Unrest

Just finished watching the film Unrest on Netflix… I wish everyone would watch this, if only to see what life has been and is like behind closed doors – from those who suffer M.E. to those who care for the sufferers.

It is a cruel, dark, painful, lonely, and tiring journey for everyone.

I have been told it’s all in my head. I have been told it’s growing pains. I have been told someone else is making me sick. I have went through painful physio- and hydro-therapy sessions time after time. I have had numerous mental health assessments. I have had blood work done many times; an MRI on my brain; CT scans on my body. I have been pushed and pulled, and humiliated, and I have been called a liar.

I have been a 7 year old girl, in agony at school, alone on a cold metal bench, watching other kids play, and asking God if I was going to die, and asking what I did to deserve it.

I have been an 11 year old girl wanting to be free of pain, dizziness, migraines, light and sound sensitivities, mental fatigue, slurring, exhaustion, unrestful sleep for so many years… Just wanting to do things I should have been able to do.

I have been a 13 year old girl struggling to make it to school, bound in a wheelchair, and feeling so alone.

I have been a 15 year old girl mostly house-bound, finally diagnosed with severe M.E./CFS and CPS by a specialist in a specialist clinic, having them tell me they were so surprised I’d managed all this time with so little help… Asking me to speak in meetings to the other patients to help them, but having to refuse because I was too ill.

I have been a 16 year old girl too tired to fight, self-hating and self-harming. Wondering why very few believed me despite a diagnosis – wondering why anyone would think I would make this choice to limit my life.

I have been a 17 year old teen, realising that even those closest to you can be blind to your suffering.

I have been an 19 year old young adult, trying to come to terms that no one has a cure, and no one is coming to offer more help. That this is what life will be like for me. Trying to work through the anger and the grief to accept what I’ve lost, and what I won’t experience.

Here I am, 26 years old in 10 days time. Grateful for what I have, and for those who support me. I have learnt to dismiss the non-believers, and focus on what I can do.
I am an OU graduate with a 2:1 honours degree, determined to do a Masters.
I am a writer, editing my current novel that I will publish, and many more novels to write.
I have ambition.
I have patience.
I have imagination.
I have determination
I have strength.
I have compassion…

I also have M.E.

 

 

https://www.unrest.film/

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Seasons

All those in wicked ways,
Autumn breeze,
And Summer daze.

Fog driven madness,
Forgiveness,
For happiness.

Lies bare our truth,
Lives move,
Lasting soothe.

Gave all that I had,
Guise of glad,
Gotten bad.

In all these years,
I shed my tears,
It saw no peers.

What does the future hold,
Winter frost,
Without Spring bold.

 

By Maégan Boyle
3rd October 2017

The Long Way To Edit

OK, so I’m still at it.

I think now it’s a total of 8 months editing this novel, though I’ve not spent that entire time editing due to other things like visiting family, short-term writer’s block and a broken toe. How does a broken toe stop you from writing? You ask. Well, I say, because the darn thing hurts and I can’t sit still!

Anyhoo, the first 20,000+ words have been completely rewritten due to issues in not representing certain characters and relationships enough, but I’m now very happy with what I’ve written, and I hope this 13326576277359 time will be the last!

I don’t have an exact time frame on editing, mainly because I want to get it right the first time, so I’m going to spend time on “perfecting” it as much as I can, but I am hoping to be finished before winter this year for a final proof-read, and just to check over any spelling or grammar mistakes/typo’s.

I did have a bit o’ writer’s block the last week or two, just my brain-cogs decided they weren’t going to move, but with the help of my other-half, Alex, I managed to break that streak last night. Planning on continuing the new streak tonight. Wish me luck!

On other “news”, I’m trying to read more at the moment, but so far it’s full of dog training and behaviour books which I’m really enjoying. Just realised the other day I’ve still got several books I’ve started to read but haven’t finished.

I think I’ve resigned myself to not being able to finish The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton (shout out to my friend Laura – nope, I’ve still not finished it!). It’s not that the book isn’t good, it’s extremely well detailed and written, but for me it’s long-winded and just not my kind of genre… I think I’ve been trying to read it for the last 3 – maybe 4 – years.

That’s all for now, I think!
Best wishes ❤

Have a picture of my boy, Zeus, in Scotland from our recent trip to visit my in-laws 🙂

 

Untitled Free Writing.

