Bork Slowly Borking

 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...

 Sleeping a lot. Pains are still there. They wax and wane in intensity across a 24 hour period, but they are always there, always significant, and they wax to very bad indeed. I'm also slipping back into slower, grubbier, more ill, more fog periods when waking up again. But. This might be where I haven't been so consistent with hydration salts. The effects are real. 3 days off them. And you can feel an anchor thrown out the back. Dragging behind you. A period of sleep today. I dreamed of nice things. At least there. Something nice. Not in pain. Not in misery. Talking. Flirting. Something that in the waking world is a million miles away from possible. I woke from that into a wall of unwellness. A "buzz" inside me. A feeling of hot, horrible, unwellness. Like a stewing flu. A plague. I mean that kind of literally. There is a horrible *feeling* to it. Something is very very off. Somewhere deep in the torso. And a faint electric buzz to it. Nerves perhaps. It is a faint e...

 Scraping along the bottom. Both mentally and physically. I seem to have fallen into a deep odd kind of depression. And the physical side is just reinforcing it strongly. No let up. A day which might promise a little lift is instead wiped out by any one of my recurring symptoms making life hard and making sure I stay on the floor. I have stopped fighting. I have stopped talking about it. The pains this last month have not been good. They have still not let up. Vicious all over pains. In the muscles. All over. They rise and fall in a day. At some points I can't manage a single step up without blinding pain. I have a step into my computer room. I stop often now before tackling it. Gather myself. And then step. Ride out the pain. And then continue. I am sleeping a lot. Often to escape symptom problems. They submerge beneath consciousness when I am asleep for the most part. And sometimes after sleep they have shifted around. Twitches are worse. Smashed my foot into the bottom of the be...