Sunday

 Feel worse again today. I wobbled last night around 9pm. Perhaps because I hadn't eaten dinner. Perhaps because I was tired. Perhaps. Just because. And then today, worse again.

My tingles greeted me as I got up. Weakness in legs. And everything... just off.

The left side of my face feels... tight.

The overcast day matches my mood, subdued, unhappy that my condition is disinclined to steadily improve.

My mind is in one of those borderland places at the moment. Aware and thinking and walking along the edge of the abyss, looking over. The shadows are long, and it's so easy for me to place a single foot wrong and end up pitched into that bottomless chasm. This is it. Whispers my brain. This is you. Permanently. Wait another 3 months. Watch it deteriorate. Watch them apologise for not catching something earlier. And what are you doing. Nothing to do. Sitting there. Bleakly staring at the walls. Waiting for existence to end. Paused, frozen, whilst everyone around you is a blur of life, alone in a crowded room. You don't want to do nothing. And you don't want to do anything. Stuck.

Cheery.

There are times when I am pretty bonkers to be honest.

But not yet hopeless. Fighting.

But even then. Fighting mentals for 25 years really starts to warp your perception of reality. Everything becomes a defensive action. And. It's unimaginably exhausting. Which just feeds the beast.

The cold really does seem to be affecting me of late. It seeps into my bones and I can't shift it. It takes hours to warm up even under a duvet.

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