Bork Slowly Borking

 The days have slipped past. My overdoing of it last week, I didn't pay for it the following day. It was a low ebb day, but I've had worse. The day  after  however was apparently pay day. I slept. Basically all day. Saturday ceased to exist for me. This is of course par for the course. The loss of entire days, or half a week has become at times routine. It comes and goes in a slow cycle. Some weeks you do better. Some weeks you do worse. And the cycle within a day. Often worse earlier in the day. Better later in the day. Overall in the last month my credit book has been more positive than negative. But. Difficult to tell. When all you're doing is sleeping anyway. Perhaps it's like that amazingly shitty insight that Trump had. If you stop counting the covid numbers, it seems a lot better ! In the same way. If you aren't awake for long, are not testing whether the CFS is biting, then it looks like the CFS is doing better ! Trump is an imbecile. Oh no. Now I will be fo...

 Today I had kinda planned to drop off some supplies to Hazel. Her boyfriend is visiting next week, so she's making an effort to get a few things done. Curtains for one thing. Hazel has bugger all of bugger all. So I was going to drop off my sewing machine and supplies to her. But today the CFS bit super hard.  Super  hard. If yesterday it was giving me a lesson, today it buried me. I got up and literally spent 5 hours trying to move more than 2 meters. Sluggish. Brain fog. A bone deep exhaustion. And a vague feeling of unwellness combined with a developing headache. I gritted my teeth. After 5 hours. And determined to drop supplies off to Hazel anyway. If you're sure she said. I am not sure I said. But I am going to do it anyway. So I wheezed my way to her. Trudging up the stairs with some stuff was hard. Like pulling a tonne weight uphill. But I did it. Conscious that I would probably pay for this at some point if not immediately. My exhaustion toyed with the idea of ma...

 Touch wood of late the CFS has been giving me an easier time lately. This is almost certainly due to me basically not moving, not doing shit, and sleeping a lot. The nausea, which may or may not be CFS related, is still a fixture however. After going out Monday for the therapy session, then working Tuesday, Wednesday a fairly full couple of days and  also  going out today to get my ears sorted out... the CFS has returned to remind me that, yes, you do have CFS, and no, you can't be doing shit like this without getting punished for it. I am absolutely drained through my feet. I can't even get the energy to sit up and sit at a computer. ( I am slumped in bed with a laptop, which, it has to be said, is also an effort ). The heat is not helping. Of course at the moment, mid evening, the temperature is only allegedly registering at 24.7C. Which is warm, but not hot. The  humidity  however has settled in at 77%. And the 24.7C feels more like mid 30's at the very leas...

 Running at an extremely low ebb. I know I am not doing myself any favours - not going out, not really talking to people, not seeing anyone, not doing anything. Constantly fatigued. I am sleeping a lot. And not moving. I uh. Yeah. At a high orbit level. Observing myself. Literally just curled in a ball waiting to die. I get it. It's not good. But also. This is my most "comfortable" spot. Everything else beyond this is pain. And. I have no inclination to be alive. To take part in the world. To do.. whatever it is that people do. No incentive. No joy. So. This Monday, therapy day, I had major anxiety. Super high anxiety. Why ? Good question. Don't know. I think my anxiety has been elevated somewhat lately - probably isolation and not moving is feeding that slowly ( because surprise surprise, if you isolate yourself, no contact, no outside world, you start going crackers, not least of which is anxiety build up )  - but eh, Monday was bad. Perhaps because I needed to go o...

 Quiet. I think the mental meds are doing their job. Smoothing out the crazy. Smoothing out everything a little. Up. Down. They don't promise happiness per se. Just. A little more stability. But even then. Their effects are not exactly predictable. In the past I have described them as lopping off the bottom of the trough. You still get sad, and are miserable or whatever you like. But you can't spiral into the deeps. You hit a glass wall at the bottom. And you even out. They also mute any highs you have. If you have any. There can be an odd rebound effect when you stop taking them. You feel  happier . For a while. I am not happy. Not even close to it. I have given up entirely on everything. No joy, no hope, no movement. Just existence. Same as usual then, except, the bottom is lopped off. Ish. I no longer am literally driven mad at times. Instead I dance on the edge. Bubbling. Not really sane. Not really insane. Sane enough for 10 meters away. The house and everything about me ...

 So I'm on a daily dose of maximum crazy pills. Either it's a coincidence or they're doing their work as I start to not climb the walls each day. I'm pretty sure it's the pills. Worked off and on this week, not greatly productive, not the worst either, at times it's hard just to sit upright. Sometimes the lights flick on and I can do a bunch of work. And other times. I am just a write off. I talked with Andy again this week about the state of play. He re-iterated that he doesn't care if I do nothing. He just wants me there. Because if I'm not there, things go pear shaped. He wants me there for advice. For nudges. Work on top of that is just a bonus. And I am not, at all, to burn myself out. If I do a Tuesday and that's all I can do. That's fine. Uh huh. He is being very careful with me, and I appreciate it. It still doesn't make me like where I am, or the capability I've lost. I guess what it is doing is not pushing me to just quit it all...