Bork Slowly Borking

 So I have a pretty nasty cold. And a CFS system that is in crash / crash recovery flip flop state. Needless to say. It's grim. Most of the time I am not up to do anything. Sometimes I make a big effort to drag myself upright and do something "normal". Trying to do something normal is important. Skipped therapy this week. First time I have done so. I didn't want to spread what I've got, but, beyond that, I am in no place to do shit anyway. Spoke to Andy briefly yesterday. Laid out some plans for AI development. Andy apologised again for putting me through so much pressure. He is free of anxiety over it now. So. He's back to being a genuinely good guy. He said he cares. And that I can noodle around with some changes, but not to push it. Do what I want. Leave it. Or not.  This Andy I can work with.  I showed him some very recent AI developments. Another new local AI box has come on the market. Useful. There is definitely a pressure there at the local side of ...

 Maybe. This is just punishment. For pushing through whilst cooking. The CFS monster is raging. I slept some after cooking - crashed out. Woke up. I feel. Absolutely horrific. I feel like a truck has run me over. Pain left side of face, where the tingles usually are. Now it aches. My upper torso aches like a fucker. Like I've been beaten with sticks. And I feel utterly exhausted. Like someone has drained all the life out of me. Everytime I move it hurts. Sharp pains all over. Some kind of "face headache" behind it. It feels like I have a headache behind my left cheek. My eyes are a mess. It's super hard. Just lying in place. Makes me groan. This is super diabolical. Worst is has been all week. No idea what to do with it. Might take some painkillers. And. Sleep ? Again ? 

 The brutal CFS reality. This is my world. Today, I slowly got up, and decided to make a chicken stew. I had picked up some chicken thighs on the grocery run under the optimistic idea that I'd make a chicken stew. It's been a few days. Chicken is still good, but wont last forever. So today I did that. And I start with the idea. Yeah. I can do that. Go slow. No worries. Chicken. Start. Brown it. All good. But by the time I'm half way through cutting a swede I am struggling. I feel dizzy. Exhausted. The task disappears down a long corridor. It's just you. Gritted teeth. Knife. One more cut. One more cut. Keep going. It becomes diabolical. Your system is screaming at you about imminent collapse. Everything becomes painful. Everything becomes destabilising. Thoughts go out the window as the system just reduces down to emergency management. 45 minutes. I am done. I am collapsing. Staggering. I can hardly pick things up from the floor. I leave half of the things uncleaned whe...

 Went to see my friend - ended up staying for a bit of dinner. And did some groceries before hand. Both of these things were rough however. I had to drag myself out to see my friend. Not a case of good to go. But absolutely a case of gritted teeth. Going despite feeling like shit. The groceries were similar. I got maybe 75% of what I needed. Cut it short. I did not feel good. But dinner with my friend was good. Despite dipping hard. Eating a little something picked me up. Came home. Crashed out asleep. Perhaps. It shouldn't be a surprise. The day following that - yesterday. Was diabolical. The price perhaps of pushing when I was already in a bad state. I tried. Hydrating. A little food. Some rest. None of it made a difference. Yesterday was brutal. And I slept long. I finally surfaced into a shit state of being as midnight ticked over. And slowly. Warmed up. Yesterday was peak CFS bullshit. No matter what I did. How much I slept. I felt ill. And exhausted. Terrible. There is perhap...

 Consigned yesterday to the bucket of CFS and mentalry oblivion. Didn't do anything. Didn't move. Hardly ate. A few bathroom breaks. A few refills of water bottle. That's it. And I wrestled with how shit I was and just doubled down into rest and trying to shift my sleep pattern. Today. I have a little more stability. Frustratingly, resting hardcore like this can nudge the needle. I hate that I have to do it. But. Here we are. On reflection, my slow descent this week pretty much fits into a classic CFS, PEM style crash. You don't pay at the time. You pay  after . And your autonomic system lurches about. Too many alarms going off makes the whole thing impossible to exert any control over. You'd think by this point I'd get it. And I do. But. It's an ass. To be fair, this time it was slightly different. I haven't properly burned on something since getting ill. I burned. And stayed in flight, hyped up for a few manic days. Before everything crashed. You can k...

 Feel like shit again. An odd blend of mental health and CFS douchbaggery are dragging me down. I am stuck in molasses. And the trend is holding, worse each day. My sleep is stuttering. I am trying to shift it. Tricky. It has now fragmented into pieces. Waking up. But unable to stay up. Feeling worse whilst I do so. A bit of stabilisation in the wee hours of the morning. Sigh. I do understand what's going on. The clever AI's are useful. Autonomic systems running a red line. A tightrope. No flex, no steering. Very fragile. Don't fuck with it or else. Difficult. Yesterday my well being went through one of the common micro dips it goes through. System shifts into a feeling of being much worse. The feeling of illness intensifies into that, must, lie, down, sleep,  now . It's shit. As it occurred the well trod defensive patterns kicked in. I need to go sleep for some hours. Nope out of reality. Waste a bit of day in resting. And the misery followed it. I am just. Always. Fuc...