Bork Slowly Borking

 Today has not been a good day. I woke up with super anxiety. A scrunched up wincing pain in my stomach. The pain you get when you are very upset. That woke me up. It.. kinda.. makes sense. When you wake up you get a cortisol kick to wake you up. Which also has a side effect of raising stress. So if you're already anxious, stressed etc, it kicks it into overdrive. Uh huh. Today was sketchy. Anxiety. Jumpy. On a knifes edge. Exhausted. I did my best to just noodle around today, and, I managed to do that without triggering anything else. But it's a very shit way to exist. Permanent high anxiety. Misery. And my mind is flirting with going crazy. On the edge. Dancing. Where your thoughts spin out. Every stimuli is weird. I can suddenly feel my thumb clenching. I can't relate to anything. Disassociating. Everyone else feels like a story. Life is weird. Observing it for 10 feet above. Turning over how horrible it is. Oof. Today was also about competing tortures. Athena was back o

 Ok. So. Yesterday was horrible. I skated dangerously around and in, and out and in of full on mental. I was having panic blips in the kitchen. Holy fucking shit. As it turns out, whether I liked it or not, I have developed a major fucking aversion to the CPAP machine in very short order. And. Most of yesterday I sat around in some form of really fucky state, at times panicky. Yikes. This has entirely blind sided me. How fast and how hard my mental state has slipped out of my hands, and how much of a shit and - surprise - panicky reaction I had to the thing. At this point I think I'd rather set the thing on fire and kick it out the window than ever touch it again. And it's not a rational thing. It's an animal thing. Can't breathe. Machine bad. Fuck machine. I said to my brother later in the day. I think I'd rather not breathe. Than put it on and feel like I'm drowning. I'd rather suffer a shit descent into apnea related health issues than do the CPAP. Hmm. I

 Today I feel absolutely awful. My sleep has been wrecked by the CPAP. After getting a few hours sleep and my nose clearing up - I would guess it stayed blocked up for around 4 hours or so - I gave the CPAP another go. This time it was even worse. Breathing out against it was hard - felt like I was suffocating. Not good. After two minutes of using it I couldn't do it. My breathing was getting faster and worse. I started getting panic blips where I can't breathe properly. Oh boy. Ok. Now the unforeseen knock on effects. My mood has gone through the floor. My anxiety has gone through the ceiling. I am now struggling to keep a lid on it and not go fully nuts. I am sketchy. I would guess this is a few things. 1. I feel even worse. My mood has gone down because of how shit I feel. 2. I got very little sleep and am tired as all hell. Which means my mood is wobbly. 3. Far from being a thing that might help, so far the CPAP is a thing that is just adding to the problems. I did not expe

 So. I've tried the CPAP. After I hooked it up to the main unit it very quickly became clear the mask was just fine. Not leaking. And after a few small adjustments and getting used to it, it seemed ok. So. I gave it a go. A few blips. Breathing out is hard against it. Far from making my breathing easier, it seemed to make my breathing harder. Ok. Well. I guess I just have to get used to it. But it seemed alright. Not as bad as I had thought. This is ok. It was gonna make me breathe easier. And slowly. The weirdness trickled in. It started to feel like I was french kissing a vacuum cleaner in reverse. Cheeks subtly puffed out. Inflated.Mouth drying out.  I don't know. Maybe I'm super sensitive or something. But it felt pretty janky. I can see what it's trying to do. But it felt inelegant. A sledgehammer to crack a nut. But. Ok. Keep on going. It's going to be weird at first until you get properly used to it. As time went on, I shifted from sleepy, to less sleepy, to

 A reminder note. Anticipating the usual post eating slump, today I prepped the blood sugar testing gear. Made sure it was correctly setup and freshly initialised on sample. Exhaustion kicked in hardcore after an hour. Blood sugar tested at 6.5 mmol/L 1 hour after eating. Tested at 5.5 mmol/L 3 hours after eating. Absolutely bang on the nose normal. The exhaustion et al is not a blood sugar problem. I will do some daily tests for a while pre and post eating. I will take some bp readings as well. I will take these results to the GP to rule out the usual first responses.

