My Facebook friends will know I was feeling a bit ropey yesterday, but I’d managed to pull myself together a bit before the readers’ group meeting. It was such a friendly group, I couldn’t have failed to have a nice time - there was even someone there who I used to go to school with, which was a little strange (but in a nice way). She hadn’t changed a bit!

When I’m tired, I tend to loose my…train of thought, waffle and/or forget my words. I did all of those things last night, but either no-one noticed or they were too polite to say! Once again, it felt more like a social event, and I really enjoyed myself. They even had a buffet, which I didn’t sample, but Gordon did, and he raved about the caramalised onion and goat’s cheese tartlets!!! Guess I’m going to have to seek out a recipe…and look for a goat’s cheese alternative (can’t bring myself to eat anything with ‘goat’ in its name). Claire was kind enough to take us almost doorstep to doorstep and, suitably tired, I had a fabulous night’s sleep. My thanks to Claire and everyone at the readers’ group for a lovely evening!

Next stop: Gateshead Central Library on 15th May 2008.

I don’t like days like these. The days after I’ve been out and I now feel rough, but know I have commitments in the week ahead. I didn’t do anything too energetic or exciting - just a wander round the Metrocentre - but I felt awful and we had to come home. I know that I really need to rest, but I get bored when I can’t do anything. Not that I have a choice…

I had to try and describe CFS to someone last week, and it’s so difficult. If you mention tiredness, people think of a time that they were tired, and try to relate it to that: it isn’t really the same. It’s physical and mental exhaustion, to the point where, sometimes, its to much to even try and hold a conversation. There’s no ‘normal’ day. Each day is different and you have to weigh up whether you should do things when you have a little strength, or whether you should conserve it. Then, if you do do something, you know there’s a real possibility it could confine you to bed for a day or two (sometimes longer). Making plans is a dilemma, as you want to try and live a normal life, but also know there’s a chance you’ll not be able to attend things you’ve agreed to and you’ll feel guilty for letting people down. As a consequence, friends no longer invite you out or you become reclusive and don’t make any arrangements…

Reading this, maybe you’ll understand what a commitment it was to sign up for the abseil, and why I’m not just worried about the abseil itself but also if I’m going to be OK on the day. You’ll also understand why I want to raise money for an ME-related charity. I already have a few sponsors (for which I’m grateful) but am hoping for many more, so if you feel you can afford to sponsor me, then please click on the link to the right of this post. Thanks.

Yes, I am online early today. Got a call from my sister at 8.12am this morning (the one person who was not worried about the abseil one bit) to say she was scared. It wasn’t the reason she rang, but slipped it nicely into the conversation. Apparently, she had driven over the Tyne Bridge last weekend, and realised just how high it actually is. Fortunately, she’s more confident about getting sponsors, as she’s a great sales person and it often seems like she knows everybody. Lyndsey could sell you water and tell you it was a DIY Ice Kit!

The average age of our group of six novice abseilers is just over 39. Funnily enough, on a scale of 1-10 (1 being the least frightened and 10 being the most frightened), I am at 39! A big “thank you” to the people who have been kind enough to sponsor me already - remember, EVERYTHING is gratefully received.

This event may well occupy my Blog quite a lot over the next two months, but I should also mention that I still haven’t heard anything further from my publisher or the agent I submitted the book to. I have a Readers’ Group event coming up a week on Monday, and I’m looking forward to that (although I will worry about it beforehand).

I’ve talked (and worried) about this for a while. I’ve pondered and panicked, wondering if I was up to the task ahead and if I could even manage to get any sponsors. Today, our booking was made, so there’s no going back.

As I’ve said before, I have a fear of heights (it’s not a phobia, as I don’t think it’s irrational to have a fear of stepping of a huge bridge). I even struggle with escalators, crossing bridges and being in high buildings. This is not a feat that is going to come naturally to me. So why am I doing it? Well, I’m usually the one who sponsors other people, or who helps out charities in less direct ways. This time, I thought I should participate, because I could let my fear control me, or I could try and do something to help other people, regardless of my terror. I will do everything in my power to complete this abseil, health and weather permitting.

We are a group of six:

Me; my sister, Lyndsey; my mam, Yvonne - supporting The ME Association (for obvious reasons) and The Stroke Association (the abseil takes place almost a year after my grandma died following a stroke).

My auntie, Karen - The Toby Henderson Trust

My friend Sarah - The Stroke Association

My friend, Julie - The ME Association and Cancer Research

So, now it’s down to you. Please could you consider sponsoring me? Or anyone else in my group, if you prefer to contribute to one of their charities? We have a page on Facebook, or you can use my online sponsorship form. If you use the online form, you will not have to enter payment details - you will simply be contacted after the event takes place.

“Every Little Helps”, as they say on the Tesco ads. I understand if you cannot afford to donate, but please at least take a moment to read about the work of these charities. Your support of us is as valuable to us, as the money we raise is to the charities. Thanks.