Bork Slowly Borking

 Sleep. That's all I'm doing. Occasionally I wake up for 30 minutes. Refresh water. Bathroom. And then crash out. The clock just whizzes around. At this point I am basically 16 hours in bed with those small blips "for air". My bullshit rises and falls in a series of peaks and troughs within those 16 hours. Sometimes bad. Sometimes quiet. I am in what I would class as a "semi controlled crash". In that. Overall I don't have much choice about it and am constantly asleep or extremely low energy - the crash. But. I am still coming up for air to get water and go to the bathroom. And there is a bit of a conscious gauging of time. And bathroom break - the semi control.  At the worse end of the spectrum I can have "no control". Which is where when I turn over. I have no water. No capability to move. Just. Somewhere down in the hole. And it's. Iffy. It can also become properly damaging in and of itself. Been there. Seen that. Got the scars. I think....

 The cost has arrived. I am utterly wiped today. Super. Low. So low. It's causing issues. Slow to move. Slow to.. just... breathe. It's. Odd. It's like just the regular functions suddenly become not guaranteed.  Everything  becomes a conscious struggle. And you can feel a strong tug into not sleep but some form of unconsciousness. It's. Odd. And. Not nice. It's about as far as being comfy and warm and sleepy as you can get. Today. I burned my last reserves I think. Plumber was round to survey my handiwork of dismantling the kitchen sink. Was unimpressed with the amount of mortar sediment I had pulled from the sink. I briefly related the story. They reckoned they had not cleaned their tools in the sink. Or dropped anything in there. That amount of sediment he said. And you can clearly see it's the same as the mortar on the wall. Just be honest about it. Did they cover the sink at all he asked ? No. Eh well. As it turned out, rather than put together the 30+ year ...

 Death by a thousand cuts. Monday. My heating install got finished. Not before second on site dude fucked up with the electrics, caused a massive arc, and fried my £400 router. Excellent. I didn't do it on purpose he said. Like. Oh that's ok then. Yes. I don't think anyone does do that shit on purpose unless they're a fucking sociopath. Whatever. Perhaps foolishly. I let it go.  Then. Later. The same dude. Did a small amount of mortar brick work to patch up the hole left by the old flue. Before. Sink worked. After. Sink blocked. Ok. I can take a guess. But. Eh. I called a different set of plumbers to take a look. I dont have the energy to sort it. Nevertheless. Halfway through the day. I thought I clearly saw sediment in the sink drain. And one thing lead to another pulled it all out.  4 inches of fucking mortar and sand in there. Very clear. This is incompetence. They phoned today asking if it was ok. No. Fucking sink blocked. I am assuming some fucktard cleaned their ...

 Each day is a fight. This has been true for so long I have forgotten what it feels like for this not to be the case. Each day is a struggle to wrench some form of stability or capability out of the jaws of absolute collapse and possible misery. There are zero foregone conclusions. There is little to no stability to build on from one day to the next. Everyday is a reset back to zero, justify todays existence via knives out hand to hand combat. It is. Difficult. Harrowing. Long term it poses its own challenges. It forms its own meta existential struggles. Not just the battle. But the war. Different timescales. All of them a fight. Yesterday I woke up feeling absolutely awful. As expected, the heating guys called in sick again. Despite promises, I didn't expect any different on a Friday going into the weekend. On getting the call bright and early that I would be without heating and hot water for Friday and the weekend, I collapsed back to bed and struggled to right the terrible ship....

 Heating is halfway through being ripped out of the house. Installed called off sick today. So. Today has been a limbo day. Old one half ripped out. New one half installed. Yesterday was difficult dealing with someone noisy in my space. I did not feel well yesterday. So. That compounded it. And not being able to drink for most of the day absolutely killed me. If I had had a better day I doubt it would have been much of an issue. On an iffy day. It's not good. Today I feel a bit more stable. A little better. Bad. But better. I have got much worse. My capabilities have shrunk right down. No doubt my lack of activity is somewhat feeding the beast, just speeding it all up. The hydration salts are - at least - keeping the worst of the demons away from the mornings. I can actually wake up in a slightly functional state as opposed to being a disaster. But still. Difficult all round. That quiet peace thing has returned stronger. Not the peace of contentment. The peace of oblivion. It's...

Today was supposed to be therapy day. And. Probably wrapping it up. An end. Irony. The therapist has cancelled due to a cold. So. Postponed til next week. I think now is the right time to halt the therapy. I have sat and thought about it and talked it through a little. There are some benefits to it - just in the turning up and talking. Even about nothing in particular. It forces a schedule on me. It forces me to grit my teeth and push against my bullshit to meet a given time and place. Whilst that is unpleasant and accrues a certain amount of cost. It's also beneficial. It can stabilise me out for a short period. And having someone listen and understand without the need to argue, correct, or need explaining to catch them up. Is a friction free process. Which helps. On the other hand. I very much feel like I've read the entire book at this point. I felt like that  before  this year long bout of therapy. But. On the offchance a long bout of talking to someone would magically fix...