Just a very random short story of 579 words that randomly came to mind…

‘I don’t know,’ I sighed. ‘I just think me and him aren’t compatible, you know? Like our star signs don’t match or something.’
‘You’re basing your relationship on star signs?’ Aubrey wrinkled her nose.
I shrugged. ‘No… Well, no because like, we just don’t have much to talk about. And he likes stuff I don’t like. He doesn’t even like watching Saturday Night Live!’
She took out the jar of peanut butter from the cupboard, and turned to me. ‘You do know you’re allowed to like different things, right?’
‘Yeah, yeah I know that. It’s just we don’t have much in common.’
‘You have loads in common,’ she laughed as she grabbed a spoon from the drawer.
‘Like what?’
‘Well,’ she began, looking up at nothing and sat at the table across from me. ‘You both like pizza.’
‘Everyone likes pizza.’
She looked at me hard. ‘No one likes peaches and pineapple on their pizza… Except you two weirdos.’
I snorted.
She sat up, and pointed her spoon at me. ‘Oh, and you both love those tiny pigs!’
‘They’re cute.’
‘You both like watching The Walking Dead,’ she shuddered.
‘You’re going to eat it like that?’ I said, watching her open the peanut butter jar.
‘Yeah, it’s so good.’
‘And I watch that because he likes it.’
‘He did take you to see Twilight. You know he hates sparkly vamps, and the whole miserable-face Bella thing, or whatever. You do things like that for each other, but you don’t do it with everything. You’re not going to do everything he does – you’re not supposed to. That’s clingy, and weird, and like, obsessive. That’s how relationships are, anyway. You have things you both like, and things you do separately because you like different things, too.’
‘Yeah, I guess,’ I said, reaching over to a magazine on the table and began to flip through it.
She dug out a scoop of peanut butter, and ate it. ‘Romance isn’t rocket surgery,’ she mumbled.
‘Rocket science,’ I said.
‘No, rocket surgery.’
‘I don’t even-’
‘It’s called a malaphor.’
‘The hell is a malaphor?’
‘It’s like two different metaphors squished together.’
‘Where’d you learn that?’
‘Tumblr.’
‘That picture site?’
‘Yeah, it’s like that Instagram you use, except better.’
I shook my head. ‘Well, we’re compatible anyway. Says here in this mag.’
‘Huh?’ She scooped another mouthful in.
‘I’m Libra, and compatible with an Aries.’
‘I thought he was a bull?’
‘You mean a Taurus?’ I laughed, then frowned. ‘Now I don’t know.’
‘I’m not the sharpest egg in the attic.’
‘That doesn’t even make sense.’
‘I know. But it’s funny.’
‘I’m not laughing,’ I laughed. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘Just see how it goes, will you? You’re always panicking about stuff. Just be calm. It’s not like you’re marrying him.’
‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘You’re too busy looking for that number ten, instead of looking for your number one.’
‘Wow, deep.’
‘Meh, Tumblr.’
‘Do you do anything other than Tumblr?’
‘Pinterest?’
‘Other than that?’
‘I read,’ she shrugged.
‘Yeah, what have you read recently?’
‘That magazine,’ she pointed her peanut butter-filled spoon at it.
‘And eat peanut butter by the mouthful as well, apparently.’
She waved the spoon in a salute after she ate the peanut butter. ‘Well, you’ve asked him out now, anyway… You’ve opened this can of worms, now lie in it.’
I shook my head. ‘You’re a malaphor.’
‘How?’
‘You’re both dumb and smart.’
‘I’m quirky.’
‘Yeah, OK,’ I snorted.

By Maégan Boyle. 10.03.2017

The Sensitivities of a Writer

You sigh.
Relief, or sadness?
Nostalgia, or regret?
Do you wish another outcome, and chance more pain.
When did you think it was ever going to be OK?
You can’t escape me, I am who you are. We’re inseparable,.
United in soul, bound in blood, sewn with skin.
We’re whole, yet pieces are missing.
Can’t replace them. They’re gone.
Another soul, was part of ours.
And we’re both sad, and relieved.
It could have been better, you tell yourself.
It could have been worse, I remind you.
There’s no guilt in grief, or crime in love.

I sigh.
Relief, or sadness?
Nostalgia, or regret?
It doesn’t matter. It happened.
There’s no time to change.
It went its way. It came, and went.
I talk to you, and you think of me.
You reach out, and I’m there for you,
Telling you what you needed to hear.
And you nod. Agree.
Saddened by fact, warmed by memory.
One month, we tell ourselves.
And it’s OK to cry.
And it’s OK to be happy.
Days are getting brighter; lighter.
Life surrounds you,
And it’s OK.
It’s OK.
I promise,
It’s OK.

By Maégan Boyle. 28.02.2017

No Bitter End.

I look at your face and wonder

What thoughts lie
Behind that hidden smile of yours.

My bones are aged,
And seen many days.

I ache.
And it pains me to see,
Your eyes are a mystery.
I thought I knew you well.

Yet here you are.
And I realise it was just wishful

Thinking all along.
But I’m not giving up.
There’s fight in me yet.

To know what the eyes say,
That face me every day.
I see light.
And I thought I could be saved,
Your empowering words,
Lifted me above the waters.
So here we are.
And I realise,
It was just me,

Trying not to face a bitter end.
But to find a worthy reason
To cling to the rise

And the fall.
Breath.
I find you,
Clutching me.
Disease that you are,
Looking at me.
Eye to eye.

And you tell me,
We’re going no where
Just yet.

 

By Maégan Boyle.
15.02.2017

Small Life

You used to fit into my child-size palm,

And I promised you you’d see no harm.

I watched you grow, sleep and play,

And you promised me you’d stay,

Always.

 

You rescued my heart

When illness caused me to fall apart.

You brought out the sound of laughter,

Because your antics became dafter

As you grew.

 

You would go through anything,

Because I was your everything.

Side by side we grew,

And tough times we got through

Together.

 

You would follow me anywhere,

Because being apart you just couldn’t bear.

I loved you more than I could show,

You never let me feel hollow.

My Shadow.

 

But the time came,

And no one was to blame.

You had to leave me,

And so I set you free.

But know, you’ll always be in my heart,

So we’ll never truly be apart.

I love you.

 

~~~ For Shadow ~~~
31.01.2017 — R.I.P. My beautiful girl.

By Maégan Boyle – 09.02.2017