Thursday, 15 January 2015

A Different Kind of Tired

I wrote this fairly recently and given yesterday's nonsense in the papers about M.E, it seems a fitting time to post it here. I'm extremely lucky that I haven't had to deal with comments like this from my loved ones. Many of the friends I have made through having M.E unfortunately have. Some have had a lot worse from those who supposedly know them best. Here's to a future where all sufferers are given the understanding and support they desperately need to improve.


A Different Kind of Tired

Whatever you think or believe about M.E,
Take a moment to consider what it's like to be me.
This isn't just tiredness - sleep won't make it go away,
So when you say I'm tired, I am but not in that way.
I'm tired of being laughed at and I'm tired of being ignored,
Tired of spending life alone too ill to go outdoors.
I'm tired of resting all the time, I'm tired of being bored.
So tired of wondering how I'll pay the bills I can't afford.
I'm tired of having to prove I'm ill and that I am not insane,
Nor am I lazy or depressed, I hear myself explain.
I'm tired of saying the same things over and over again.
I may look okay to you but I spend each day in pain.

A walk will not help me as my legs don't work so well.
It's not fresh air that I require to deliver me from hell.
I don't just need to 'get a grip', 'buck up' or 'a good shake'
I don't enjoy being shut away - I'm ill for goodness sake!
I'd hope you know me well enough to trust me when I say 
I am doing the very best I can each moment of every day.
So yes, I'm tired. I'm weary because you still don't understand.
You think it's all my fault and that I just don't give a damn.
But it's the doctors who are wrong - they've not been trained to care.
As far as they're concerned, they think there is no real illness there
And this is why I need research for treatment and a cure. 
I'm so very tired of waiting, I shouldn't have to fight any more.

I need my strength for getting well. I need you at my side.
I need you to believe in me, I have nothing left to hide.
This is me, this is my life - I look from rainbows when it's raining. 
I'll make the best of what I've got but I'm too tired to keep explaining.
You're either with me or against, I've not the energy to waste.
If you can't except I'm ill then consider yourself replaced
Either offer me support or take your views and go to hell.
If you won't help me when I'm sick, you sure can't help me to get well.

© Charlotte Green 2015

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

Re Vera (In Truth)


It's a hard day today. Today is my Nanna's funeral and because of my illness, I won't be there. She passed away on the 4th January at the ripe old age of 99. She had been in hospital, slowly deteriorating for several weeks so it was expected but as you can imagine that doesn't make it any easier. In fact, in many ways it was much harder. 

Ever since I became too ill to travel I have had this day at the back of my mind. I always knew it was likely to happen. If I'm honest, I dreaded it. To not be with my family, saying goodbye to her seemed too cruel to contemplate. Aware that each time my parents brought her to see me might be the last (another cruelty that in her elderly, frail condition it was her that had to travel to see me) when it became time to say goodbye, each time I would hug her just a little longer and try to memorise her face, what she was wearing, the things she said to me.

So here we are, finally. The day I feared would come, and I shall say my goodbyes at home in my own way. It will suffice because it has to. The hardest part will be knowing I am not there to support my mother, give her the hug she so deserves. 

My parents asked me to write a poem for the order of service so I could be included in some way. I am thankful that I managed to write something half decent - the pressure of knowing it may be read out today was a little daunting. My mum told me they would have to find someone who could read it without crying! It's called 'Re Vera' which is Latin for 'In Truth', which I thought fitting because Vera was her name. Interestingly, it's also Albanian for 'Summer'. I like that. That's how I think of her - endless warmth from her embraces, her love enveloping me like the slow heat of the summer sun. I shall miss her so very much.


Re Vera (In Truth)


I won't cry for you -
You're no longer in pain
I'll cry because I'll
Never see you again.
I'll cry that I miss you,
I'll cry now you're gone.
I'm sad that you had not
The strength to go on.
But I'm not sad for you,
You are finally free.
You're with all your friends
And you're with family.
You're up there with Grandpa,
Kate and Peter too,
With Edith and Audrey
To take care of you.
They'll love you and keep you
As safe in their hearts
As I will until
We're no longer apart.
It's their turn to have you,
We've kept you too long
So I'll try not to cry
Just because you are gone.
Age cannot stop you,
You're free from its chains.
No more will you suffer 
Its cruel aches and pains.
I'll cry because I miss you
And need the release
But I won't cry for you,
I'll be glad you have peace.
Though you're not here to hug me
Or dry all my tears.
I feel blessed to have had you 
Almost 40 years.
So sleep well dear Nanna,
For now you must rest.
You'll always be with me,
I will never forget.


© Charlotte Green 2015



Saturday, 3 January 2015

(It will be) Oh Kay

My first poem of 2015 is inspired by the gutsy Chestnut Kay. I thought the image of the Phoenix was fitting for us chronically ill types.


(It will be) Oh Kay

I take each day as it comes,
Take each day one by one.
Grit my teeth and flex those guns,
Howl at the moon and bang the drums.
Then step-by-step, bit by bit,
I'll haul myself out of this pit.
Bit by bit, step-by-step,
I'll prove I'm not beaten yet.
Slowly, slowly will I creep
Till my body lets me sleep.
At a snail's pace I'll rise.
I will regain a pain-free life.


© Charlotte Green 2015