4th Feb

 The last few days have kicked my ass. Are continuing to kick my ass.

CFS. Depression. A delightful mix. Call it what you like. But I am totally wasted. I cannot stay awake for long before the pull of going back to bed begins to really tug at me, and not long after that, I don't have much choice.

I have zero energy. I can do ass all. And if I am up. And attempt something. It feels like I am buried in sand. So extremely heavy. Everything is a huge effort. And I'm flat. No joy. No nothing. No interest. Just. Switched off. Wth a horrible sense of just wanting to tap out. Disappear. Drop dead.

I'm fairly sure it is both CFS and Depression coming together to kick my ass. There are familiar feels to it that remind me of both.

I have wrestled my sleep around to be the Right Way Up. Pretty much asleep during the early hours of the morning, and awake.. eh heh... "awake" during the day. But it's disastrous compared to my flipped cycle. The days are awful. And I lapse in and out of sleep. Flatlining in mood. No energy. The nights I sleep for the most part. But awake at 2am. Then 4am. I turn over. Sometimes I get up for half an hour or an hour and drink something until I feel sleepy.

What's going on ?

I don't know.

I think my whole birthday thing hit me way harder than the thinky bit of my brain imagines. I think the milestone ended up fucking me over proper. It felt like a line in the sand. Like an end game summary. 50 years. Ok. That's a good amount of time to understand what your life was. What you did. And it's horrible. Good bits. Lots of bad bits. The 50 mark made me summarise the output, conclude the experiment, write up the conclusions. And it's shit. So very very shit. So. I think that really fucked me up more than I thought. Also it felt like overnight I lost the capability to talk to young people. They were now off limits to me. Which also sucked. It shouldn't matter, just one day. But. There's a line somewhere. And 50 felt like it.

I dunno. Intellectually I absorbed all this and just got on with it. Whatever. I'm not sure. I think emotionally. It took a day. Or two. To slowly grow. And just wipe me out. My inner animal incredibly not happy about it.

Who knows. I could just be rationalising something that's not rational. Could just be coincidental. Lack of sunlight. Lack of contact. Lack of go. Just. Brain chemicals going up and down as they do.

But. Even intellectually. I could sense the 50 thing Was Not Good. A damning conclusion to my journey through life. A Trustpilot review. 1/5 stars. Fuck that. After 50 years, that review has weight. Not just a knee jerk review, lack of experience, better things to come. No no. That's pretty much the meat right there.

Meh.

Anywho.

I've noticed a few things.

If I skip eating for any length of time. My energy and mood tank like a mother fucker.

After a short while being up, I get tired, I need to sleep.

My asthma has shot up.

My allergies have shot up. Itchy eyes. Sneezy.

Perhaps the former is tied to the latter. Something is stirring in the late winter air, and it's fucking with me considerably.

The last month or so my asthma et al has behaved itself. I can tell you this. It's not a household thing. Not dust. Not me. It's an outside thing. If it rains, it kicks off. If it warms up, it kicks off. If it's too warm it goes quiet. As Autumn advances it kicks higher and higher, then in the dead of winter dies. As spring starts to come back it comes back.

I am thinking. Fungal spores. And probably a bunch of other complications. But. Mmm. Damp. Not too hot. Not too cold.

Anywho.

I am struggling to survive at the moment.

I want to die.

I am not active in that pursuit.

It's just a bone deep exhaustion and unhappiness at everything.