Hello! My name’s Barnaby Eaton-Jones, but that’s my problem.
I’ve had M.E. since 1991, so that means I’ve been unwell for longer than I’ve been well. This, as you may imagine, is described by me as ‘a bit of an arse’. Which is somewhat of an understatement.
So, picture the scene – a young, lithe, handsome man, with the intellect of a Greek philosopher and the physique of a Greek God. Then, look just behind him and there’s me pulling faces behind his back. Yes, I don’t think I took anything seriously until this nasty illness grabbed me by the lapels and pinned me up against a wall, like a school bully. I had just finished my GCSE’s and was excited at the prospect of Sixth Form (no uniform, woo-hoo!) and A-levels. By 1992, when I sat my exams, I was lethargic, suffering from severe anxiety brought on by not knowing why I was so run down, and had gone from being an energetic Tigger to a shuffling Eeyore. It was all a big Pooh. If you’ll pardon the analogy.
To read the rest of Barnaby’s story, click on the link below: