Academic Absence Part II – Reinventing Myself

After getting pretty emotional whilst writing my previous post, I thought it was best to have a little break. But now I’m back, feeling reasonably good and ready to write the more positive side of this story.

Without the academic part of my life, I had to find something to replace it. I was daunted at the prospect but I knew there had to be something out there for me. I knew there had to be more to me than studying and grades. I knew I’d get there and feel complete again. With my concentration and memory almost totally shot, I needed easy-going, relaxed hobbies; maybe something to tap into my more creative side. And with that, here’s a list that will hopefully shed some more light on this ‘new me’ and possibly give you some inspiration and ideas to help you on your journey ūüôā


Okay, so not everyone can get out into the big, wide world¬†and capture¬†things on camera. But for me, it’s been a huge part of my life since being ill. I got into it beforehand, but I didn’t really hone my skills until after my M.E diagnosis. Even with just leaving the house for half an hour once a week, I might have been able to go into our communal garden and photograph some plants. Or some wildlife if I was lucky. Since moving to a house, I can easily watch the birds through our patio doors; catching photos of them in flight or feeding from the bird table. Photography essentially allows me complete creative freedom. I can choose whatever subject I like, whether that’s landscapes, flowers, insects or wildlife. I have control over what path I take with it and I love that. To feel in control of something again was wonderful. It really did, and still does, make a huge difference. I’ve even had online friends tell me in the past that they live vicariously through all my photos; they feel like they were there with me, enjoying the moment in real life. And that was something that encouraged me even more. I’ve known so many chronically ill individuals who are bedbound, housebound, wheelchair bound etc, and to know that my newfound hobby was helping them with their struggles? That spurred me on. So not only was I doing it for myself, I was doing it for others. Talk about silver linings, eh?

Pen Pals

Right at the start of my illness, I struggled immensely with the isolation and lack of contact with my peers. After seeking out some online forums, I made some incredible new friends; all of whom were in the same or a very similar situation to myself. Those I got closest to were then more than online friends. We became pen pals. I purchased a ton of cute stationery (Paperchase being a classic favourite) and got cracking. My hand would hurt. I’d have to take breaks. Sometimes I couldn’t reply to letters for days, even weeks. But I knew that the person on the other end would understand and patiently await my reply. There was no pressure at all. I was writing these letters and cards because I wanted to. I wanted to know how my friends were doing. I wanted to be able to cheer them up on a particularly rough day. And admittedly I did want to show off my new stickers, cards and funky letter sets. It gave me something to look forward to. At one point, I would receive a letter or more every single day. With hindsight, I can say that my pen pals helped me a hell of a lot more than I realised at the time. I began to feel less lonely and out of touch with people my own age. I’d found others in the same shitty place as me and we knew we could rely on each other. We had an instant common ground and connection. It was wonderful.

A New Focus

So this is probably the biggest and most important change for me. From a young age, I’d always been career focused. And even though the¬†job itself would change (vet, doctor, fashion designer, forensic scientist, midwife),¬†the same determination and goal was still there.¬†When the possibility of this was thrown into question, I didn’t know how to react at first. As I said before, I was lost and didn’t know who I was or would be in the future. I had to find something else for my busy mind to concentrate on and work towards. And one day, it just sort of clicked. I realised that having a career wasn’t everything. I also realised that there was so much more to life than¬†qualifications and grades. A lot of you will have always known this, but I hadn’t. It was all I’d ever wanted and been good at my whole life; learning, getting top grades and succeeding with it. But now I saw the light. I saw all the new opportunities out there for me. I had fresh¬†goals and dreams to put into place for my future. I could do something with my creative writing and/or photography. I could work with animals. I could start a family. All these life events and routes that I’d never thought about before suddenly became very real and exciting prospects. I wasn’t all about a high-flying, high intensity¬†job anymore. I knew I could be happy another way


