The day after diagnosis

Well, i always said i wouln't be shocked or upset when i got my definite diagnosis of CFS; i knew i had it, everything points to it, but it was still somewhat of a blow. They told me what i expected to hear - there was a chance i could do well and recover or at least 'get my symptoms to a manageable level', but there were no promises, no guarantees. They told me in their typical matter of fact way, before i left the consultation room to digest the information, and they carried on with their presumably normal lives and careers. Bitter arent i? But i make no apology. I came here partly i suppose, to vent my feelings in a sort of anonymous way. Why for example are my studies now seemingly a waste of time because i cant work just like they can? Why are other people allowed holidays and trips while i sit day after day in front of daytime TV, in a life where cooking pasta and washing up become 'events'. I have spent hours congratulating others on their marriages, holidays, promotions - wishing this person and that person ' a lovely time'. Now i've had enough, and i am begining my blog with an unashamedly self-indulgent rant. But hopefully, even though this might not be admirable and a highlyingracious way of dealing with the illness, it might give a reflection as to how some (and not all of course) people with M.E. might feel.