24 Feb

 Yesterday was migraine hangover day.

I stuffed myself with low level painkillers and took it easy.

Had a walk around the park with Athena. Had some lunch.

I've had worse. But I felt ill. Again. That oh so extremely familiar always there ill. Now ramped up. Always centered around the left hand side of my torso. Like a low level radiating aura of illness which waxes and wanes in intensity. At times in the past few years, it feels like I am carrying around a lump of plutonium that is sucking the life out of me on the left hand side.

When it's behaving itself, I can feel, bearably ill.

When it's not, it wipes me out.

The migraine has wiped me out.

One small silver lining from all of this. This week has given me a real good "radar ping" on what ails me and how if affects me. It's really apparent that I get wiped out, that it's all weirdly left side originating, and that the difference between bad, and bearable is enormous. There's something really fucky with me. And this week it has come out of the shadows a little and given a little more of itself away.

Anywho.

Today, if anything, I feel worse. How does that work. All my torso muscles ache. I guess this is a no brainer from all the vomiting. Which when bad, is often like a really dysfunctional gym workout. Curious how it took 24 hours to kick in though - probably testament to the grazing of painkillers yesterday keeping it dulled. Perhaps that means I should be doing the same again today.

I feel continuously nauseous. A low level sea sick, I feel ill, I don't want food nausea. The Usual Fucking Nausea that has plagued me over the last few years.

It's not going away at the moment. Sometimes I get a little relief from eating something which then fades, and I am left feeling queasy and ill and yuck.

I guess the migraine putting me through the ringer has upset my delicate equilibrium somewhat. Perhaps it will fade out a bit over the course of the next few days. I can only hope.

I slept long and deep last night. But not restful. The long and deep sleep that often accompanies my overall malaise. Sticky. Cloying. Like coming up from the depths of confusion and fog and illness. Surfacing from a swamp.

My hands have returned to playing their snow tricks on me. My arms are going dead. My hands tingling. And my chest flutters. A weird fluttery, not cool, vague panicky kind of feeling accompanied by an ache on the left hand side upper torso. A mild panic attack perhaps ? Super mild. It doesn't panic me. It just feels.. fluttery.. and wrong... and struggly and not very nice.

Eh well.

Pretty much all I can focus on at the moment. Being fucking ill.

It isn't worth it. I'd rather check out. But I am resigned to just plodding through.

I am not having fun.

I've stopped talking to people. I've stopped engaging. A deep, peaceful sense of just giving up has swept over me. As comfortable as I can be in my own home. A roof over my head. Heating on.

But just. Let me go.

I've tried to rouse myself to play some games. I really super don't have the energy for it. But I am trying. I barely have energy to watch some TV. Really.

I can actively feel my ill health isolating me. In addition to the mentalries. Everything is at work to isolate me down to a single point. No contact. Who wants to listen to me whine about how bad I feel. They don't. They have better things to do with their time. Their own problems. I am just one failing tiny thing. What. Do I matter.

Meh.

Anywho.

Despite the isolation mood downer. I did the washing up today. An act of teeth gritted spite. Fuck you. I will do something useful.

Meh. I am very far down that hole though, where doing the washing up is like the fight of your life.

Ho well.

It fleetingly crosses my mind about the possibilities of just disappearing down a chemical hole. If life is shit. Experiment with all the drugs. Wipe yourself out on some meds. What the fuck, does it matter. It can hardly get worse. Just worse in different ways.

But it's just toying with the idea. Ish. On the other hand. I don't think I would emit much in the way of common sense if anyone just rocked up and asked me to try x, y or z at this point if it might help. Suggestibility, high. Or rather. Lack of caring zero. Given up, high.

Somewhere high in a fantasty existence, I dream that someone will come save me. Right all the wrongs. Pick me up. Give me my crayons. And set me on my way.

Just a fantasy. Not going to happen. Life, doesn't work that way.

Roll on. Tomorrow is another day. Perhaps I will perk up at some random point. Even if only for a brief period of time. You never know.