Plenty of you out there are likely to be avid readers or gamers; or both if you’re anything like me. I’d been a bookworm as a child but slacked, quite predictably, in my teenage years. I still had a few books in my bedroom, but they would often go untouched for months. But once my sleep problems appeared, I found my old friends again. Back then, it was taking me 2-3 hours to get to sleep at night, regardless of when I went to bed. I didn’t always want to watch TV, so I remember picking up my¬†copy of The Order of The Phoenix. Despite being daunted by the sheer size of it, I hunkered down for a nice reading session. And that was the moment the obsession began anew. I’d fill those couple of hours prior to slumber with make-believe worlds and fictional adventures. I was escaping from reality without leaving the comfort of my bed. When I was eventually put on melatonin to aid my sleep, I was getting to sleep within half an hour of my head hitting the pillow. So instead of my escapism happening at night, I had to move it to the day. Whilst my concentration was dire when it came to learning and retaining facts, I found fiction to be much easier to grasp. Maybe it was simply because I was doing it for pleasure as opposed to a grade or important test. Frankly I didn’t really care. I just loved my books and that was that. The same thing applies to gaming. I’ve played god knows how many different titles in my 25 years but they just keep getting better. Fallout 4, Skyrim, GTA V, Dragon Age Inquisition; these are my recent favourites. I found them all to be incredibly immersive. I’d simply¬†load them up and get lost in the stories. Plus the violent side of¬†some games were extremely good¬†stress relief :’)¬†It probably sounds quite lame to some of you, but when I was able to do a lot less than now, video games were a brilliant escape. It was another case of me being in control. I still had power over something, even when I didn’t have it over my own health. And yes there’s been countless occasions when I’ve been addicted and lost track of time. I admit that it’s a double-edged sword for me. On the one hand, I’m filling my days with something I love and can escape into. But on the other hand, you can easily forget about other things and the people around you. Moderation, moderation, moderation is my answer to that.

I think that might be it for me today. I can sense a headache looming under the surface and I don’t want to make it too angry. I’m not sure how insightful this post actually was to be honest. Be sure to inform me if you felt it was though! It would be great to see that my effort wasn’t in vain. And of course, I totally understand that hobbies such as these aren’t feasible for everyone, which upsets me a lot. And this wasn’t intended to make anyone feel disappointed or angry at their limitations. It was merely my way of saying how I personally coped, grew and made the most of my own personal abilities. And maybe it will give some of my readers a sense of hope for their future. I’m writing this blog post 7+ years after initially getting ill and I wasn’t¬†totally sure I’d ever get here. My newly discovered hobbies are one of many factors that have kept me sane over the past few years. And most importantly, I’ve gained the knowledge that, wherever you are in life and whatever your strengths, there’s something out there for you to embrace, pursue and excel at; it might just¬†take you a little while to find it.

Peace and love to all. Kelsey over and out x

Academic Absence

Hello once again!

I apologise that I’ve been really quiet (again) recently. I’ve had a very busy few days and am struggling A LOT in this heat. So I’m hoping to take my mind off the oppressive humidity by writing another post. However, the focus of this post is something I genuinely still struggle to look back on. I made peace with so many things years ago and I’m generally okay with this too. But to recall those days and how I used to be, it’s pretty damn challenging.

As I said in a previous post, I had always been the academic type, ever since I was small. Learning and taking in new information was a breeze for me; I could just remember and absorb stuff so easily. It was so natural. Then came the utter shock I felt when my depression kicked in.¬†I’d just started my second¬†and last year at sixth form (September 2010).¬†I’d prepared for the year ahead and was looking forward to *hopefully* getting my A levels in Psychology, Law, Religious Studies & General Studies. At the time, I thought it was solely down to my mental health issues, but with hindsight, it was the start of my chronic illness. *I’m going to be focusing on the memory and concentration symptoms of depression, not the low moods* My grades went down from A’s to D’s and E’s. My mind wasn’t working properly. I couldn’t focus on what my teachers were saying. I’d try and try but I was repeatedly zoning out. They’d ask me the answers; I wouldn’t have a clue. I’d go to do my homework and genuinely feel like I was reading a foreign language. It really hit me hard. One moment I remember vividly was at a¬†parents evening around this time. Each of my teachers asked if there was something going on at home as they’d¬†seen my grades slipping. They’d also all noticed my behaviour in lessons had changed and I wasn’t as focused as usual. I then had to explain to each of them, individually, what the problem was. I wasn’t ashamed of it but it felt so strange.

After seeing my GP and trying non-pharmaceutical pathways, I was put on Fluoxetine. As my mood began to pick up, I was praying that my cognitive symptoms would improve as well. I waited and waited but they didn’t budge. Venturing into sixth form was like torture. I almost felt embarrassed. I knew my teachers had twigged, so all my classmates must have too. I was so used to being top of the class and enjoying my lessons. Now I was pretty much right at the bottom and dreading each day. I thought to myself:

I don’t know who I am anymore

I’d always been about grades and qualifications. It was a huge part of who I was and who I wanted to be in the future. I knew I could go far in my chosen career; I knew I had it in me. And was gone, almost overnight. Just like that, almost everything I thought I was as a person was taken away. I couldn’t reverse it. I couldn’t change it. I couldn’t work through it. I just wasn’t that person anymore. So who was I now? I wasn’t good at sports or painting. I didn’t play an instrument or enjoy acting. I didn’t have a fantastic social life or an outgoing personality. All I ever was no longer existed.

