May 27

 The pains have crept back a little - not to the horrible extent they were, but still. Today both my thighs are squealing from having been slept on. Just. Slept on. A thing they do day after day without complaint. But today. Some mystical hocus pocus is off with my clusterfuck of a body, and now they are bruised. Whilst in bed.

Eyes are stinging and punchy. But. Dead hands have got a shade better. Only one went dead last night, and then, not for long.

This is my reality. Ever shifting sands.

I will keep my diet going for a while, I have a suspicion it is helping. I am trying to think if I ate anything in the last few days that could have been a spike in inflammation. Perhaps, for the umpteenth time of pondering, some specific food allergy ? Or maybe not.

Last night my mood tanked. Again. Everything else aside, my thoughts floated around Athena. And it made me sad. And brought me back to that sobering realisation that I have nothing in my life. Forget grief. Forget the pains. The illness. All things being equal. I still don't want to be around. I don't like the world or how it works or my place in it. I have seen plenty of stuff and experienced shit and come to the conclusion that for the most part it's awful. So. Yeah. I have some severe existential problems. But the rest of it is also true. The loss and the pains. Which just makes it even worse. Uh huh.

Anyway. Another day. Another potential opportunity to scrape my way through it, or, if I'm really lucky, something else to go wrong or break. Yay.

I should try and go for a swim today. It will likely hurt, but, probably in a better way that my otherwise shitty hurts. I am not sure I can entirely be bothered though. That nihilistic hopelessness looks on it as pointless. Rearranging daisies on a grave. I dunno. We shall see. Ah. Shit. Maybe not. Bank holiday today. The place will be overrun by kids. Hard pass.

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