Feb 11

 Had trouble staying out of bed over the weekend. Do a little. Collapse. Bad. Today I told myself I would have a better day. Be able to do stuff. The problem is, that's me telling myself that, and my health doesn't pay any attention to my wishes. Which. Of course it works like that. If it didn't, no one would get seriously ill.

Along with the dumpster fire disaster all alarm lights flashing that I am on waking these days, today I also had my right arm cold and numb when I woke up. Couldn't feel my hand. Rolled over. A similar thing happened to the left arm, not so cold. Rolled onto my back. My left hand stayed tingly. Feet solid lumps of ice. My circulation is fucked. And I can't blame my mental meds for this either. As I am still off them at the moment. So this. Is just pure me. No meds.

So today I got up very gloomy. Feeling ill. Sorry for myself. Right arm cold and numb I asked google, heart failure ? Yes. 

My anxiety and being miserable about being ill toyed with me. I tried to ignore it. Just. Let it go. Maybe it is heart failure. Maybe it probably is. Maybe it isn't. Does it matter if it was anyway ? You're not enjoying yourself. No. Wouldn't matter.

Maybe you just slept on it funny ?

On both sides ? On neither side ? Same result ? That's not sleeping on it funny...

Well maybe it was just a weird day. Shit happens.

Uh huh. Add it all up. It's telling you something !

The debate fairies argued.

Nevertheless. Rationality aside. It's no way to live. I spent half the day with a mood of hopelessness over me, well aware that I was at this point suffering from semi rabid health anxiety and going slightly bonkers with it. The rat in a trap. I reflected this wasn't exactly an unexpected response. When you're ill all the time. It's hard to deal with it, and not just from the physical side. And yeah. I'm getting twitchy at the very least.

Much later. I revisited the topic. Could it be sleep apnea instead ? Yes. Sleep apnea also has similar signs to congestive heart failure. And the two overlap. Excitingly one can lead to the other. Sigh. I also read an interesting stat on life expectancy with sleep apnea. It's shit. Not sure if I believe it. It sounds bullshit. But yeah. No bueno. But then I knew sleep apnea was serious business.

Googling symptoms is always a double edged sword of shittiness. As the joke goes. Having just had a cough, after googling it, I have discovered I will be dead in 5 days.

Heh.

Aside from going slightly mental with it.

I do think I have many issues going on, and one of them has always been that bug about shitty circulation. Something got fucked "a little" I think when I was ill. Not quite enough to kill me there and then - but close. And now it limps on. Sputtering. Like a lot of the rest of me. Sputtering. Sometimes the wind blows in the right direction and it feels a little better. And sometimes it doesn't.

Also Occam's razor. As we get older shit starts failing. It makes perfect sense that not one thing but many things are wrong with me - it's a sign of mileage. Albeit my mileage has been massively exacerbated by - probably - a nasty run in with a carpet bombing virus. But. Take the viral out of it. And it's probably par for the course that as you get older, yes your circulation isn't what it used to be, yes that hurts like a fucker, and this doesn't work, and your asthma gets worse and put them altogether and you can have a bad day.

I think that's probably me. A bunch of problems. But some of them are dialled up to 11. And somewhere in there is also some pretty fucky damage that's been done to one or multiple systems. The carpet bombing. Heart, digestion and neuro would be my guess. So sayeth the continual squeal in my left ear and my iffy left side of face that manifested in my Quarter Of Near Death.

Dealing with all this shit in your head long term is hard. A battle of unending attrition that you can never win. Just do well to hold your ground. Am I also going nuts with it ? I'd be surprised if I wasn't.

Eh well.

So today I retreated to play games. Even more miserable than usual. But playing games is a hard ask in and of itself. I get tired playing games. Feel ill. Achey. I kinda just wanted to be on my own today. I told Hazel I was just going to play games when I crossed her path in the kitchen in the afternoon and left it at that. I was just giving her a heads up I will not be talking to you much today if at all. I was even more subdued and quiet today.

Perhaps because of that for the first time in... I can't even remember when - months. She did the washing up. And later, actually cooked dinner. It has literally been years since she has cooked dinner for me. I can count on one hand the number of times she has cooked dinner for me in a span of what must be nearly 10 years now. Literally. It's less than 5 times. I can list most of them.

In any case. It was nice she cooked dinner.

But as it was earlier in the day, I broke from my hermitage to get something small to eat. I did not have the energy or wellness to cook. But I needed a little something to eat. Otherwise I'd probably make myself worse. As I threw a chicken burger in the ninja, of course Hazel then piggy backed on my effort. Could I do her one. With this. And that. Sure. I can do that. It was fine. I don't mind.

I thought on it later. Perhaps the test is the opposite case. If I was in her shoes. And she in mine. You best believe I would not make someone ill cook for me. I'd be doing it all. I am not saying I begrudge it. Or it's shit. Or even expect her to look after me. At all. But there is very definitely a different bar of acceptability there. Hazel is not a helper. Or a carer. Not even a poor pass at one. She just doesn't do that, period. And, borderline personality or no, she has crafted procrastination into an art form. It is I think on reflection part of the rut she's in. No goals. No hobbies. No job. A dysfunctional malaise and depression and all sorts formed pattern solidified into a permanent state of life.

Her procrastination about going to her place to pick up mail has at this point also become an art form. Every day there is a new excuse. Which she will adamantly believe in and defend. I wont get into the exact daily blow by blow. But. Yesterdays - on the prospect of going to pick it up on Sunday if I felt well enough was "its Sunday no mail comes on Sunday so it doesn't matter".  As if six weeks of mail already sitting on the mat would only phase into existence all at once on a work day. Sundays don't count. Possible demands for bills, attendance at mandatory benefits meetings don't count on Sundays. Even if they turned up three weeks ago and had now expired. Sunday. Doesn't count.

