Dec 9 Evening

 It is now 7.40pm. I crashed hard again after trying to wake up. Very bad. Really. Bad. I did everything right. I still crashed. Worst I have been. This vaguely reminds me of when I was really ill back in december 2020. Except. Here. It is cycling up and down. It comes in waves.

After writing the last journal, I deteriorated hard, felt super unwell, naseuous, weakness that progressed to "deadness", and, this old chestnut, left side of face was crawling. Also. I was noping out. Stopped thinking. Stopped everything. Just. Breathing and misery. It's an odd state. Unfortunately I've been there many times. You just. Dwindle. And the deadness. A super deep immobile state. Like. All your limbs have gone to sleep. I don't mean pins and needles. I mean. They feel asleep. Zero inclination to move at all. Just. Freeze. And very heavy.

I went back to sleep. Eventually. It was not good. At some point I rolled over and curled into a ball and vague thoughts went through my head of this being finally it. Suffering. But relief it might be all over soon. Just. Let me go. But mostly. I wasn't thinking. As time wore on I was on the edge of sleep. Dozing I think. I felt terribly ill. I kept having fever like dreams. Odd stuff. I can't really pin any of them down. I was disorientated at one point, wasn't sure of the day or the time, and that I had to do something. Attend therapy. Where was I. But. It faded. Other fever dreams. I know I saw my mutts. Confused. How are they here. I know I saw my ex. But I don't recall.

Today has been absolutely brutal.

I am regaining stability. The cycle is coming up. Finally. 

I am feeling bruised and battered.

My week of things to do this week seems hilariously misplaced. This last month or so since surgery has been steadily increasingly bad. Again. I don't know if that's coincidence, or the "trauma" of surgery. I don't perceive any injury from the surgery. But I know full well it doesn't work like that. The body perceives it very differently.

I am giving it 30 minutes or so to stabilise as of this moment. Then go gentle. So. I am reclining. Writing this.

There is a big old mental debt being accrued here. I can feel most of my thinking is Not Happy About This. I am in emergency mode at the moment. But not right at this minute in crisis meltdown. If I get a bit of breathing space, I suspect that mental debt is going to demand to be paid. And I am going to crash mentally. Because. It's a lot. And I am struggling to keep my head above water. I am teetering on the point of drowning for good.

Ho hum.

Trying to normalise feels like a good thing here. Get up. Move about. Almost pretend you haven't had the worst fucking day. Take the garbage out. Eat some porridge. Try, somehow, magically, to do the best thing for yourself. I don't feel great. But. I have a little capability again. It is like the eye of the storm. A little calm.

Fuck me I wish there was some easy magic solution.

As I have said many times to the shrink.

Perhaps you can give me some advice that will fix everything, like, drink more green tea.

And that will be it. Done.

Desperation. And humour in the absurd. It is I suppose. A gentle coping strategy. Make fun of it. 

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