Bork Slowly Borking

 Felt a little less like garbage the last few days. The allergy like things seem to have toned down, but definitely not gone. And whilst yes, I still am pretty shit, I have had worse, and eh, it's a slightly better patch in the sea of shit. So, I dunno, small victories perhaps. I've not really kept track of it, but I see a lot of hand wringing and fucked up statements regarding Israel and Palestine floating around. The unending utter hatred continues to burn on, causing a lot of lost lives, and further still, no end of animosity and shitty behaviour. Personally I have tuned it out. As absolutely terrible as it is. It's just a perpetual cycle of death and bullshit excuses. If you cannot do anything about it. If the participants don't want to do anything about it. If death seems to be the agreed thing. And no one can, or wants to stop it. Then. It's going to happen. Jesus, people don't even have the guts to stand up and say stop killing each other too loudly, for

 Autumn feels late this year. Warm. Too warm. The sign of the runaway global warming going on. Still. A nice day today. Crisp. Not cold. Not warm. Perfect walking weather. UK can be so nice this time of year. The waters are up. Consistently high levels.

 I've been thinking a bit about this over the last few days. I could be off here. I've been thinking about the whole nephew thing. About the very matter of fact no emoting reaction of my sister. About how our whole family is that kind of deal. Locked down. Clip round the back of the ear. Everyone has to suffer, you're not special. Get on with it soldier. Have you tried this solution. Perhaps one way to classify this is a general dearth of sympathy. I've thought about it. My old man has no sympathy. At all. Zero. Zip. Nada. He rarely - if ever - thinks of anyone but himself. In so much as either directly about himself, or just about how others interact with him. But I have never ever seen or even seen the hint, that he thinks about others entirely, like from their perspective, how they are feeling, if they are struggling. My mom was similar, but more complex. At times she could absolutely be that. To a tee. Perhaps even more hardcore, more smacking around the head. But t

 I am ostensibly, back to some level of even keeled misery. I cried myself to sleep last night. Sad. Of course. Suicidal. Yeah. I howled into the dark some. And then I slid into sleep. Gone. I slept long. Again. The fog of sadness around me, but, the edge of suicide was gone. Just. Sad. Levelled out. Even mood. Even if that even mood is low. Perhaps no little effect due to the mental pills I am. They tend to do that. Even you out. Not allow you to go or stay too low. Ditto highs. It means, sometimes, you tend to bounce, rather than stay stuck to the floor. Depending on the med, the exact effect is different. The ones I am on tend to let me reach bottom pretty easily, but, not stay that way for too long. Ish. Sometimes. The ones I was previously on would not let me stay at the bottom for more than a blip before bouncing back. That's enough of that. No more misery. They ended up having some wicked "blipping" side effects however. Today the ghost of Ares has been following m

 It's late. 3.41AM. Or. By pre clocks moved back time. 4.41AM. A few hours ago I saw Matthew Perry had died. Shocking. And sad. 54 years old, apparently a heart attack in the hot tub. There were, apparently, some strange messages on his instagram in the last few days. I checked them out. They didn't seem to be the messages of someone in their right mind. I wonder about the heart attack. It doesn't seem like it was on its own. I'd bet dollars to donuts he was struggling mentally again. So sad. I spent a lot of my younger years watching him on Friends. And there have been very grim moments in my older years where I have binge watched reruns of Friends. Its presence a small comfort through some of my darker moments. It is strange that he is now gone. It's going to forever tinge that memory now. I never imagined he would die. Not in my reasonable life time. Death sucks. As ever. Can't quite sleep. Been noodling with a few downloads and installs of software. And some

