Bork Slowly Borking

 A small note. Tired. I shuffled downstairs to get more water. Slowly turning over all the things I had been thinking about. Touching on the enormous pile of things I had recently given myself to do in the computer sphere. Realising it was too much. A symptom of an overbright burn ignoring the reality of the low ebb of energy that is typical. And I grazed past my sadnesses again. Just briefly gently passing my hand over the place where Athena's head would be. There is such a depth of loss in there. For the pair of them. Months turn into years. I miss them dearly. In a flicker of a moment it rises up strangles me, brings me close to tears and I have to steady myself. Breathe. A conscious engaging of self control and zen. Meditation. Not suppression. Not control.  Management . Calm. Water. Moving along. I shuffled back up the stairs. Not hopelessly sad. Not suffering from nausea. Not feeling terribly ill. Deeply tired. And slow. And low energy. But for me. Relatively even ground...

 Running on fumes. A few hours of sleep and then I had to stay up. And maintain. Shakily. Slowly. Delicately. Because I had a visitor. Our all round good sort came up from the office today to drop my laptop off. I always feel bad about someone driving all that way just to do my sorry ass a favour. And whilst here we had a look at the car. He's a former ( and still is ) tip top mechanic. He now does it on the side as his own business. He's one of those guys who knows how to strip a car down to its underpants and put it back together again, and has all the associated skills of welding, electronics and blah. Andy uses him as the company Mr Fixit. The super Mr Practical in an office full of non practical nerds. As it turns out the car needs a proper garage tear down. A problem with the traction control. Either genuinely. Or. More likely. Fucky electronics. After disappearing for a day on Monday, the car had the good grace to show the error and sulk whilst he was there. His fancier ...

 Nausea is slowly tickling back. A little higher. A little worse. It perhaps is a sign I need to lay off eating anything crazy. And live a while in Porridge land, and be careful with the when of eating. I have been super tired today. Paying the price for my overburn of the last few days. I mean. Predictable. The tiredness whilst fitting the usual Bullshit pattern, hasn't been super killer. It  has  made me feel ill and brought on the usual Bullshit, but, it hasn't been cataclysmic. I am still somewhat functional. So. That's a win I think. I need to compile a nice list of my symptoms and their mechanisms. I think I have an explanation for a whole range of different symptoms and how they all fit into a dysautonomia pattern. At the moment I have the information scattered around. I need to pull it together into a concise knowledgebase. This would help me refer back to it and understand what I need to do and when and why it's happening. Because inevitably I am going to start...

 Tired. Little sleep. Out to go to therapy. What's that you say ? A little stabilisation. A little capability. And then you immediately go full to the wall taking the piss and overdoing it massively ? So clever. Much smart. The epitome of wisdom. Thank you. I prodded the car a little this morning. Running on no sleep. It complained about engine malfunction again. The ODB tool showed no problems. No codes. Nothing to look at here guvnor. How wonderfully useful. Fucking cars. So very 20th century bullshit design. In any case. After a small parking move. And a while. The car has given up complaining and now thinks everything is just fine. Having made a few observations and prodding tests. I have come to the conclusion it's either an iffy wheel sensor. Or the electronics are aging out with maybe some trace corrosion or dry joints. One of the smoking guns was not even turning the engine over. Just ignition on. And it said. Engine malfunction. That rules out a whole bunch of stuff. N...

 Mixed bag. I am still better stabilised than I was at the start of last week. Night and day. Not good. Never good. But much better. And the nausea, whilst it has very very softly rumbled about today, is behaving itself. I think this is a warning to me that I cannot take the piss with my careful regime of what I am eating et al. Perhaps a few days on and a few days off is the smart play. As one problem tones down, others pop up to take its place. I have done my best to clamp down on anxiety about the fucky laptop and the fucky car. In the normal walk of life, these things should be no brainers. To me. They are a source of major anxiety. Because I am so variable. Because it's not guaranteed at all that I am awake at any point in time. Normal run of the mill life chores become monsters. You only need to look at the fact that I almost never cook for myself. Or do much of anything. Let alone venturing into the world to do shit. It is a mark of how much capability I have lost. So. It is...

 Last evening was nice. A bit of dinner. A bit of gaming. A lot of talk. We talked a fair bit about the passing of Matt. One of the guys at the table knew him very well - was the person who was in shock because they'd talked to him a few hours before he had died. It was good. In the sense of humans sharing information, emotions, outlooks. You know. The human thing. I sound like a machine. I think part of me is at this point in my life ( blame the machines who I have had to think like for multi decades ). But. You get what I mean. I crashed twice during the evening. One after eating. Probably the most predictable. A real heavy dimming of the lights. As Dr GPT points out this isn't a carb crash. This is an autonomic crash. Not enough resources to go round. A brown out. If you like. It's devastating when it hits. It's also fascinating when you started understanding the underlying mechanism and  then  correlating it to the huge dip in cognitive capaility, apparent exhaustio...