Feb 14

 I have done fuck all work this week, despite some of it becoming increasingly pressing.

Instead I find myself listening to the rise and fall of my well being. Thoughts of work pushed to the side. After me strongly recommending to Andy that we get some AI coding going, an AI suite has been rolled out to the developers. It's clear this is for some of them their first experience with AI coding. It aced a task one of the coders had to do. Start to finish. Done. Nothing for the fleshbag to do. I think it's going to destroy the programming side of the industry. And as is often the case. IT ends up being the canary in the cage. So it goes with IT. So it ends up with the rest of society. All knowledge based intellectual work is going to evaporate. From lawyers to project managers. From writers to programmers. It's just a matter of time. And not much time at that. It's going to upset a large chunk of economic stability. But I don't think there will be a nice neat transition to some UBI mechanism. I think, like much of anything. Pain will be endured. Rich people will control the levers. And a whole set of middle class people will suddenly find themselves no longer middle class. And this will be seen as OK. At least to those calling the shots. Everyone else. Will endure pain.

Yesterday I made my afternoon date with one of my gaming buddies. He's a lovely guy. Almost if you squint retired. He potters around occasionally with a cleaning job - he is one of those crazy people that enjoy cleaning. I spent all afternoon over there chatting about this and that. We talked a bit about Matt's memorial. About Matt himself. And how it had badly affected some of his friends in the gaming community. Sad.

I felt the lag of CFS kick in about halfway through the afternoon. But. To be fair. I hadn't eaten all day. Because that's me. I got home flagging, immediately got something to eat, and stabilised out. Didn't crash. I could feel that the day had been tiring. But. Wasn't terminal. I then stayed up, played games, and then played games for too long. Way into the early hours of the morning. But didn't, again, crash.

Dr GPT seems to have been proven right about the hydration salts. When I am on them. My capacity goes up. Most notably mornings become a lot better. Night and day. The difference between feeling like you're dying. And. Eh. This is ok, I'm functional. Shocking. It also at this point seems to have stabilised out for the rest of the day too. I am no longer extremely fragile all over the show like I was in the first few weeks of the salts. So. That prediction. That your system needed to adjust to a new status quo, and whilst it did so, it wouldn't be pretty, seems to have been borne out. This comes directly from some research on the matter that noted that autonomic states seemed to have stable resting points and "switched" between stable points. Rather than just being an up and down rollercoaster all the time. So. It would seem some bits of my functioning have improved. And. Crucially, it seems like I understand why and how to do that.

But the rest of my shit remains. The CFS lurks at the edges. Ironically I am now struggling with learning this new level of status quo. I am once again having to figure out what it is I can and can't do. How much is too much. What happens when we push a little too hard. The goalposts have shifted - in a positive way - but in doing so, I am in unfamiliar lands again, and I risk crashing out trying to find those boundaries.

I am, taking the piss with it when I can. I am not even doing this consciously. It's just. How I am. Give me an inch of energy. And I will run off with it squealing. Only to land face first 10 yards down the path as it stutters out.

I still can't do much of shit. But. My "better" hours have expanded quite a bit. My endless depths of sleeping has stopped. I no longer feel a heart wrench everytime I wake up. It is better.

That being said. On Wednesday I think it was. I slept a little in the early morning. Woke up. And all the old symptoms were there. I felt terrible. Awful. No. No no no no no. No. No. The salts are supposed to fix this. I am supposed to be better. I am supposed to be improving. No no no no.

The mental kick was real from that. Without realising it I had started to hope that I had a small amount of control over some of my bullshit. Being faced with that being a lie gave me a real low day. I coped with it. I rationalised. Look. The salts are not a cure. They are a mitigation. They help in someways. But you still have CFS. You still have the bullshit. Just. Learn your new improved level a little. And realise there are still going to be bad days. But maybe less than there were.

I think in practical terms what the salts have done for me, is remove a fair bit of the abject suffering. I am still a useless potato. But now I have more hours where I am not suffering in a horrific way, than I do with the misery. I am not about to be jumping back into a fully fledged career. But perhaps I will be a little less suicidal in future.

Assuming it all holds. Assuming it doesn't collapse.

The suicide fairy is always present with me however. I had a better day yesterday. And towards the end of it. I contemplated ending it all. Not pressured. Not emotional. But. There is a thing there. A rationalisation. Of ending it on a better note. Ending it on the upward day. And not the downward day. Because you know it will turn to shit again. And it is unbearable. So. Do it. Now.

It didn't seriously challenge me. But it was there. I could feel it. Tugging. Not only a rational argument. But I could feel the emotional tug. Yes. This feels right. Just. End.

I let it float away into the air. Not accepted. Not rejected. Just wandered away from.

Heating guys have got back to me - whilst I was out on Friday in fact. The owner was lovely. Wanted to know how they had done. Fantastic I said. Such lovely guys. I had said to my friend how much of a difference it made to find friendly kind people. I've been in business 30 years he said. I try my best to make sure we do what we say, and we treat people well. In that case I said, you're nailing it. You're doing a great job, well done.

Lovely. How nice it is to have kind people to bump into in the world. In these days of epic shitbaggery and endless lies and avarice on display and trumpeted as a boon - I'm looking at you shitbag America - it's ever more important to recognise the genuinely nice and positive people in the world. The things that work. The kindnesses done. If you want to take an epically shitty silver lining from the hellscape narcissism that is Trump, then it's this - it offers a very stark constrast to the good in the world, and makes you appreciate that and not be complacent about people being nice. Personally. In my older age, I have made concerted efforts to always tell people when they've done a good thing. Because it's so often the case that when something is done well, nothing is said, and when something fucks up there is a complaint. Resulting in nothing but complaints and no reinforcement of kindness. Which tends to get you a certain downward spiral kind of development. Fuck that noise. If someone is kind. Or loving. Or nice. Or helpful. Tell them. Thank you, you are so kind. Easy. Costs nothing.

Anywho.

Estimate for the heating is in. I haven't looked at it yet. It's apparently within budget. So. Sounds good. Commence the overhaul of the heating. I shall spend a thankful reflective moment on the passing of my old boiler. It has not once failed me in the 25 years I've been here. It's an inanimate lump of metal. And humans bond with anything. So I will thank the boiler. You did good. In a more serious way. It's just a form of being thankful. One of the core little nuggets of psych juju they recommend to people. Do not become complacent to the things you have that are good. And in doing so. You will be happier. So goes the theory. It does make sense. It's a gentle nudge against first world problems syndrome. Oh my god. My latte hazelnut sugar sprinkles coffee is too hot. My day is ruined ! etc.

Today I can absolutely feel the CFS tugging downwards on me. It's telling me I did a lot yesterday. And I need to rest. A lot. But I am not crashing.

Perhaps I can do that whole long term no crashing thing. And maybe. Improve things a little more again.

Not crashing gets a bit easier when you're not sitting on a hair trigger. It's still a trigger. But. Just a bit less sensitive than it was before. So far. This minute.

Hope. Is a doubled edged sword. Care.