Bork Slowly Borking

 Predictably, going out for groceries yesterday was a draining excercise. I took my time. Don't rush it. Heh. There's a weird thing, if, sometimes, I *really* take my time about something, I move about like I'm doing some form of yoga, it helps a little. Sometimes I even mutter to myself whilst doing it. Slow down. Take it easy. Move slow and deliberate. Ho hum. Anyway. Doing the shopping was ok. 20 minutes in my bell started to ring. I could feel it. Tapping me on the shoulder. Hey. HEY. You're starting to bottom out. Whatever it is you're doing. Finish. Ok. Ok ok. Let's go. So. I stopped. I had some aisles to go. But. Be mindful. So I finished up got to the car, and yeah, ok, slump. We're ok. But yeah. Got home, put the shopping away, ate the "lunch" I bought at the supermarket. And then slumped into sleep. Of course. But. Really. That's a better segment for me there. Anytime I can shop AND put the shopping away AND not immediately slump is s...

 Feeling just an edge better today. Which. Sigh. In the greater arc of things. I don't know. Is that fortunate ? Lucky ? Snatched back just a tiny bit - once again - from the very edge of oblivion. A lucky roll of the dice ? A spin of the gun in russian roulette to a click, and not a bullet. Eh. Meh. I am very thankful I feel a bit better today. All round. Super far from any kind of good. Or healthy. But enough. Enough of a glimmer of energy and less choppy seas to give a twinkle of hope. I think I have become trained to exist on fumes. Very lean running existence. Yesterday I took all the pills. Just about everything I could lay my hands on. My gut meds. My gout meds. My crazy meds. My daily vitamin. My boosted vitamins targetting my deficiences. I don't have a problem taking meds. So. Of course. Me being me. What I do is pop each in my mouth and hold it. Because. Of course. Efficiency ! You can swallow them all with one drink of water. You end up swallowing a bucketful of gra...

 Struggling. So much. Just to wake up. Just to sit up. I did my bit of work today. And then collapsed into sleep. And slept. For 5 hours. I have eaten. And immediately felt ill. Too stuffed. Bloated. Like every other day. I sleep through it. I am limping through each day. Each subtly harder than the one before. I don't know. I get blips of where I function. If I don't move from my bed. Blips of being able to think. So long as I don't move. I don't know. It is getting hard. To not. It feels like. The only answer. Let it go. Go another day.

 The last couple of days have been difficult. My therapy outing has I think contributed heavily to a CFS slump. I have struggled to be lucid or upright. Work has been very difficult. I barely managed to get anything done yesterday, very hard, and today, I have managed, and completed a few things off my list, but hard. Running a marathon up a hill whilst giving someone a piggy back. I actually paused at a mid point today, acknowledging just how hard it was to put one foot in front of another, cup of tea in hand, wading through a treacle malaise of brain fog, exhaustion, and pain. The most inconsequential thing. Like scaling Everest. A hidden battle. No one sees it. That I have achieved what I did at work today is, I suppose, from one angle, nothing short of incredible. And for parts of it. I had to bring my brain firing on all cylinders. It was so hard to get it even half into position. Foggy. But. I did it. Don't ask me how. Pure fucking stubborness perhaps. A poking sense of duty....

 Therapist yesterday. As it turned out I didn't go in there and express my doubt about the whole thing because I could see that they didn't really want to be there. Instead was just got more into the CFS angle. I explained the background. How it worked. The physical impact. The knock on mental impacts. The difficulty of gauging from moment to moment how much energy you have,  the frustration and hopelessness of having days disappear due to having no choice but to retreat. They understood. Truly. They could see the difficulties and the frustrations. The enormous difficulties. Not some mental side alley, or problem with me facing reality. Just. On the ground. Impossible situation to deal with. They were compassionate about it. Which is. Uncommon. I don't get that response from the NHS. It is. Slightly weird to have someone actually understand, and more than that, then start to try to meet you where you are, rather than you coming to meet them. Metaphysically. Care wise. The N...

Nothing to say. One day stretches to the next, not feeling great, I've had worse, I've had better. My thoughts circle around the end of all things. I don't do it largely because of cowardice and it not being bad enough right at this minute to override that cowardice. Some moments are worse than others. That boundary stretches very thin. And not even where you might think it's obvious. Sometimes in the quiet moments, where I can hear myself think, and my issues shift to a background buzz, a calm, cool, rational voice just floats the idea. What if you did it now ? Rather than wait til it's terrible again ? Wouldn't that be better ? Wouldn't it be better when you're not suffering unbearably, where it's a nice day, and you can just sit. And sigh. And end it. Wouldn't that be better than the pit of some awful hole out of desperation ? Yes. Is the answer. And it hangs there. Tempting. But I don't. For the moment. Each of these steps is no good in a...