Bork Slowly Borking

 Busy at work. Pushing hard. And I feel awful. Today a deep exhaustion has sat on me. An exhaustion that sits in your bones. That's the best description of it. Every part of you feels tired. Not achey. But. Achey. It isn't an ache. But. It's something. And it's deep. It's hard to explain. It is at this point very familiar to me. I am never without it. It waxes and wanes in its strength, but it never goes. Always some level of exhaustion. When it's biting less hard you can ignore it for a short period of time. Like holding your breath you can do something for a while - until inevitably you run out of breath and the consequences hit. Then there are times like today. When it bites so hard. That it chases you into bed. Where you feel ill. It pushes you into sleep. No matter how much sleep you have had. And the sleep goes deep. Each waking from that sleep feels utterly terrible. It's literally an agony to wake up, every bit of you squeals that something is not ri...

 Work was misery last week. Pushing hard to get something done, which I absolutely should not be doing, and yet another case of our problematic dev having a bit of a pout. I'm not going to get into it really. It's kind of shit. Our problem dev is still a problem. I did talk to Andy about it. He weighed in with his own problems with him. And the upshot is that yes, he's a problem, if we rectify it, he's probably going to leave. And we'd lose someone who's doing a good job in other places. And a massive pain in the arse in others. Andy admitted he was at fault for it. But. Contributing circumstances. Andy is talking to him this week. Not sure how that will go. Andy will not and cannot check people. He placates. We shall see. This week at therapy there were several things to pick over. I gave the shrink a choice. They immediately gave it back to me. Of course. I didn't really mean to fix on it this week, but we picked up a conversation with my sister and my fam...

 Bad night. Twitches were on high. Legs were jumpy, the restless leg syndrome kicking in. But the other spasms and twitches were doing a number too. This is part of my smorgasbord of bullshit. I now twitch. Sometimes in my sleep - pulling me out of it. Last night I managed to have some kind of throat twitch - which is new. Woke me up entirely. I tried to work out exactly what I had done. But. Sometimes it's impossible to replicate the twitch. A sure sign if you needed one that this wasn't a conscious control thing. Rats gnawing on the wires perhaps. Therapy day today. I went to it possibly the lowest I have been. But not tearful. Just. Bottomed out. Still swirling around the reality of suicide. After 40 minutes with the shrink, the shrink paused and a silence grew. So. The shrink said and paused again. How worried should I be about you ? Not worried at all I said and smiled. The shrink just looked at me. I'll be fine I said. I am ok. No smile this time. A grimace. You don...

 I have evened out a little today. Carefully taking my meds. Careful all round. Such care doesn't amount to shit if the wind decides to blow. But for today. It is a little easier. Just enough. Albeit I have slept long. Very long. But it has given me space to breathe. I wonder if the stress and then Andys follow up bullshit this week have had a hand in unbalancing me more. It wasn't only Andy. The PM was trying to entice me to do more work on my day off. It doesn't matter what you do. How helpful you are. They will always want more. Squeeze. Today I have made a soffrito. My first ever proper soffrito. Despite having cooked a wide range of italian dishes for a few decades at this point, weirdly, I have never made a proper soffrito. Probably because I almost never pay any heed to recipes or the correct way of doing things. That I had enough energy and oomph to cook a little is remarkable. I tried out my new mini food processor. I am loathe to buy new things. Even when I think ...

Prior to this once again kicking the tyres of another bit of fragile architecting/process that has apps failing. This was the second example of a flakey - mainstream - suite of software that was unreliable. This time. Google. And Microsoft. Who you'd think would know better. Ho. Ho. This is also one of my sweet spots that I have honed to a fine edge to the extent I even have a simple term for it. Complexity management. Which I think should underpin almost  all  IT stuffs. As the first principle. The only exceptions are in very niche areas where you have to have complexity - assembly code in embedded chips or those with very limited capabilities ( old school ) or require phenomenal efficiency ( rare ! ). Ignore references to LLIL. This is a hypothetical interface language ( the IL in LLIL ! ) we have noodled over a little. For AIs. It doesn't exist except within the confines of our noodling. Uh huh.  at this point in my career I have spent more than 4 decades in IT coding ...

 Bad. I can feel myself wrestling with suicide in a slap down fight in the mud. My ill health swirls, my sadness keeps rising up and overwhelming me, and it makes the suicide impossible to ignore. Even in moments of clarity. Oh. This isn't good. You really should just tap out. There was a slippery moment yesterday. When it all went still and suddenly there was suicide. Right there. So easy. It was a bare metal moment. Nothing else there. Right on the edge of that abyss. Are you going to alive in the next 5 minutes or not. I can't really describe it. It felt like an ending that had already been picked for me. It was. Weird. I skittered away from it after a few minutes of pause. It was very sketchy. I have bounced in and out close to that over the last 24 hours. Sometimes it fades away into a background hum. Other times its right there. Right in front of me. Inevitable. Everything. Screaming at me to do it. Because. Everything else. Sucks so hard. You don't feel well. You...

