Apr 18

 Each day is a fight. This has been true for so long I have forgotten what it feels like for this not to be the case.

Each day is a struggle to wrench some form of stability or capability out of the jaws of absolute collapse and possible misery. There are zero foregone conclusions. There is little to no stability to build on from one day to the next. Everyday is a reset back to zero, justify todays existence via knives out hand to hand combat. It is. Difficult. Harrowing. Long term it poses its own challenges. It forms its own meta existential struggles. Not just the battle. But the war. Different timescales. All of them a fight.

Yesterday I woke up feeling absolutely awful. As expected, the heating guys called in sick again. Despite promises, I didn't expect any different on a Friday going into the weekend. On getting the call bright and early that I would be without heating and hot water for Friday and the weekend, I collapsed back to bed and struggled to right the terrible ship. An awful feeling of wrongness situated somewhere in my torso, towards the back, lats screeching in dull pain, everything screeching. Sluggish. Ill feeling. Everything. Off. Also. Not uncommon. Dysfunctional pattern number 4. Like a preselected menu item. Ah yes. Number 4. Pains all over. Particular pains in the torso, the lats, a ring of pain. Exhaustion. A sense of deep unwellness. A host of other issues stacking on top. A feeling like death sitting on top of your soon to be grave. One half step from giving up the ghost.

So I slept. And the issues did not go away. Hydration salts bounced off the problems. Yeah. That lever is not working here. Fuck off.

I came out of sleep into some semblance of staying away around 11am. I had woke at 7.30am, back to sleep by 9am. Very slowly. I warmed up. Been here. Done that. So many times. But here the hydration salts do help, I think. I am faster on the warm up phase. I don't linger there for hour upon hour or all day.

I got up properly an hour later. Shuffled around. Spoke to a friend. Depressed my mood and direction. A mistake. I lodged a minor correction and lesson from it. Don't engage like that. Unbounded enthusiasm on the other end is... deleterious to my energy levels. I need. Calm. I retreated again. And dozed. Feeling ill.

Mid afternoon. Up again. Shockingly. I made myself useful. I don't know how. Even in the aftermath I am not sure how I managed it. It. Doesn't compute. Nevertheless. I tidied a little. A small amount. Pathetic by my old standards. Wiped a kitchen top down. Did what was left of the washing up.

And then. Rested. And then. Shockingly. I made dinner. Something I am not doing anymore. Something simple. Chicken. Rice. Pressure cooker. Some vegetables. Stock. It was ok. Nothing amazing. By my standards. Kind of a fail. But it was tasty enough. And filling. And pretty balanced.

Two useful things in one day. Despite feeling like shit.

And then.

I went and did a tiny bit of gardening. Trimmed the monster honeysuckle out front. Let the machines do the work and me guide them. But. 15 minutes. Badly flagging. Asthma rising. Energy drained out of my feet. Hilariously my muscles were actually signalling fatigue for once. I can actually tell the difference between that CFS fatigue, and genuine muscle fatigue. Both were triggering. I think it's testament to my poor conditioning that even without CFS, my muscles just dont have the stamina they used to.

I tidied most of my garden mess. Pushing hard into the red zone. Very hard. Had to collapse. So I did. Back to bed. Collapse. Breathe. Slow down. Recover.

And then. Ridiculously. On a whim. By the time 9pm rolled round. I jumped in the car - I havent been out properly in an age. And went for the smallest of grocery runs. So small in fact. That I picked up basically nothing. A few items. A few treats. A treat I figured. Would go a long way.

Came home. Collapsed again. This time. For good.

Today. Has been a bit more stable. Still a fight. Up. Down. Up. Down. Feel ok ish. Feel ill. Feel ok ish. Eat something. Feel worse. Rest. Eat something. Feel better. No pattern. No sanity. Just a fucking ever shifting landscape of bullshit.

Yesterday. I realised I was disassociating. Not hard. Not off into hardcore la la land. But certainly. "out of it". The trip for groceries was mildly surreal. Like. Being in a computer game. Like floating 1 foot above the ground. Trapped inside your own simulation of alerts going off and declining energy. Everything outside. Felt like a racing game going past. Fake. Surreal. Just there to give me something to dodge my avatar around. I was aware of it. Floaty. Ah. Mild disassociation. How delightful. Is this real ? I can't quite tell. It looks like what real used to be. It doesn't feel real though. Like a fractured dream.

Today. I have stayed at home. I had an invite to go to a birthday party. I should have gone. My energy has flickered on that borderline. Yes. No. Highly debatable. Push. Don't push. In the end. I could sense the direction of the wind. Be still. Rest. Let go. Rest. Not out of hopelessness. Just out of wisdom. So. I have made my apologies. And not gone. And stayed at home to marshal my energy.

Today I made the briefest of meals. Barely cooking. Eggs on toast. But still something. Did a tiny bit of washing. Did a tiny bit of hoovering. Progress. Keep at it. Keep fighting. Pace yourself. See. Progress. Keep moving. Don't give in. Fuck it. Fuck life. Fuck this. Fuck the bullshit. Fuck everything. Don't think. Don't linger. Let the existential horrors sit out there today. Just. Be here. In the moment.

That was the same yesterday. An avoidance of looking over the existential fence. Don't. Let. The. Existential. Dread. In. I love that comic. I've posted it here before. It hits a bit harder with me. Because I struggle all the other times. And then the existential elephant comes and sits on my shoulders as well. Along with its friends. Depression. Hopelessness. Disappointment.

 Today has been a fight again. A better ground than yesterday. But a fight nonetheless. Mid evening. I am still fighting. To get through. To not slump backwards. Do not get lost in the weeds. To just try and manifest staying on the right line of not feeling ill. Even though I have little to no control over it.

Difficult.

No wonder it often feels like I am done. What's the point.

Mentalry.