Mar 29

 The brutal CFS reality. This is my world.

Today, I slowly got up, and decided to make a chicken stew. I had picked up some chicken thighs on the grocery run under the optimistic idea that I'd make a chicken stew. It's been a few days. Chicken is still good, but wont last forever.

So today I did that. And I start with the idea. Yeah. I can do that. Go slow. No worries.

Chicken. Start. Brown it. All good.

But by the time I'm half way through cutting a swede I am struggling. I feel dizzy. Exhausted. The task disappears down a long corridor. It's just you. Gritted teeth. Knife. One more cut. One more cut. Keep going. It becomes diabolical. Your system is screaming at you about imminent collapse. Everything becomes painful. Everything becomes destabilising. Thoughts go out the window as the system just reduces down to emergency management.

45 minutes. I am done. I am collapsing. Staggering. I can hardly pick things up from the floor. I leave half of the things uncleaned where they are. I need to collapse.

Collapse. Rest. The thoughts. I am this incapable. I cannot stand in a kitchen for 45 minutes. I cannot make a simple meal. I am that fucked. I do my very best to stay in my lane - to not tickle the dramatic crash responses. But. When I try to do something "normal" I hit that wall hard. It reminds me how absolutely shit I am. And how debilitating this is.

My thoughts immediately start junking everything I have in life. Most of the things I have left. Pointless. Give them away. I am unlikely to play most if any of my board games every again. I am not going to craft things. I can sleep. And eat. And a little inbetween. A computer gives me my best shot of low energy interaction.

But then.

This is too much.

I am sick of living like this. The juice is not worth the squeeze. What the fuck am I doing.

Sigh.

I should not. Make judgements. When I am crashing and feel shit. It's The worst state to decide to make a weather forecast. And my crashing state wont be doing any favours to my brain sauce either. Poisoning the well.

So.

Difficult. I need to stop thinking about it. Put it aside. Stabilise. And then think about it.

Thoughts about work skitter in the background. It feels like a strain I don't need given my state. I don't know. It feels like too big of a thing to think about properly. Makes sense. I am crashing. And trying to high level state sim.

Stop. Turn the brain off.

Forgive yourself.

So hard.

This is CFS. This is what it's like. And that's on a day I can get up. 

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