And that was one of the hardest parts for me; having to come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t who I’d always been anymore. I didn’t know if I could ever go back there, to learn and fill my mind with facts again. No one could tell me that. And to add insult to injury, I then became ill that Christmas. I don’t remember exact timings, but I’m sure I went back to college for a bit in January. All the previous symptoms were there and now I had all my new ones to contend with. My focus was reduced even more. My memory was diabolical. I’d leave an hour lesson, walk the 2 minutes home and not be able to tell my mum a single thing¬†I’d learned¬†in¬†the last 60 minutes. My mind was totally blank. I was exactly the same at home too. I’d ask my mum what was for dinner and she’d reply. I’d then ask a few minutes later, not remotely remembering that I’d asked already. And sometimes I’d even ask a third time.

When the time came that I could no longer attend sixth form, it was almost bittersweet. I was so ill that I knew I couldn’t go anymore. I made the choice myself, so I was in control of that aspect. I also felt relieved that I wouldn’t have to go to lessons. I’d still have to battle my brainfog etc at home, but the pressure from college¬†was no longer there. I didn’t have to get good grades. I didn’t have to retain all the facts and figures. I didn’t have to put a brave face on and pretend nothing had changed. And most importantly, I¬†didn’t have to deal with the daily disappointment of feeling inadequate; feeling like I wasn’t living up to my potential and the standards I’d always kept.¬†But at the same time, education was all I’d ever known. It was all I could remember doing. I had that weekday routine, knowing where I was going and what I was doing. Now I had no idea. My entire life had been centred around my own education and academic progress.

So I had to recreate myself.

(To be continued)…

Cotswolds Trip Day 2

Might as well jump straight back in!

Snowshill Manor

Now, this is a strange one. From the outside, Snowshill looks like a regular, unassuming National Trust property. Lovely gardens, buildings, surroundings etc. But ohhhh no. Don’t fall into that misguided trap. I’m now going to quote Wikipedia because they’ve summed it up nicely.

It is a sixteenth century country house, best known for its twentieth century owner, Charles Paget Wade, an eccentric man who amassed an enormous collection of objects that interested him.

See what I mean? It’s not¬†a museum either. It is genuinely just one mans collection of things he liked: weapons, toys, bicycles, furniture, armour, masks, plus a ton of other stuff. It was so overwhelming to go into each room. They were utterly PACKED with allsorts of bits and bobs; you just didn’t know where to look. I’m trying to think of a way to actually structure this post as it’s a place you have to see for yourself to really appreciate. I think I’ll just post some photos of my favourite bits, add (not very helpful and inane) captions and let the photos do the talking.

The exterior
The exterior, different angle
Part of the beautiful gardens
His bedroom
Here we go…
Where do you look?!
Creepy masks
Even creepier armour
And again…
Practical stuff
Just a giant ship & many bikes
Look at that gorgeous piano!
I’m in love with all of these
One section of the music room
That’s one old, heavy book

Cotswolds Trip Day 1

I’m back at last! Well I actually got back from the Cotswolds on Tuesday but lets not split hairs here. I’m going to be taking a detour from my health story this time to tell you all about my mini holiday; something far more light-hearted than doctors and exhaustion.¬†I’ll be sure to try and include some photos in this post as well. Sadly the quality of the photos may be reduced as I’m having to get them from my Facebook account. But you’ll still be able to get the general idea of what a GORGEOUS place the Cotswolds is ūüôā


