I’m one of the lucky ones.
Six years ago, almost to the day, I trudged my way through a half marathon. I knew at the time there was something seriously wrong.  I sat down after the race and I remember considering that day to be hellish. If only I knew the pain, fatigue and loss I would suffer over the next few years I might not have chastised myself for a slow run time.
My exercise slowly diminished to walking only. So I found something new for my free time – I would write. Not about M.E. but about a fantasy world away from my reality.
Soon that was taken from me too as the fog decended.
Over the following years, I gradually worsened until I couldn’t work anymore. Until showering meant the rest of the day in bed. Until my joints ached in pain.
But I do count myself lucky. The worst of it I only had to endure for six months and I have two amazing parents who had to watch me suffer and who did everything they could to help me through it. I had found what worked for me. What pulled me back up. And although I am still a shadow of the person i was. I can now work and laugh and I even finished a book.
But there are so many that can’t, who are being left to bear the horrors. To help them we need to make people, organisations and governments aware that there are so many suffering. We will never find the answer if we don’t start looking!