OK so one day last weekend I achieved. I wrote this later that day.

I had a plan in my head for the morning I knew would be a struggle.  Firstly because it meant getting up, secondly because it involved some small physical exertion. 
In essence boxes into car, drive to car park, unload car, sell stuff, drive home.  2 hours tops.  Simple. 
In practice I mentally shoved my incredible fatigue to the back of my mind behind a cupboard, then grabbed the incipient pain and closed the door on it before it started showing off too. 
By 10.30 am I had been up for an hour, had sold most of my stuff and was begging myself for Tramadol (This is a mental battle I’ll go into another day).
I was determined to have a “normal” today, so I pushed on, met a friend for a drink at lunchtime then hit my local for one of their fabulous roasts.  This is where it really went wrong. 
I nearly cried as I struggled to cut up my food, my hands were agony. It ruined most of my enjoyment but I was there, I struggled on.  I wanted the tramadol more and more but I won’t take them and drive, so the pain crept on.
 By the time I got home I was ready to collapse, but some inner stubborn demon made me unload the bits from the car, empty the cat litter and put the rubbish out. 

OK.  Hands up, seriously rookie mistake day.  I am now in pain everywhere.  Joints throbbing and burning, hands on fire, muscles aching and screaming, and my lower lumbar is beating it’s own tattoo. 

So down go the tramadol (finally).  And as I lay here waiting for relief and monitor which body part is screaming loudest I am pondering this… I actually feel quite positive.  Despite the agony (no exaggeration) some small part of my brain is happy.  Satisfied.  It’s actually jumping up and down and yelling FURA!

My worry is that this is not a healthy ‘high’.  It’s great that I feel achievement, but it really sucks that the only way I can do that is by literally ignoring every pain receptor in my body until it screams stop.  I suspect my good mood will drop as the pain increases now I’ve stopped moving. 

My mental health is as important as my physical, feeling well is a holistic challenge and must be treated as such.  I guess my lesson from today is pace and limits.  I suspect my poor body will remind me of this incessantly for a while.