The poorlyness continues, and this weekend I cracked – determined to get rid of every germ in the house, cleaning and disinfecting.
It’s been a while since my obsessive need to clean has raised it’s head and frankly it’s not fun.
Times like this I feel like a crazy person, not completely in control of my actions, and yet when I’m in the middle of it, in some ways I feel more in control – like I’m doing something to help myself feel better.
Trouble is, I don’t feel better now it’s done, I should have been resting, giving my body a chance to recover, instead I clean because I’m angry that my body has let me down, that I have somehow once again failed, at what, I’m not really sure.
Being ill is so bound up with my history, that I just don’t think I know how to deal with it. I guess that’s not my fault, but that doesn’t make it easier to deal with.
I know I’m not mad, but at times like this it’s hard to be sure of that.
Crazy, crazy me………