Bad day

 Not a great day yesterday. Tired. Started going downhill about 1pm. By 2.30pm I was curled up on the sofa and exhausted. I went to bed. Slept until 6pm. Got up like a zombie risen from the grave. Bloodshot eyes, dark circles under my eyes. Felt even more tired.

Stayed up until 9pm ish, went back to bed.

Did not feel good. Or right. And bone tired. It made me worried. I said to Hazel I didn't want to go to bed but I had no choice.

She said I had been overdoing it again and had paid for it.

I washed the car the day before yesterday in a fit of positivity. Not gonna lie by the end of it my legs were proper shaking.

But I recovered, and thought that was that.

Perhaps not. Yesterday was awful. So bad I thought I was properly regressing into my "can't get out of bed" stage. The most worrying thing is when you sleep for four hours and wake up worse than when you went in. It gives you a certain sense of helplessness.

As I drifted off to sleep last night I pondered that in some aspects parts of me are engaged in a huge fight, the rational bit of me ever demanding answers and frustrated beyond measure that I can't figure out what's going on with me, and my body teaching me the hard way that I have to let go of it and just let it happen. The irony that quite the intellectual challenge has not been posed externally, but is an internal thing. Eyes always out on the horizon of the universe, meanwhile the problem questions are right here with me. Funny. To me. I'm probably weird.

Woke up early, felt like death warmed up. Oh no. No no. Rolled over back to sleep.

Next time I got up I fortunately felt a bit better.

Hazel said I shouldn't be doing things I didn't need to do - like washing the car. This is what fatigue is she said. You have to take it easy or wipe yourself out. I didn't just want to languish I said. Not easy.

Eh well.

I am a slow learner with this it seems. I think part of it is I can't quite believe it. Regardless of whether I believe it, it kicks my arse. *Whatever* it is.

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