full days and emerged to find my husband cheerful and in good health. Even though I've had a heavy week of work, he has managed to hold the fort, and not suffered any kind of setbacks. He 's only marginally more tired, at the end of the day, than I am; and occasionally, less. On Saturday, we going to a party together. It has been a long, long time since he has felt able (or been willing) to go to a party. I'm the gregarious type, and I've very much missed being out with him; being a couple in public.
He's picking up his life again. Friends are beginning to drop in us like they used to; he's started to develop some of his interests, now that he can do the research without getting brain-fogged. He did a full day's work yesterday - performance workshops with primary school children - the sort of thing that, not long ago, would have knocked him back for a week. Yet he was in a better state to get our daughter to nursery this morning than I was, and is currently working at a laptop on the kitchen table, with no sign of malaise or post-exertion fatigue. EFT consistently delivers things that look like miracles, so at some point I should stop being surprised.
I'm fairly confident, too, that he's not overdoing it (as has so often been his downfall in the past) - he is being careful now about what he takes on, and is still listening to his body and resting when he needs to. But his body is giving him less trouble than it has for a long time. No doubt there will be challenges, possibly even setbacks. But we are, at least for now, living what feels to me like the normal life I have been craving ever since his ME took over our lives.
He's not as involved with EFT as I am, yet, but he has turned towards it, and is learning in his own time. He appreciates what it can do for him; for us. I think it's probably harder for people with ME to do their own EFT because of the energy-depleted state of the body; he reports the effects as being much weaker when he does it on himself than when I do it for him. But as his cells slowly repair, this should change.
I can't tell you what a relief it is to live like this; health is one of those things whose value you don't appreciate until you are forced to live without it. I'm actually a little afraid to trust that my husband is going to continue to be well, and be fully restored to me - at this stage, I'm holding something of myself back in case it collapses and proves to be an illusion. Trust needs to be rebuilt on both sides, and strangely, my husband is now rebuilding his trust more quickly than I am. But good and significant things are happening, and so long as he sticks with EFT, I believe we will be alright.
For a long time now, I have had to consider my husband's illness every time I try to schedule work; every date has had to be negotiated carefully, and gaps left for him to recover if anything I do will lead to him being overloaded with childcare. I could never, for example, do two days work (out of the house) in a row. Yet next month, I'm going away to Yorkshire for five days, with his blessing. The proof of that pudding will be in the eating, and I hope it's not a dangerous experiment, but its quite something that he feels strong enough to agree to it.
And after a year and a half of not being able to arrange an evening out because my husband is always too ill - too ill to come, and too ill to be left alone to cope with the children - I am finally getting back some kind of social life. For a long time now there has always been a price to pay for going out in the evening; my husband's illness would be worse for a few days; often, he would be angry with me about the position it put him in, the fact that he would feel worse as a result. Agreement to anything that would leave him alone to cope with putting our daughter to bed was given grudgingly; his ME always in precarious balance with my need to live "a normal life". (Something that, in my times of despair, I have mourned the loss of).
In the last couple of weeks, normal life has been there for both of us, as if it never went away. I've been out several times without it causing any kind of problem. I've been able to work full days and emerged to find my husband cheerful and in good health. Even though I've had a heavy week of work, he has managed to hold the fort, and not suffered any kind of setbacks. He 's only marginally more tired, at the end of the day, than I am; and occasionally, less. On Saturday, we going to a party together. It has been a long, long time since he has felt able (or been willing) to go to a party. I'm the gregarious type, and I've very much missed being out with him; being a couple in public.
He's picking up his life again. Friends are beginning to drop in us like they used to; he's started to develop some of his interests, now that he can do the research without getting brain-fogged. He did a full day's work yesterday - performance workshops with primary school children - the sort of thing that, not long ago, would have knocked him back for a week. Yet he was in a better state to get our daughter to nursery this morning than I was, and is currently working at a laptop on the kitchen table, with no sign of malaise or post-exertion fatigue. EFT consistently delivers things that look like miracles, so at some point I should stop being surprised.
I'm fairly confident, too, that he's not overdoing it (as has so often been his downfall in the past) - he is being careful now about what he takes on, and is still listening to his body and resting when he needs to. But his body is giving him less trouble than it has for a long time. No doubt there will be challenges, possibly even setbacks. But we are, at least for now, living what feels to me like the normal life I have been craving ever since his ME took over our lives.
He's not as involved with EFT as I am, yet, but he has turned towards it, and is learning in his own time. He appreciates what it can do for him; for us. I think it's probably harder for people with ME to do their own EFT because of the energy-depleted state of the body; he reports the effects as being much weaker when he does it on himself than when I do it for him. But as his cells slowly repair, this should change.
I can't tell you what a relief it is to live like this; health is one of those things whose value you don't appreciate until you are forced to live without it. I'm actually a little afraid to trust that my husband is going to continue to be well, and be fully restored to me - at this stage, I'm holding something of myself back in case it collapses and proves to be an illusion. Trust needs to be rebuilt on both sides, and strangely, my husband is now rebuilding his trust more quickly than I am. But good and significant things are happening, and so long as he sticks with EFT, I believe we will be alright.
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