It has been one entire year since I finally after so long of not knowing what was wrong with me, got diagnosed with M.E. It feels like it was only yesterday, but in many ways it feels like it was such a long time ago too. I remember welling up as the specialist told me there was very little that could be done. She told me I had to basically just get on with it, and find ways to cope with the symptoms as best I could. She asked me to set myself some goals for 6 months to a year on. I wanted to be able to make myself a sandwich without help, I wanted to be able to read again, I can do those things now. I also wanted to be walking more again, and easing myself back into society, those however, I'm still working on. Small steps have been made, but I still have a long long way to go, but I'll get there, eventually.
Getting a diagnosis has helped me in so many ways. You never want to be diagnosed with something that can't really be helped, something that holds such negative stigma and prejudice, but in a weird way it has been one of the best things that could have happened to me. Diagnosis is crucial in going forward. Since that diagnosis, a lot of research and communicating with other sufferers, I have actually felt like I was starting to understand what was happening and why.
Diagnosis is bittersweet. You don't want to be ill, but having a name to it, and confirmation that you aren't just a big hypochondriac is worth more than you could ever imagine.