 Ironic timing ? Fate, always a bit of a joker, having a laugh ? My ass having exploded last week, I got fresh through my letterbox a missive from the hospital. That there is indeed still a major issue with my ass. The MRI showed it up. And oh, we had better do something about that. Surgery. General Anaesthetic. Electric Boogaloo the Return. It has taken them some 9 months to bother to tell me the outcome of my results. I went for those tests back in January. That MRI result has sat there for the better part of a year. Doing nothing. Interesting fact about what's going on with my ass. The longer you leave it, the higher the chance of it becoming cancerous. Uh huh. Also, another interesting thing about the letter. Rather betrayingly it noted that it was dicated on the 7th October. Typed on the 21st October. And then sent "unvalidated to prevent delay". And got to me on the 27th. Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha. The NHS takes 20 days. 20 ! To send a missive once it decides it needs t

 I have fared a little better today. Which isn't saying much. But still. I now have it in my head that at least some of my flaring allergies / malarkey is due to the small hole in the ceiling in the front bedroom and that I really should do something about that. Like fixing it. And possibly doing a once over of making a better airtight seal around the loft hatch. Such things are the mark of pre fucked up me however. Sometimes my brain forgets. But we shall see. I want to do it. But despite having a slightly less shit day today, I have not done anything about it. Instead I channeled some energy into a few loads of washing and changing the bedding - gasp. At this rate, I might actually achieve a few things. My nephew messaged me today. He has cancelled the weekend. Working. Apparently. He's largely been off from work lately - only worked a couple of days in the last three weeks. So maybe he has some stuff to do at the weekend. Something tells me this isn't the case though, an

 Sleep. Sleep. Sleeep. Rough when waking. The usual. I slept half the day away. Not up until 2pm, and then only because a work message pinged through. As I had slept half the day away, I worked late instead. Went for a walk with Athena at dusk, but otherwise, worked late late. So, swings and roundabouts, I did a full days work anyway. Despite the sleeping. Unexpected again today. My nephew called me. One day after I had spoken to my sister, and a few days after he had last called. He has decided to come visit on the weekend and get me to teach him a boardgame. Sure. Can do. No problem. Take me as you find me - ie, appallingly crap. But as long as you can tolerate that. Sure thing.  He then went onto talk about what was troubling him again. No joy. No money. I let him talk and just listened. He said he would have periods where he was ok, but then someone would ask something of him. Or compare something. And he would go down. Feel bad. And then spiral. His son wanted to live with him. Bu

 Tricky. Rustling up some bleary eyed wellness to do some work today was a struggle. But in the end I managed to make myself useful. But oh boy it's hard. Harder than it has ever been. I've never struggled like this to do work. It's not that I can't do it mentally. It's the physical side of it. Which is ridiculous. All I need to do is prop myself up with a laptop and type. Which perhaps is a mark of how bad I am. I absolutely struggle to do it. Bleary eyed. Feeling like shit. Exhausted. Ravaged by whatever bullshit is going on. Eh well. Carry on the good fight. Trickier still. I talked to my sister today. I hadn't intended to. I just wanted to sound her out about when she was home and when she was not. I wanted to catch her when she was on her own. Regardless of my intent - which I communicated - she ended up buzzing me pretty much there and then. Well ok. And we shared some news. How shit I was. How her lot were doing. And I got around to talking about my nephe

 Time flies. Weeks feel like a day. Navigating between feeling shit at all times and slowly coming up to the surface perhaps, for a few short hours a day, some days, not at all, but just, getting through it. My ass exploded again this week. Despite finding nothing at the start of the year when it started playing up again, my ass has decided that there really is something going on there. It would seem the pattern now is, slow dormancy for 8 months or so, followed by rupture of puss and blood and loveliness. So. Like it always was. Just way wayyyyy slower. I had a thoroughly wet ass for a few days. Sticky clear liquid. Tinged with blood. And a sore ass. It seems to be slowly healing itself again. So eh. For a split second I debated getting in touch with the GP. Then realised how stupid that would be in practice. So I didn't. I'm assuming it just ups and goes away again perhaps after a period of instability. Spoke to my nephew this week. It has been a while. He's not in a good