First stop on our Cotswolds visit was the lovely town of Burford in Oxfordshire. Having been a couple of times before, my mum and I both knew it had to be on our list. There’s so many lovely, independent shops to peruse and mooch around in, including¬†the extremely unique and utterly charming Oxford Brush Company. And yes it is exactly that; a quirky shop full of almost every brush you can imagine. I was particularly intrigued by the hedgehog boot brush. Then there’s The Cotswolds Cheese Company. At this point it’s probably worth telling you all that I pretty much LIVE for food. My diet is gluten free because of Coeliac disease and I choose not to eat meat (I still eat fish, so I’m a Pescetarian) but I basically eat everything apart from that. No shame foodie over here! Oh right, the cheese shop. I don’t know about you lot, but when I’m faced with a full cheese cabinet, my heart starts racing. I want to try them all; apart from blue cheese because cheese should not have veins. So then you take the only sensible route and try all the ones you can before buying. Cue some interesting faces made by me and my mum and a number of minor disagreements. We eventually decided on a ewes milk cheese called Wigmore; a beautifully creamy, semi-soft cheese made in Berkshire. I’m no expert but I’d compare it to a brie which I just adore. We bought a second cheese but for the life of me I can’t remember what it was called. Disappointing.

Next up on the agenda was finding somewhere gluten free friendly for us to eat. As I mentioned, I’ve got coeliac disease so have to have a totally gluten free diet. My mum has a gluten intolerance and my nan¬†is a coeliac,¬†so it seems to be a genetic kind of thing. I’m so used to researching places online that it’s just second nature now. After quickly browsing some review sites and various menus, I suggested The Cotswold Arms. I opted for the gluten free haddock and mozzarella fishcakes, whilst my mum chose the gluten free Portobello mushroom burger.¬† Food glorious food is what I shall say about that. Brilliant, friendly service too and a relaxed pub atmosphere.

Once we were suitably filled up, off we went to visit a lovely friend of ours. I know she reads my blogs¬†so I’m waving to you! You know who you are ūüôā Many laughs were had by us all. A really nice couple of hours. After that, it was onto our accommodation to relax, eat and just enjoy some mother daughter time.¬†Our day was rounded off nicely with some cheese, nibbles and a glass of wine for me.

I hope you found this as interesting to read as my previous posts. I thought I’d mix things up a bit¬†and see how it went down with my audience.¬†Oh and I best post some of the photos I mentioned before I go.

Goodbye for now. Kelsey x

St. John the Baptist Church, Burford
My fantastic lunch!




Service will resume soon

Hello all! Just a heads up that I will be posting properly again very very soon. I only got back from a mini-break on Tuesday so it’s been mostly rest rest rest for me. But stayed tuned; holiday posts and photos shall follow when I’m up to it ūüėĀ

Take care and be kind to yourselves. Kelsey x

What No One Told Me

I’m currently hiding indoors from this never-ending heatwave and thought writing another post would be the perfect distraction. So, with an icy bottle of blackcurrant squash by my side, I’m ready to rumble.

January 2009

Going even further back in my life, we hit my final year of school. I’d always been an incredibly academic type. I never found exams scary or daunting and loved to learn. Because of this, my GCSEs were so important to me. The school year had been going well so far; nothing unusual had occurred and my studies were progressing nicely. Until one morning, I woke up with a horrible sore throat and headache. Oh what joyous news this was! I’d had tonsillitis before and this felt uncannily like that. So I had to take the day off and get my mum to take me to the doctors for an urgent appointment. I bundled myself into the car, knowing that the doctor would very likely say it was in fact tonsillitis as I suspected. Lo and behold, the doctor diagnosed exactly that and gave me a prescription for antibiotics. Fast forward to a couple of days later and things seemed to be getting worse rather than better. My glands were huge and tender. My throat was hurting even more. This is definitely not good I thought. So we trotted off to the doctors again who this time said it could be glandular fever. And guess what? Antibiotics often make glandular fever worse. Brilliant! A blood test was scheduled and yes, the results showed up glandular fever.

I was off school solidly for 4 weeks; spending the majority of the time either sleeping or resting on the sofa. It was a pretty rough time to be totally honest, but admittedly I don’t remember that much about it; it’s all just one big blur. As I was starting to think about returning to school, there was something not right with my body. I was constantly knackered and lethargic. Yet another trip to the doctors later and I was told I had post-viral fatigue. They said it would likely last for another month or two. And here’s the part no one told me: no one said I could get ill again. The doctor didn’t once mention that I could relapse or even get a full-blown chronic illness. It was simply said to be PVF and that I would be fine within a couple of months, as long as I got plenty of rest etc. Obviously at the time, we just went with what the doctor said. Heck, I didn’t even know what M.E was so it never even crossed my mind.

