Bork Slowly Borking

 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...

 Therapy today. I attended. Like a zombie. There is. Something going on with me. My sleep schedule is absolutely wrecked - from doing the work. I am sleeping all day, into the evening. And then awake late at night early morning. One big issue with my CFS bullshit, is that I find it  incredibly  hard to shift a sleep pattern around. Because in either direction I start to feel very ill if I try to push it. This is my lack of capability. Adaptability. Flexibility. It is one of the quiet consequences of being continually under assault with a chronic illness. You lose room to maneuver.  Also. Each day is subtly worse than the last at the moment. It is hard to pin down. It is a slow, subtle, slowly deepening hole. Mood. Energy. Wellness. The mood in particular is now falling quicker than the rest. It seems to have hit some kind of slippery slope. And has tanked. And continues to worsen. So I attended therapy. Like a zombie. Mid afternoon. Pulled from sleep. Fighting hard t...

 Sleep is all kinds of messed up. I can feel myself getting more "CFS-y" with each passing day. Still got my head above water just about. But. Trajectory is not good. My stomach is an absolute disaster. But eh. At least I'm not feeling nauseous with it. I am still suffering from "post work burn syndrome" so, maybe it evens out if and when I get over that. Maybe. As ever. The weird tides and storms of my bullshit are not subject to much in the way of logic or pattern. I spoke to Andy yesterday. Conveyed my deep dissatisfaction with having to do 8 jobs at once to get anything done and was sick of it. Sick of the work. Sick of the processes. Sick of all of it. And this was the worst ever example of it the Usual Dysfunction. But on the positive end of the scale I floated the obvious huge market opportunities for utilising my newly forged AI stack. He apologised multiple times. But. Talking about it. It's clear. He doesn't get it. At all. He understands it...