Oh, that dreaded word limit. It is one that all exhaustive illness sufferers know all to well. It is one of those terms like, balance and pace that echoes through our heads. Let’s take a look at it. The dictionary definition has it as ‘a point or level beyond which something does not or may not extend or pass.’ and secondly as ‘a restriction on the size or amount of something permissible or possible.’ That is a definition from my phone, not as in my young days from an actual book, Oxford’s of course. My I am a literary snob today, well I have to cling to some sense of self, so allow me this one.
Learning to live with this most pernicious condition, is about learning to limit. To limit physical activity and cognitive function; to live between the lines of what is not enough, too much and just enough. These lines are wavy and never still, making it a constant challenge. For everything we do the key is to stop before we reach our limit. The limit is the absolute, its too much, over done, too late now.
Yet, how to tell? How do we know when we are nearing this crucial point? Now that is the crux of the matter, that is the trick we need to discover; for all of us the level will be different and changeable in its own way depending on our individual bodies.
Set your goals but limit your sense of achievement, for every task you wish to complete, takeaway part of it. If you plan to hoover, you aim for a floor level, lets say down stairs, but then knowing that is too much in one go, select one room, then set boundaries, not a day for delving under or into furniture. A scoot around, until that slight squeak from your joints, that signals the danger zone. Anticipate the squeak and stop then, before you go that far.
Step one, accept the limitations of your life. Step two, accept the limitations of your limits. Step three, embrace your limits. This space between just enough and not there yet, that’s where we live. We may have limitless dreams, we can do anything and yes we can, just not all at once. Often when we reach our first restriction we find there is no longer any drive to achieve any more than that. Literally, our limit is our limit.
Crikey, am I even making sense now, or am I just repeating the word limit? I am making my own point as I sit here at my desk, thinking in my very comfortable ergonomic chair, (If you don’t have one, get one.) I set my alarm for twenty minutes as I began, knowing that thirty minutes is my limit for this. Yes, well done, good call Chris! Yet I am still sitting here, rushing words out, thinking just a minute more, meanwhile my dinner probably burns in the oven. No more minutes for me, practice what you preach Chris. Accept your limitations, instated for good reason, do not make yourself unwell, do not hurt yourself, follow your rules and finish off for now.
Back some time. and that is the truth.
Aha! I have returned, no alarm set this time, just a mental note made to keep it short and make it quick, indeed to ensure that I limit this activity. Yes I am living my point. I think I am making it all sound easy, but actually it is hard. It is easy to press forward and do too much, human nature pushes us on wards and social convention makes us think this is life, how we all should live, that more is better somehow. There is no more than enough, enough is of itself the right amount. In our life of limits, slightly less than enough is just right, that’s where we want to be and need to stop.
I am in a persistent battle at home currently to make a believer of limits and less to my daughter. In many ways she is much more accepting of this condition than I, maybe due to inheriting it from birth as opposed to my experience of contracting it aged ten and fighting for diagnosis for near twenty years. I had to fight for every inch of life, for every small achievement in order to validate my existence on this planet; where as she has identity in simply being. Physical activity is lacking from her life and we have different ideas of how she should be introducing this. She joined a gym, with friends, went once, developed flu, then one thing after another and has not been again. I object that she did too much, as much as her able, unencumbered, friends, hence my point.
I believe she should be starting in the house, on her walking pad, beginning with two minutes followed by a rest and repeated periodically though out the day for a week or so, before moving up to three minutes and so on, until a maximum of ten minutes; then adding in another activity, the same again on her indoor bike or Pilates, or anything she chooses. Or then off to the gym in a taxi for ten minutes and then directly home again; and so on, you get the picture, she screws her face up and rejects this as ridiculous. It seems she either sees no value in exercise or believes it must be much more than I suggest. In this way, she might suddenly go for a walk for half an hour and then be unable to move for days. I may be loosing focus on this topic. She refuses to appreciate limitations, stopping well within the limits of our bodies abilities, seems all wrong to her. I know better and I am just waiting for her to give in and admit I am right and get with the programme, she will, she always does eventually.
When we stop well before our limits, over time our limits expand and we can increase to meet our new level of restriction. In this we are ever increasing our abilities and achievements and may even reach near normal levels of activity, both mental and physical. We can get there as long as we are patient and stay within the confines of our limits.
There is no limit to the power of our limiting!
Chris. xx
Living With ME 