 I've been getting some very hardcore dips in the last few days whenever I eat something during the day. This is not exactly new territory. I frequently get this, sometimes, with absolutely awful results ( ie that Sunday lunch with the most horrible and weird waves of heat ). I am not clear what it is. But this is part of the whole, Hey Something Is Fucked With My Gastro Since December 2020. I've been crashing out hard and feeling suddenly tired and awful with my eyes bruising up nicely. Uh huh. I've been eating smaller and smaller amounts, but it seems, the problem is triggering on smaller and smaller amounts too. So. Uh huh. Pretty sure it isn't a blood sugar thing, though I haven't tested my blood sugars in forever. I can eat something like an apple - no problem. I can even eat something like a cheeky Kit Kat - no problem. I eat lunch. And boom.  Ho hum. Weirdly, it has less of an impact the later I eat. Ish. Ho hum. Docs appointment in 5 or so weeks. I will br

 Invalidation. Sometimes this gets passed around as one of the on trend, pop psych buzz words used from everything from a genuine problem, to someone just not getting their own way with a tantrum. As is the way with pop psych buzz words. But. This has come up a few times over the last couple of weeks. Invalidation of how you feel, your emotions. Lack of support. The perpetual glossing over and minimising of issues for, at best, a misplaced attempt at making someone feel better. I commented recently in the blog about the fact that any sentence that started with "At least it's not..." was never useful. A friend of mine who is going through numerous serious problems all at once had complaints about her spouse and his continual waving away of how she felt. The upshot being. She would demonstrate anxiety. Fear. And he would tell her she was stupid. Over reacting. Go away. Leave him alone. Poster child of invalidation right there. How you feel is how you feel. It doesn't me

 Saw this today. Someones comment on the passing of someone elses dog. "It’s a terrible privilege to love them to the end. I am sorry for your loss. The pain, for me, never really went away, it just got quiet. I can still feel that grief when the world is quiet." Oof.

 Swimming yesterday. Hard. I ached in various places. It was harder than it usually was. Not exactly pleasant. It could just be some flarey pain symptoms. I didn't take my asthma pump, which, I suspect, actually makes a big difference. I was very tentative coming out of the pool. Iffy foot. Dodgy knee. Pains. Uh huh. The ladder out becomes non trivial. It was ok. I felt better afterwards. But came home and collapsed hardcore. Exhausted. Uh huh. Figures. I resented having to sleep yesterday, but I had to. Frustrating. I spent most of the day in a low level malaise. Lonely. Sad. My symptoms were bubbling at a low to mid level. Not enough to be seriously detrimental. Enough to cause discomfort, unease, and a clear sense of Not Being Right. At one point I touched being properly depressed, that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach, the weight that settles, that can't get out of it tar pit, the loss of control. But it was brief. I scraped along it for 10 minutes. Oh no. Then

 Same shit. Different order. Scrambled variables. I wenr swimming again on Friday. And then. Hit up the coast in the early evening with Hazel. After some thought, walking up sandy dunes was probably not a great idea with my dodgy foot. But. I went anyway. Fuck it.   The beach was lovely. And Poppy was lovely. How I miss a dog. Jesus. And Poppy loves me. Embarassingly so. She gravitates to me and ignores Hazel. I speak good dog. I am gentle where Hazel is scolding. I oh so gently told Hazel she didn't need to shout at Poppy. She was ok. Just being a dog. It's ok. It was a nice evening. Hazel became a little aggravated on the way home. No good reason why. Just. A little snarly as she sometimes gets. And sometimes gets worse. I think it would have got worse. But by the time it could develop any further we were home. I wont get into it. But she was difficult. She has in the end decided to ignore her dad. I don't even think she's said no to him outright in response to him as

