Bork Slowly Borking

 Things have got worse. Just everything a half turn of the screw worse. Noticeably. Twitches are up. Loss of feeling is up. Pains are up. Tinnitus is way up. And crept into both ears. The twitches are now a very regular thing. Typically when I am in a more relaxed state or asleep. They follow the same pattern. An involuntary spasm. Sometimes minor. Sometimes major. They can kind of occur anywhere, but legs and arms are common. Some sudden jerk of my neck or teeth or back during sleep also happens, wakes me up. I woke up at some point during sleep the other day as my left leg shot out and kicked. Not the first time. This time I managed not to kick the wall, and just swept over the top of the bedside table. I am ambivalent about them. They don't too often do me damage. Sometimes they do. In the scale of things that make my life horrible, they are a far off issue. Albeit. A very visible one that Something Is Off.  Every day has pain these days. It has been like this since, what, ...

 Yesterday was hard. And it didn't relent. All day the exhaustion was upon me. And a mild touch of brain fog. Concrete in the front of my brain. A weird headachey soup that is not a headache. That slows everything down. Everything suddenly has a notable start cost that is difficult to wade through. And then has a maintenance cost. Like swimming with concrete shoes. I use the word concrete, because it kinda feels like that, the frontal lobe, feels dense, immobile, heavy. That bit of your brain is the modern bit. With all the fancy thinking. What people would identify as "them", but really, is the obvious chatty, abstract thinking, frontman. Perhaps then it is no surprise that when it feels to me like it is full of concrete, everything associated with that bit of the brain slows down. Becomes a serious effort to initiate. I reached out to a friend late yesterday. Just. A ping. To see what they were up to. Really. Just to get them to talk even if a little. To move me from me...

 A single day after my last post saying that morning were better, they got worse. Funny. Since then I have been struggling against a slow declining slump where each day is harder than the last. You can feel it. Like sand disappearing underneath your feet with each wave that rolls in and eases out. A little less energy. A little less time. A few less hours of functionality a day. Until you're fighting for just a few hours out of the day. And that has become hard. I can feel the exhaustion linked with it. Possibly for the first time I can feel the link between the two. And the subtle increase in *weight*. Everything is harder to move. Everything takes more effort to start moving. Today I am struggling with it. Very slow. It threatens at any minute to push me under and return me to sleep. Where the day will simply pass in a blur. All I seem to be doing today is sleeping. And peeing. I haven't eaten. It doesn't seem to be making a difference lately. I will eat. I just need to.....

 State of the Union. I have given up telling people how I am doing. I have given up talking period really. But when I do. I have stopped telling people how I am. We covered this a few weeks ago in therapy. Because even there, I was withdrawing. And I had to drag myself backwards to stop that. I told the therapist what was going on. And that the therapist had started to be swept up into my distancing isolation don't tell protocol. And that obviously. In the case of therapy. This is not what you do. Duh. The therapist noted it. Commented about pulling back. Withdrawing. Making myself small. Whatever. I've become bored of trying to explain it. Not that I am trivialising it. It is. My life. So this is isolating. Because if anyone truly wants to understand what I am going through. Or who I am. They would need to know this. And. I am not letting people know this anymore. Hence. It pushes everyone away. Anyway. How am I. Let's start with the very short list of pros. Hydration salt...

 I have changed. Am changing. The schism that has been so many months in slow progression has turned out to be not a passing thing. But a slow tectonic shift. Arguably. It is a shift 16 years in the making. A winding path that has inexorably returned to its original darker tread, the last few years of which have been a keening cry of grief that has settled into the quiet of desolation. Perhaps such diversions are human life in a nutshell, where sometimes they stick, and genuinely a new direction takes hold, the compass wheel shifts, and a different vista falls on the horizon. But sometimes they don't. Sometimes it is swimming against the current. Certainly I have seen this pattern repeat many times in others. People pushing against their fate. Their nature. To something better. Or different. Only to peter out. Tired. And the current wash them back downstream again. I think this is life at the macro too. Cradle to grave. The absolute. Swimming against the inevitability of mortality....

 It has been a while. Quiet. Everything has seemingly shut off. The few thoughts I have flitter quickly away. There are no more corners to explore, no more boundaries. I have the conclusions. I know where each piece of the puzzle fits. And it is grim. And there is no more to it than that. In the space of this last month I have made my therapist cry. Out of empathy. Or sympathy. Or something. It was not my intention. And when the therapist cracked I immediately softened right the way down and shifted to soothing them. Apologising. For sharing sufficient pain for them to be that sad. I warned them. A year ago. People are always confident right until the moment * after * they've just stepped off the cliff. So it goes. Human nature. Therapy has been quiet overall. I have little to say. The therapist pokes around the edges. My assessment of some time ago to stop therapy, would in the end seem to have been the right call. Not because I am "fixed". But just because there is noth...