 Greetings from the bunker. I am up. Awake. Feeling tolerably ok. It is 7pm. I went to bed at something past midnight. I have been asleep for getting on for 18 hours. I fall asleep in the dark. I wake up in the dark. My waking hours are short. The bulk of my days, time, passes in a blur of sleeping oblivion. The exhaustion dogs my heels. And so it feels very much like a bunker. A small amount of time to do shit. Before slamming the lid shut again and letting the world pass. Strange kinda form of living. Eh well. It's been bucketing down with rain today. All day. The sound of the drumming rain has filtered into my sleep. And Athena has turned up, soaked, from having been in the garden. On getting up I have her a dry off. Which she thoroughly likes. Sometimes if I don't dry her quick enough she will come and ask. Sidle up. Paw. Hey. Heyyy. Then turn her butt on me. Ok ok. There are a whole bunch of things I should do. They lie unattended. It doesn't seem important. And I don&

 My good periods are getting shorter. Wackier with their arrival and departure. A malaise on top of the malaise has crept up on me where I just feel off in the periods that I sometimes used to feel better. Like an oasis in the desert that is slowly drying up, where there was once water, there is now mud, and where there was mud, there is now baked dead clay. It's creeping up on me. Slowly. Perhaps it's just a downward slope at the moment. There is I think a human truism in the fact that the more you like a thing, the harder it is to see it go, and the more you dislike a thing, the easier it is to wave goodbye and skip away from it. It's certainly very true for me, and I see it in others as well, so, uncontroversial statement, I think this fairly obvious thing is common. And it only increases in intensity when like is love, and dislike is hate. So far. So obvious. The more complex bit is when it's not a simple clear cut one or the other. When there are multiple things, l

 Exhausted down to my bones. Needed to take Athena out today, so pulled myself into the car, headed over to Hazel's - to drop off her meds - and take a short walk around a park. So hard. I did 50 yards then sat down on the grass in the deepening evening. Then I just laid down. Exhausted. How are you ? Asked Hazel. Exhausted. I said. The CFS is kicking my arse. Or whatever it is. The usual Johnny things then she said. Yeah. I am going to be so pissed if they tell me its MS in a few years. Got back home, every step like a lead weight. I have rested today. Slept a lot. And I feel exhausted. Terrible. Treacle-ified. I have eaten. I have drank. I have got fresh air. Moved a little. Nothing helps. All I can do in the face of monumental exhaustion is just sleep more. I dunno what else to do. Found an interesting article on depression and negative belief tendency today. It takes the already well known phemenon that depressed people tend to see the worst of everything, and digs into it to g

 Despite hitting a somewhat stable patch, it has to be said that whatever is going on with me has got worse. My cruising altitude of "normal" is now really low. Everyday is a struggle to get to barely functional. Bloodshot sunken eyes are the regular every start of day now. And the exhaustion lingers around me. Hum ho. Not entirely unexpected. A slow decline and ramping up of issues was always very possible. In the meantime. I am trying to enjoy the little windows of time I get where I can put aside the shit. It's good to be able to sit down and play a game and get distracted enough I can only feel the game. It's good to be able to sit down in my own home and just watch TV. It's good to be able to when I want get something that tickles my fancy - as rare as that is. I kinda realised that that's probably what I should be doing. Just. Enjoying things where I can. There's no holding out to wait til it gets better. This is it. Just enjoy the bits where I can.

 The days pass in a blur of trying to stay on the right side of upright. It's a constant battle. But I've got into something of a routine with it. Limping along. Some hours of quality time later in the evening. Sleep and garbage the rest of the time. The usual random bullshit of symptoms. I think I am oh so super slowly, regaining a little stability. Certainly better than I was. And I have shifted my sights downwards, so that 10 minutes of a chore for a day is better than 0 minutes of a chore for a day. And I can do that before I collapse. Pacing myself. Even though. It's hilariously shit. 10 minutes. Give me a break. Useless. But not quite zero useless. A teeny tiny positive. Of late, the very small number of people I am talking to, I seem to be doing a fair job of upsetting them. I find I have no patience for bullshit. For the usual human failings of confusing opinion with logic, of writhing around a point rather than admit something, and obstinate inability to learn, but