On Wednesday I had another go, and baked two wonderful, fresh, deliciously tasty loaves. I can't believe how ridiculously excited I've been about this. I had to keep taking them out of the cupboard, feeling them and smelling them.

I'm looking forward to baking the next batch. Yum yum!

It does involve mental activity, but of a far more basic form that reading etc. It's simply a case of recognising shapes and colours. This is a huge relief for my mind, which struggles with so many of the demands I put on it. In this way it's quite meditative.

It is something constructive, in which I am achieving something. And as other people with CFS will know, being able to achieve anything brings a huge sense of satisfaction. I am constantly reminded of all the things I can no longer do, and to sit down and quietly do something I can do is wonderful. It doesn't matter if I can't put many pieces trogether in one sitting; I can put it to one side for as long as I like and there is no train of thought to lose, as there is in reading, having a conversation, watching TV, etc. It doesn't matter how good or bad my concentration is; when I come back to it, the pieces will be exactly as I have left them and I can pick up from where I left off with no problems.

It also, no matter how slowly, always progresses towards being completed. I can never do something which will set me back, as happens all too frequently with so many other activities.

Anonther thing is that, with the right subject matter, it's a very real way of bringing the outside world into my flat. The jigsaw I'm currently working on is a lovely autumn park scene, with trees with multi-coloured leaves. So as I complete it, a scene of beauty unfolds before me. This in itself is hugely therapeutic.

It feels as though, if I move out to the countryside, this might help me to recover, but this is an unknown factor and therefore a risk. While I'm happy to take risks under 'normal circumstances', in my current, weakened condition, it feels as though, if the risk doesn't pay off, it might become overwhelming and I would not be able to sort out the situation as I would be able to were I in good health.

Much of the time, and especially when the noise and pollution in London are getting to me, I feel as thought it would be wonderful to live somewhere more quiet and peaceful. However, I have to be realistic and accept that this is an idealisation of what it might be like to live in the countryside. It's difficult to know what it would really be like to live in the country, it's also impossible to know whether it would help improve my health, and it's possible that if I moved outside I would be unable to move back in to London until I was well enough to work full-time and support myself, which could be years away.

I've had a slightly more active few days, which has been wonderful. Caught up with an old friend for coffee on Thursday afternoon, and saw another friend on Friday. Have felt quite weary over the weekend and last night I conked out at 9.30. Slept for 11 hours and today feel ridiculously tired. Note: tired, not fatigued.

I differentiate tiredness and fatigue in my case, even though I know the words mean the same. in my case, I use fatigue to describe the various symptoms of the illness, and tired to mean the effect of other things, e.g. lack of sleep or more activity than I'm used to. The kind of tiredness everyone feels from time to time.

When the symptoms of the illness are worse, walking feels like walking knee-deep in honey (imagine it) and I sometimes have to consciously think about putting one foot in front of the other. It also includes mental effects: for instance, I can't think clearly and my emotions go haywire. And any sensory input – light, sound etc – makes me feel very queasy.

I've been feeling quite a bit stronger for 3 weeks ago now. It's been such a relief not to feel ill every moment of the day and to be able to get outside; the fact that there's been a lot of sunshine over the past couple of weeks has made this even more of a pleasure.

Being able to do spontaneous things has been a joy too. When I'm at my most ill I can't cope with any changes to routine, but over the past couple of weeks I've had a couple of friends pop round at a few moments' notice, went to the pub with one of them, and on Thursday got a call from a very old friend, whom I've not seen for a couple of years, and went to meet him for a coffee. He's suggested coming up this weekend and should arrive in a couple of hours. Will still have to ensure I get time to rest and don't get sucked in to doing too much just because it's fun. (I'm going to ask him to do some tidying up for me while he's here, because this place is a tip.)

This morning, and for the past few days, there has been intermittent sun streaming through my windows. This makes such a difference. While I've never been able to identify a seasonal pattern to the course of my illness, sunshine – light, in general – makes me feel more lively and more alive. I've always been quite affected by the dark months of winter. I've had a lightbox (one of these)for the past couple of years, and it helps when the skies are grey and gloomy for days on end, but it's not the same as real sunshine.

I've been feeling a bit stronger over the past couple of weeks and am now able to get outside into the gorgeous sunshine. Plus, in the few patches of green that exist in this area of the city, there are crocus and daffodils sprouting everywhere.

This blog is going to be an outlet for thoughts and feelings I have about living with chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS), which I have lived with for 6 years. In fact, while thinking about how long it's been, I've just realised that the first day I had to leave work with what became CFS was 6 years ago today. That is a bizarre coincidence.

This will be a rather single-issue blog, as I'm planning to use it as an outlet to save me harping on to friends and family; so, if you don't want to read a single-issue blog on living with CFS, please just navigate away from this page.

I'll be adding to it sporadically, depending on energy levels, and it will be esoteric, as I'll be jotting down thoughts on anything that impacts on or arises from my state of health.