I never went back to school full-time. I would judge each day by how I felt in the morning and would prioritise the lessons I needed to attend most. All the teachers were super understanding and I could go home at any time. I had work that I missed delivered to my home or given to me at school so I didn’t fall behind. With my resting and taking it easy, I managed to keep on top of everything. I was slowly beginning to feel better towards the summer and felt positive about my exams. Skipping ahead to results day, I was ecstatic to find out that I’d achieved my predicted grades in every subject (4 A’s, 5 B’s and a C). Happy days all round as my health was finally back on track.

My mum was working in a nursery at the time, and I decided to go in and help for a day, seeing as I’d finished school way before the summer holidays started for everyone else. I was able to keep up, help out and crack on for the whole time I was there. Soon, my ‘one off’ day of volunteering turned into a week…then another…then two more on top of that. My illness at the beginning of the year wasn’t even in my head anymore. I’d gotten better over time, just as the doctor had said. I’d gotten the grades I needed to attend sixth form and had the whole summer holiday to relax and have some ‘me time’. So yeah; you could say I was doing pretty well.

December 2010

If you read my first post, you’ll know that this is when I really noticed my symptoms of M.E; and how everything went downhill from there. After the diagnosis, one of my first questions was: Why did nobody tell me I could get ill again?! I don’t recall it ever being spoken about or even brought up as a possibility. I didn’t know it could come back, so I never asked. I thought a medical professional would know and would undoubtedly inform me if it was likely to hit me again. But there was nothing. I had recovered, or so I thought, had been symptom-free for about a year and was getting on with a normal life. I wasn’t taking any precautions or avoiding pushing myself because I didn’t know. I thought it was all behind me. I thought I’d gotten over it. I thought I was out of the woods. Should I have done some research and reading myself? Should I have gotten a second opinion? Should I have pressed my doctor for more information? I didn’t do any of these things because I trusted a doctor to know what they were talking about. I trusted them to tell me everything about the condition I had. Now I’m looking back, there’s only two possible scenarios:

  1. They didn’t tell me because they simply didn’t know
  2. They didn’t tell me because they didn’t want to worry me

Now I honestly have no idea which of these is true and I never will. With hindsight, you can look back and think that you should have seen it coming or been more prepared. Maybe I could have done some searches online to find out more about PVF. But when you’re going entirely on what a health professional says, you don’t for a second think they’re omitting something or are clueless. You are putting your faith in them to know what they are talking about and to be upfront with any outcomes, complications etc. It’s not something I try and dwell on too much now. I can’t change it. It is what it is.

I just don’t know why no one told me.

Kelsey x

Where it all began

I thought the best place to start was right at the beginning. Well not right from the moment I was born; that might be slightly too much. I think this is actually the first time I’ve properly sat down and written about this whole shebang. Let’s crack on!

Christmas 2010

As I’ve always been a lover of the festive period, I had had a wonderful Christmas day. With just me and my mum at home, we often opted for a far more sedate and relaxed celebration, filled with presents, food and generally making the day our own. The evening drew in and I remember wanting to watch a film that was on TV. I want to say it was Ratatouille but don’t quote me on that! As I settled down to get lost in the animated frivolity, a wave of utter fatigue and exhaustion came over me. I immediately had to hunker down on the sofa and hoped it would pass. I’d been on a Christmas high, so naturally a bit of a come down was expected when the adrenaline wore off, right? Sadly I can’t seem to remember anything else about that night, most likely because it was uneventful.

Not that long after, we decided to have a wander around our local M&S, hoping for some post-Christmas bargains. After only walking for maybe 15, 20 minutes tops, I could feel the same wave coming over me once more. Now I felt like something really was amiss. My mum could see it just by looking at me; the colour and energy had just been totally zapped from my face. We headed back to the car, disappointed and concerned. Petrol was needed, so a brief detour was made. I distinctly recall sitting in the passenger seat, waiting for my mum, and feeling so detached from what was going on around me. It was like I wasn’t there. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t comprehend. I was just so exhausted.

January 2011

Fast forward to the New Year and I’m sat in the doctors waiting room. I’d had blood tests, which found nothing abnormal. But I knew something was going on and I wanted to know what. Doctor called me in. Me and my mum followed. A lot of stuff from this time is a total blur, so I’ll just have to summarise. After a lot of back and forth regarding my symptoms, my GP was finally ready to make a diagnosis. She told me I had something called M.E (Myalgic Encephalomyelitis), although she used the frowned upon Chronic Fatigue label. Get ready for some scientific stuff. It’s also very informative so don’t be put off.

