Funny, Honest, and Fatigued: Reflections on Miranda Hart
I’m taking a slight detour from my usual blog post themes of fantasy fiction and editing – and for a very good reason.
Miranda Hart is an icon for me. She’s funny and unapologetically herself, has incredible one-liners and is just an amazing human being. I used to love watching Miranda, especially in the early mornings when my nephew would wake me up. He was absolutely captivated by her, and oh, those giggles!!
That said, when my mum first told me Miranda had written a book about living with chronic illness, I just had to buy it – and I’m glad I did. To read about Miranda’s journey with her health (and a very long journey at that!), and how it has impacted every element of her life … well, let’s just say that I related more to her than I ever thought possible. I didn’t even know she was living with this experience, because a lot of people with chronic conditions have learned to hide it. To mask their pain. To make sure that they seem normal so that people won’t feel uncomfortable.
And that is absolutely exhausting to maintain for long!
I don’t like to share too much about my own experience with chronic illness aside from the odd post to raise awareness around this fluctuating, long-term condition that I have, so reading Miranda’s honest and rather vulnerable words resonated with me. Chronic illnesses are just that: chronic. They can come and go in severity, can gaslight you into thinking you’re cured, but they’re never really gone. They’re also unpredictable in terms of which symptoms hit you on which day, in which combination, or for how long. For me, a 30-minute walk one day can be fine, the next it can be devastating. There’s no rhyme or reason: it’s just the way it is.
Conditions like ME/CFS are perhaps not as understood as they could be, and I’d argue that it’s only when you suffer from one such condition yourself, or you live with someone who sadly suffers from one, that you fully understand just how much they change who you are and how you live. I can see the toll my illness has on my partner, for example, who is an absolute champion and my biggest supporter. I saw how worried my aunt was when she came to visit and I ended up sleeping on the sofa for hours on end, my skin turning blue around my mouth even though I was buried under a mountain of blankets, jumpers and even a dressing gown (and this was in August!).
What I took away from Miranda’s book (other than her ten ‘treasures’) is that even the brightest, bubbliest, energetic-seeming people can be living completely different lives behind closed doors. It’s a poignant theme for me, as I’ve always been known as the chatterbox, the ‘bubbly student’, the one that is always rushing around, the independent woman with dreams and ambition. I still am that woman, deep down. I’m just a little more subdued, a little more careful with where and how I spend my energy, and a little more conscious of how my body feels and its limits.
Thankfully, editing is a task that has suited my symptoms well, and with every fantasy novel or short story I have the privilege to read and edit, I feel a little bit more of that old me returning. I can get lost in secondary worlds, forget the limitations my body can sometimes have, and show myself, my clients and the world that I have so much to bring to the table. My illness actually makes me a better editor. I’m more focused, take regular breaks to ensure I’m not desensitising to the writing style or the plot, and I’m more eagle-eyed than ever before!
So, thank you, Miranda. Thank you for making me feel that I’m not alone in this, that it’s okay to ask for help and to be vulnerable.
If any of my blog readers know someone who lives with a chronic illness like Lyme disease or ME/CFS, reading Miranda’s book may give you a bit of support and knowledge, and your loved ones a bit of hope and comfort.
Heather x