Flippin' heck, it's absolutely brass monkeys out there! And wouldn't you know it, our heating's decided to throw a strop at the worst possible time. But fear not - I've basically turned into a human burrito, strategically positioned under heated blankets scattered throughout the house like some sort of warmth-seeking treasure hunt. The cats are not impressed by the competition for prime heated spots, and we often pile on for comfort and warmth. Getting three cats on your bed in this house is nothing short of a minor miracle, I can tell you that much.

My Ellyllons have been doing their usual chaotic dance routine this week. My pain has been awful. I don't think the weather helps, but despite their best efforts to throw me off balance (literally and metaphorically), I've actually managed a couple of decent, well-paced, and ok days. Even got some council casework sorted, and left the house !! (Transported by my lovely chaffer, Paul). Though I won't lie - sending emails these days is like trying to knit with boxing gloves on. My fingers and hands are so painful and have their own agenda, with frequent shakes and tremors, and it involves frequent tea breaks and the occasional nap, whether I like it or not.

I'm hoping - note the careful use of that word - to make it to a sound bath on Sunday and a seated exercise class on Tuesday, aimed at the elderly, but let's face it, I feel 80 most days. But as we chronic illness folk know all too well, planning ahead is about as reliable as British summer weather. One day you're up and about. The next, you're horizontal, doing your best impression of Sleeping Beauty; except there's no magic fairytale prince to release you from your curse, and the cats are judging you for hogging the warmest spot in the house.

I did briefly consider a mad dash around the garden this morning in my Trekinetic - the snow looks absolutely gorgeous from my window. But then I remembered I'm not completely mental. [I’m still trying to talk her into it. If only for the photo op. - Paul] It's beautiful to look at, and that's where my outdoor adventure ends today, thank you very much. Sometimes, wisdom is knowing when to stay put under your heated blanket fortress.

The Good Stuff (Yes, There Is Some Today!):

My GP has upped my meds. I genuinely can't sing his praises enough. If there's one piece of advice I'd hammer home to anyone navigating this chaos: find ONE GP you trust and stick with them like glue. That's where my whole diagnosis journey started properly.

After 18 months languishing on an NHS waiting list (which felt like approximately 847 years), I finally saw a neurologist at a specialist clinic that treats FND just before Christmas. Such a breakthrough moment for me. I really felt he was on my side and would also be in my corner. Now, the report from said specialist is currently playing hide-and-seek somewhere in the NHS admin system, and I know I will end up back at the bottom of the queue waiting for the multidisciplinary team to start my treatment plan.

But here's the thing - it's still progress, isn't it?

I've got hope now. Actual, tangible hope that I can improve my FND symptoms and take some control back from my pesky Ellyllons. It's going to be a long, old journey, baby steps all the way, and the ME/CFS is going to keep throwing spanners in the works that I'll need to learn to dodge. But the hope is there, and that matters more than you might think.

The Reality Check (No Instagram Filter Here):

My house looks like a laundry bomb went off. The fact I can't keep it tidy and clean drives me bonkers. The washing pile has achieved sentience and is probably plotting world domination. Things that should be done, and were easy to do before, aren't getting done, because mobility is a right bugger when you've not got much of it.

But you know what? I'm learning not to let it upset me so much. It is what it is; I can do little things, and we have a cleaner who helps out with the big cleaning jobs. It's just so frustrating. But I can contribute to family life in small ways.

The most important lesson I've learned recently - properly learned and really working on myself with not just nodding along to - is that I cannot let the darkness take over. Because when those depression Ellyllons get their claws in, it doesn't just affect me. It drags down my whole family, and they deserve better than that. I love and adore them so much. They have full-time jobs, they take care of me and as much as they can around the home and Connor’s also studying for a master's. They are awesome.

Today's Silver Lining:

I'm not going to pretend I'm content with the way my life has been turned upside down. But at least I can see the yellow brick road to better days.....in the distance.

Some days I'm still properly angry about it, if I'm honest. But I'm learning - slowly, messily, imperfectly - to be grateful for what I do have and what I can do, however small that might be.

I'm here. Roof over my head. Central heating might be having a tantrum, but we've got heated blankets. And I've got my family - who I adore beyond measure and genuinely couldn't survive without.

Today, right now, cwtches up in bed, though I am with two sleeping cats and heated blankets galore, I feel a bit brighter. A bit lighter.

My headspace is clearer than it's been for a while. I'm no fool, I know it won't last - things changed so quickly on this never-ending rollercoaster, it never stops its vicious cycle - but I'm grabbing onto this moment with both my dodgy hands and holding on tight.

The pain's still there. The fatigue's my constant companion. But today, at this moment, right now (because I can't control the darkness), I feel hope. I feel blessed. And those depression Ellyllons can bugger off for a bit because I'm having a silver lining hour, morning, hopefully day, and they're not invited.

Three Good Things:

• Heated blankets are humanity's greatest invention - Honestly, whoever invented these deserves a knighthood. Multiple knighthoods. I'm basically a warm burrito of contentment, and the cats are furious about it, and stealing the warmest spot at every available moment.
• My GP is an absolute legend - Having one doctor who actually knows you and your condition makes all the difference. He's not just throwing pills at symptoms; he's helping me navigate this whole bloody maze. That specialist appointment before Christmas? That started with him fighting my corner. Listening to me and acting on his and our research into the condition and its treatment.
• I can still feel hope - Sounds daft maybe, but after some properly dark months, being able to feel genuine hope about improving is massive. The treatment plan's going to take ages, the NHS queue is what it is, but there's a yellow brick road forward now. That's something real to hold onto.

Daily Mantra:

"Today I'm choosing to be the burrito, not the filling that falls out. One heated blanket at a time, one small victory at a time, one silver lining at a time.

The Ellyllons can have their dance, but I'm still here, I'm still fighting - even if that fight looks like staying warm, doing very little, cat napping and keeping the darkness at bay, trying to be happy.

That's enough. I am enough."

Stay warm, folks. And if your heating's working, give it a little pat of appreciation from me.

Love Sha 💜

#WheelyHappyDays #FND #MECFS #Fibromyalgia #ChronicIllness #SilverLinings #HeatedBlanketLife #OneGoodGP #BabySteps #StillHere