Feb 24

 I am exhausted. And permanentally vaguely ill. Off colour. Bleh. Shitty. Malaise. And the fatigue dogs my every step.

Today I forced myself out of bed at 11am to pick up Athenas meds, and then my own. I groaned out of the door feeling sick and exhausted and just desperate for sleep.

Athena, still laden down by multiple injuries and problems, has however had something of her spirit return. On seeing me leave she was having none of it. And pushed past me - limp and all to be first out of the door. I'm going with you ! I am fed up of resting indoors.

Stubborn.

I don't think Athena is going to lie down and let the reaper get her without a fight if she can help it.

I let her hurriedly limp into the front yard then squeezed past her through the front gate. She attempted to bolt and just shove her head in the gate. No she was saying. I am going out too. No. You're not. Rest. Idiot.

I went and got the meds. Filled up the car. Came back home and collapsed back into bed with an apology to Hazel for being so shit. My energy is zero.

I woke up in the afternoon, noodled around a little with a cup of tea. And crashed again. And went back to bed.

Up in the evening. Had something to eat. Played a little on the computer.

And crashed again.

I am so tired I said to Hazel.

Not surprising she said. You've had a really stressful week, and busy work.

On a good week I struggle to recover over several days to get back to work. With lots of other shit hitting the fan, I guess I stand no chance.

Athena is trotting up and down the stairs on her own, which is not exactly advisable, but she's doing it. Because Athena. Where possible we help her up and sometimes carry her downstairs. But sometimes she does her own thing anyway. She wobbles around. Her legs spreadeagle on her at times. Ares had the same problem in his later months. I think their legs lose their strength, slippy floors and their legs just go out from under them.

I'll try a short walk with Athena tomorrow. Not really to help her injured leg. And other dodgy legs. But more just to let her blow off some Athena steam. Have a sniff. See what's up. A tiny bit of outdoors excercise will probably be good for her, as long as we don't overdo it. A walk down the street and back will probably suffice.

As should come as no surprise, in the quiet moments, now that most absolutely hair on fire things are settled for the moment, I find I am struggling mentally. Struggling with Athenas condition, and if not her immediate demise, then her not too far off one. We are on a timer without doubt, her condition gets worse even when we have it under control. And it's clear its reaching the point where it can so quickly just spin out of control. It is. Unfortunately. To be expected. I am struggling with my own health. The waiting. The lingering. Getting worse. I am struggling to deal with everything else. The house. Living. Maintenance. Paperwork. I am so tired. There are no ups really. So. I am finding it hard. I wobbled this morning. Did not want the day to start. I actually woke up at 7am. Tired. Didn't want to see the day. Just wanted oblivion of sleep. Leave me alone. Please. So I turned back over and slept with thoughts of just being buried deep under the ocean. Leaving everything behind.

It's my brains way of constantly echoing for an end. Stop. No more. Variations of oblivion.

Eh well. Life. Fuck me.

I think at this point in my life it would take prodigious amounts of peace and nice things and lovely experiences to turn the Titanic around. At some point the trauma just gets baked in. And let's be real. Nice things are not going to happen anyway. I would truly need to live a charmed spoiled life to start to repair the damage.

In other minor news, I see they are arguing about CFS / ME again. About whether excercise and mentalry actually helps. Formerly they said it did. Then they changed their minds and said it was a terrible idea and made it worse. Now they are arguing if that's right. There seems to be two camps at war with each other about what to do about it.

All I can say is. Swimming seems to make me feel better - so perhaps a tick in the box of excercise helps. But also. The boom and bust thing is super real. Doing a little too much - which you can't judge, can wipe you out for days. So that's true too. Perhaps both things are true. Context.

I suppose they'll come out with another sweeping round of confident bullshit about it all at some point. Failing to find the causes at work, and instead, just targeting the symptoms, which, is always going to be a case of chasing shadows.