M.E is a chronic (in other words, long-term) neurological condition affecting an estimated 250,000 in the UK alone and around 17 million across the world. Whilst people with M.E may experience different symptoms to other sufferers, the most common and linking factor is the debilitating fatigue; the total and complete exhaustion, even though you’ve not been remotely active. There is also the post-exertional malaise. This is the body’s inability to recover after using even tiny amounts of energy. Take having a shower for example. For anyone without health problems, this is just something you do. It’s a staple part of the day that you don’t even think about doing. You’re just able to do it. But for those with M.E, a shower can seem like hiking up Everest or flying to the moon. Initially you would need the energy to actually get out of bed or off the sofa to then travel to the bathroom. For some, even this is impossible. For those who can just about manage it, they then have to compete with getting in the shower, washing etc. Many need help from another person. Many also need aids such as shower stools or handrails. Afterwards, the fatigue, and pain for a lot of people, will kick in tenfold. They will feel like they have just climbed that mountain, ran a marathon and got the flu all at once. And that is precisely what post-extertional malaise is. The reaction of the body does not match the amount of energy expended. You can get up, brush your teeth and feel as if you’ve been doing a strenuous workout. You can make yourself a drink and feel as if you’ve been lifting a lorry. And for some, you can even just talk to someone for a few minutes and feel as if you’ve done the workout, lifted that lorry, climbed that mountain and flown to the moon. As someone who was never this severe but has had numerous friends who are, I really hope my description has done you all justice. I’ve tried to imagine my worst of the worst days and increase that a million times; then I’d be some of the way to understanding how some of you out there feel.

In essence, M.E is basically shit. It takes lives away from people, young and old. It can leave you housebound, wheelchair bound, bedbound, tube-fed, paralysed. And yes; M.E can cause complications which can be fatal. It’s tough to hear but it’s the truth. Some of you may have seen the recent articles about an incredible young woman called Merryn Crofts. We were online friends and penpals for about 4 years before M.E took her life. It’s still quite raw for many of us, so I shan’t go into anymore detail here. For anyone who wishes to read more, a number of articles are available online. I urge you to try and read at least one of them. Merryn wanted to raise awareness, even when she knew her condition was terminal, her tenacious and avid desire to help others and aid research was always present.

As for me personally, I have experienced a vast array of symptoms over the years. Luckily I have not struggled with the pain aspect, which whilst I am incredibly grateful for, I know wholeheartedly how utterly dreadful it is for some of my friends. Okay so I’ve struggled with terrible migraines and headaches, if that comes under the pain symptom category. They are bloody horrendous, I’ll tell you that now. They’ve probably been one of the most debilitating symptoms for me. You just cannot move. The nausea, the dizziness, the room spin, the light sensitivity; you’re stricken. Anyway. I think I’ve got my point across. Along with the awful, constant fatigue and post-exertional malaise I spoke about above, I’ve had so many different symptoms since my diagnosis. Be prepared for a list of every symptom I can remember having or that I still have now. Deep breaths, people.

  • Severe fatigue
  • Post-exertional malaise
  • Muscle weakness and aches
  • Headaches
  • Migraines
  • Sore throat
  • Decreased mobility
  • Difficulty sleeping
  • Unrefreshing sleep
  • Decreased appetite
  • Brainfog
  • Concentration issues
  • Memory problems
  • Swollen glands
  • Difficulty regulating body temperature
  • Heart palpitations
  • Light and noise sensitivity
  • Restless limbs
  • Bloating/gastric problems
  • Nausea
  • Light-headedness
  • Dizziness
  • Shortness of breath
  • Low moods
  • Anxiety
  • Burping a lot (yes, apparently its a thing! My M.E nurse said so)

There we have it. All of the symptoms I can ever remember having or still struggle with to this day. We’ll call this the end of my first proper post I think. I don’t reckon my poor, annoyingly weak arms can take much more of this manual labour I’m forcing upon them. So, in true chronic health fashion, I bid you goodnight. Until next time, you beautiful humans.

Love, Kelsey x

Taking the plunge

Well isn’t this an interesting development?! My first foray into the world of blogging has begun. I haven’t quite decided on a specific focus for my posts yet. I’m simply thinking of incorporating all sorts of daily life stuff and my health journey with my various hobbies. This could turn out to be a complete disaster and I’m prepared for that outcome. I do have a strong creative writing background though so at least I’ve got that on my side *cheers*

Anyway! If you’re reading this, I hope you enjoy reading future posts and maybe learn something new ūüôā

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. ‚ÄĒ Izaak Walton