?

You can see how nuts that is. I told her her logic was flawed. She denied it was flawed. I spelled it out. She couldn't deny it.

But. Like a lot of stuff in the world. Logic isn't always the answer. Ask a MAGA hat. Belief vs Logic. Ask a fundamental christian. Logic, does not figure large in their world or arguments.

I can already foresee that if a problem does arise, she'll probably blame me for it. For having "had to stay with me". Utterly untrue. But makes a good narrative - and this is the borderline bit of her brain, always rejigging reality so no blame comes her way. Trauma response. Defend, defend, defend. Lies and reality warping are absolutely fine, so long as no blame lands. Absolute lack of responsibility ( because traumatically, the consequences were dire, hence, to avoid pain means you need to avoid taking responsibility ). This is also the sticky situation she got in with her dad. Awaiting an apology. Completely ignoring any horrible things she also did that might, perhaps, warrant an apology herself. ( Don't take responsibility, blame others ).

I get the sense with Hazel she doesn't want to go back to her life at the moment. Her new flat. However. Even that being said. I am not throwing her out. Just trying to counsel her into picking up her mail at the very least - important shit tends to lurk in her mail. Angry letters full of consequences ( as evidenced in her mail for December ). Perhaps that's part of the issue. Sticking her head in the sand. Still in holiday mode, as she has been since the start of December. It's also probably a manifestation of the rocky emotional road she's had in the last couple of months with both of her remaining major relationships being set on fire at the same time and being very wobbly in her sense of self and support.

Hazel is a challenge for sure. Even if the absolute trauma monster isn't manifesting and destroying everyone on sight, the rest of the baggage of life style et al can smother you if you're not careful.

As I have noted many times before, she is way above my paygrade to sort out. Or I believe, any single persons paygrade - no matter how fancy they are. She needs more than one person of a professional stature.

So are the pro's and con's of having her stay - never an easy thing. On the one hand I am grateful she's about to lend a hand with Athena now and then. On the other hand, no matter what state I'm in, I generally have to look after her in some way or another and try to navigate her olympic level procrastination. Honestly the best way to navigate it is to make plans for yourself by yourself. And leave it at that. Don't give her the option of a joint plan - because she will inevitably sabotage it in one way or another, typically either with procrastination, or, extending it in manic form - and epic piss taking liberties - until it dies.

Tomorrow, Monday, I have agreed to take a walk with a friend and the mutts. I run a high risk of flaking out on this due to feeling shit, but, I want to do it. We'll see if I can manage it.

I broke the news to Hazel in the kitchen - our oft place of paths crossing each other. I am going for a walk with friend tomorrow, taking the mutts out.

Am I invited she says ?

No. Not really.

I hadn't really intended for her to be on the walk with us. Just a walk with my friend. Not Hazel. She hadn't even come up in the conversation. Not that I was consciously shutting her out, but I was making plans for me, and me alone, to see my friend ( see above ! ). I didn't want the added absolute circus of Hazel getting ready for a walk either. The faff. The delay. The anxiety. ( procrastination sabotage where she would start late, make us later, and then probably end up as arriving horribly late and then you being in an awkward position with someone else - your social contract has been broken. She has put me in difficult spots with others many times, and in extreme cases, has had meltdowns to sabotage plans. Extremely shit. And very difficult to deal with ). 

And then her tagging along and being a fifth wheel - there were some personal discussions that would come up with my friend that Hazel is definitely not in the private circle with. They're my friend. Not hers. Laundry. And that kind of shit. It was also earlier in the day - typically when she's not even awake. So yeah. No. Not invited.

She pushed.

How about I just come and walk away from you.

My boundaries are shit. By default without thinking I said yeah, I suppose so.

It wasn't until after the conversation I realised I had said no, she had said "yes but", and I had then agreed. To something I didn't actually want to happen. My stupid fucking fault. I should have repeated my no. Not mean. Just no.

Ho hum. The slightly irritating thing is that Hazel has had all day today to take the mutts out or do something. But hasn't. No plans. No signs of any plans. She had no plans for tomorrow either. Until I opened my mouth. In fact this has been true of almost every week. She wont do shit unless I do it first ( in fact this pattern is a repeat of earlier in the week when on having finished work, I took the dogs out, only to have Hazel immediately jump on the band wagon... and proceed to go through the faffery... sigh ). She can also find excuses and hurdles to put in the way of either me or her doing something.

Sigh.

This is the procrastination swamp monster I have to battle with.

No doubt I am in a somewhat irritable mood for me. I am finding fault with many people at the moment. Thin patience perhaps.

Don't get me wrong about Hazel. I do, on the whole, enjoy her noodling around the place. It is, if nothing else, helpful for my soul. No matter what her flaws. We are all flawed. I grant you, some more than others. There is a small comfort I take from someone being in the house. Although these days with both me and Athena being on the Waiting List, I am far less worried about carking it and leaving Athena on her own. I suspect we maybe on a similar timescale at worst. And at best I will outlive her at this rate. Probably.

In any case, ironically for me, as confident as I can be, as knowledgeable and forthright and blah. I actually have the tiniest quietest voice when it comes to me and boundaries. I also sabotage myself by then laughing my own boundaries off or eagerly hand waving them away. It's not something you'd expect of someone like me I think. I know it's a problem. It's something I try to do better at. Slow progress. Also. Being ill tends to fill most of my quota for any given day anyway rather than high floofy goals of "having better boundaries".

End optimism for health issues.

Look on the bright side.

I might have bad sleep apnea - it's possible. Get diagnosed. Get treatment. Get a whole lot better all round - also possible. And get to be a regularly iffy unhealthy 50 something year old. Which will be a massive step up. Yay.