With steady mindfulness and pacing, I feel like my capacity for living with ME/CFS, at times increases. 🙂
Sometimes I even catch myself wondering if I might be improving. It’s been over 30 years now. What I’ve learned is less about returning to who I once was, and more about creating a meaningful and satisfying life within the boundaries that moderate ME/CFS sets for me.
It took a long while to move through the confusion, the anger, the grief, and the deep ache of seeing my old life fall away. I was bedbound more than once. Now I’m mostly homebound, but my home has become a kind of sanctuary—set up in a way that conserves every bit of energy it can, especially on days when PEM needs accommodation.
So when people ask whether we’ll recover what we once had if a cure arrives… I honestly don’t know. But I do know that the human body and spirit have a remarkable resilience, and that even after years of illness, small shifts are possible.
What matters most, at least for me, is that a cure would lift the constant threat of worsening, the fear of crashing, the weight of limitation.
What grows back from there—strength, stamina, joy—might take time, but I believe healing is never truly closed to us.
Whatever form it takes, we deserve days filled with gentleness, meaning, and hope. And if a cure comes, we’ll meet it with everything we’ve learned about patience, courage, and the quiet art of living with this illness. 🌿
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