 Riding along the bottom. Everyday I imagine an end to it all. I have been here before. And I know it's not good. "Not good". I'm not even sure what I mean by that. It's not good in some traditional happy clappy life is a peach point of view. From a much darker more real point of view, it just is. It's a consequence. To a given reality. If things are very dark it starts to make perfect sense why anyone would want to end that. And some notion of it not being good or any such rationalising starts to border on desperation of zealous ideology, that life, must surely, always be right. The hypocrisy of that view point is self evident. We can discuss things like euthanasia. We  easily  talk about such things when it isn't a human. The double standard bullshit is peak human condition. We are such a fucky immature lifeform. Clearly. I am not in the most charitable of moods. Not that any of that is wrong. Just. Brutally on point I think. A very sober lens through wh...

 eh meh, I am not a huge fan of the MVC pattern, this pattern where business logic is in a service, data access is in the DAL leaves me with the feeling that the controller ends up being so much boilerplate just connecting one interface with another without adding much value in an of itself That’s a sharp and valid critique—and one that many seasoned developers share. The classic MVC + service + DAL stack can feel like architectural ceremony : layers of indirection that sometimes obscure rather than clarify intent. When the controller becomes a glorified pass-through, it begs the question: what value is it really adding? 🧠 Why This Happens Over-separation : When each layer is strictly siloed, the controller often just delegates to a service, which delegates to a repository, which wraps a DbContext… and none of them do much individually. Boilerplate inflation : You end up writing interfaces, DI registrations, DTOs, and mapping logic for even trivial operations. Loss of semantic ...

 Exhausted. I had a bit of energy yesterday to play some games, did too much, exhausted out. Today I am having trouble just getting out of bed. Stomach is off again with the same old shit. It never really goes away, it just simmers down a bit, and then rises back to a bad constantly nauseous kind of place again. Tired of it all. I find myself not being able to stay out of bed for very long. I  have  to sleep. Even if it's just an hour. It resets something. And I get a little bit of energy. More often than not it burns out in 20 minutes. And leaves me back to square one, either having to slog through exhaustion, or just return to sleep. I wish it would end, one way or the other. The purgatory inbetween is utter shit. I have to confess. Every night. I think about that knife. Slicing open my arm. Despite me knowing better, it gives me a tiny bit of comfort before I sleep. Just. Finish it. Do it. No more exhaustion. I think about the practical hurdles. Stupid stuff. How easy ...

 Brother visited before therapy on Monday. I was up relatively early. Before Monday morning my anxiety skittered out and thought oh I am going to be fine, they will visit and say, oh there's nothing wrong with you ! On the one hand. That amount of energy would be good. On the other hand. Someone would mistake my masking for being well. Uh huh. Monday morning was like molasses poured into an exhausted bucket. And the perspective shifted entirely. Oh.  Oh . I am going to be lucky to just get myself fucking washed and dressed. Let alone anything else. I am going to be lucky to make it downstairs and stay upright on the sofa. I quickly ditched any idea of a bit of washing up. Or a quick tidy up. Oh no. No no no. Just not feeling like absolute garbage was going to be all I could manage. Slowly I made myself at least presentable. I went to sit on the sofa. And I couldn't maintain. They were due. I couldn't do it. I gave up and lay down instead. Closed my eyes. Awful. Sometime lat...

 Improved mentals today, albeit sketchy and jumpy. One should be happy about small mercies I suppose. Today I have pathetically engaged in a few small tasks. Made some mash potatoes. Cleaned a few things. Tidied up a few things. A quick blast with the hoover. It is. Without doubt. Absolutely pathetic. On the one hand I tell myself that today is a better day than I've managed to do in months. And for that. I should look on the bright side. On the other hand. I am low key horrified at how little I can do. I am becoming trapped in the amber of where I am, if that makes any sense. Normal is not being able to do shit. Anxiety. Living a very small life. And it is becoming that normal. It's no longer a state I am enduring waiting to return to a more capable me. It's now the other way around. I find it hard to deal with mentally. It's like I have become 80 years old in the space of a few years. Part of me just wants to sink into the earth. Just. Stop. Let it wash over me. It is...

 Storm is upon us. High winds. I like storms. Always have. It says a lot about me. It also says a lot about me that hasn't changed, something fairly deep, something at my core. There's something primal about storms. I think. I like the way that most people tend to run away or hide from storms. It. Clears the air. It seems I have always preferred spaces where people leave. And when a storm comes. Most people tend to leave. Or take cover. Or are subdued. Who they are dials down. Weirdly. It gives me space to breathe. Storms make sense to me. They aren't full of rules or bullshit. Not classes to attend. Timetables. Not fucking bills to pay. Responsibilities. They just are. And they have the capability to reshape the world around them. And if no ones looking. I used to sometimes go out in storms and just stand there and absorb them. They would energise me. Electric. Would make all the hairs stand up on end and a tingle go up my spine.  That probably sounds kind of nuts. I don...