 Worked through the morning for much longer than I wanted to.  Released went ahead but only after half a dozen serious problems were fixed mid release by myself. This constitutes yet another serious failure to basically get anything done. Andy was not happy I was working on my day off. This is the second time that the PM has seriously taken the piss - and unless Andy is telling lies - it's not Andy that is pushing for this. The PM needs some serious fucking steering to basically not be a prick and ride roughshod over what should be basic rights and courtesy. This is slightly surprising in someone who has a lot of professional experience, but then again, probably has little experience in actually properly managing something in regards to people. It blows my mind just how shit people can be at jobs. I am never at a loss for examples of cock ups and general douche baggery. Ho hum. Meeting next week to address a whole bunch of shit, one of which will be, kicking the PM into line. I ha

 Yesterday was a busy work day. And my mood was pretty shit. It has been for a number of days. Gravitating down. Sometimes a little up. Mostly down. I wander around stuck in the same loops. I am ok for a while in the house on my own. And then the existential dread settles. The house is too big. Too empty. A tomb. The last few days and nights, Athena has haunted me. Perhaps I am processing more of it as the days pass, letting that valve open more. I miss her more than I can put into words. Sometimes I think oh, I need someone in the house with me. Oh, I need a dog in the house with me. Or something. And it's kind of true. But then I think on it. And it settles. And at the end of the day, all it really comes down to is that I miss Ares. I miss Athena. And I wish I could turn back time and have them back again. That's what I truly miss. I guess I am just terrible at moving on. At accepting loss. At adapting to sudden change. I can accept new things. I find it hard to let go. But.

Symptoms have flared. Yay. No bread. Just flares. Pains all over. That lull of symptoms was short lived. Whatever. Today perhaps Athena also caught up with me. I woke up missing her. Patches in the day where I really missed her. I smelled her bedding. Still smells of her. Probably a mistake. I screamed in the kitchen. All I can say is. It was like a popping of a cork. Having to hold everything in check. Having to try. Having to fight. Having to not be sad. Pretend not to feel ill. Or awful. Or hopeless. The scream was all of that. And grief. And then I cried. As you do. It doesn't change anything. Things are still are as they are. No one is going to save me. I sat on the loo and contemplated suicide. Right there. In the bath tub. Athena's ball still in the bathroom. Worn and scarred from her relentless pursuit. Now still and silent. Just lie in the tub. And slit your wrists. Oh some might say. We thought he was doing better. How surprising. Calm. Cool. I hate it. I hate life. I

 Right foot is on then off then on then off with the squealing. It tends to flare up overnight, and in particular if the previous day I was on my feet more. It does seem to be heading in the right direction though. My symptoms have calmed again. Less pains. Less everything. Not gone. But dialled down. I have more energy than I have had in quite a while - a reflection of the symptoms retreating. Behind it all there still lurks that hole. Still just peddling with no bicycle if that makes sense. I live from one day to the next. No plan. No nothing. Not confronting all the stuff that is missing. Perhaps overtime this will just be my new normal. And all the loss and everything else will fade. Sometimes I dip into it. I open the door briefly. I get a flood of memories from all times. All the things I have experienced and seen. Particularly in this house. All the promise and life. All now just an element of history. The present is barren. It is weird. And awful. But. I don't dwell for ver

 After a shitty start with my foot in the morning, curiously by afternoon it had improved significantly to the point of tentatively discarding crutches again. It was very sore in the morning, and I presumed it would just get worse at that point until it was excruciating to even touch, but, somehow it seems to have got better. The healing rate over the four bloody repeat performances does seem to have increased with each subsequent fail, but this one of just a few days takes the cake. Eh well. Long may it continue. Today I took Hazel home in reasonably good spirits. My foot was working again. I was keeping all the dark things at bay. And it was nice to have company around the house. Poppy practically never left my side, often bugging me for attention, dinner, or otherwise. It was nice. The house has fallen too quiet again in the aftermath. I catch myself looking up to see where Athena is, knowing full well she isn't there anymore, just like I am sticking a finger in that wound to t