Oct 7
Have managed to be useful at work again this week. Doing my hours. Getting stuff done. At least in the small amount of hours I do work now, I have managed to fulfill that bit of my life.
Everything else.
Not so much.
Again. It does occur. That I have a small amount of energy budget in a good week. And if I spend it in better work uptime. Then. Everything else suffers. And vice versa.
And if its not a week where I have an energy budget....
Today I am tired.
Name a day where I am not tired.
Today I am tired of being tired. Sick of being sick.
As I stood in the kitchen making a cup of tea and I could feel my body fighting me to keep standing. I was just tired. Tired of always fighting against exhaustion. Tired of never having energy to do shit. Tired of always being in this space where everything is a struggle.
If there was a way I could do something. Get energy back. I would do it. If there was a thing that said, 50% of the time this will kill you, 50% of the time you will be cured. I would do it. And. Let's be honest here. Any percentage I would take. Any. Because. Succeed or fail. Both would be a welcome state. It would move me out of the current state. Dead or alive. Would be better than current.
Sigh.
Localised pains today. The usual shit. At least they weren't all over. Well. Not to a terrible extent anyway. This one, at random, as they are, was half way between my side, my ass and my back. And. Super sensitive to touch. Touch it. Like a super deep bruise. But not. And no. I haven't done anything. Not hit anything. Not laid on it funny. It's just that creeping touch sensitive pain bullshit. Which. Apparently. Can be a feature of CFS.
As this one was accessible and not exactly a critical area. I kept poking it. How much does it hurt. Does it hurt if I do this. What if I just keep rubbing it. Get the blood moving. etc. No great conclusion. It does seem to help a little if you keep rubbing it. Moving it around. It occurred to me not for the first time that I might benefit from a regular massage. Something to get the blood shifting around. Maybe.
If I do stop therapy. Maybe I can switch for massage. Ha ha. Still gets me out.
Another fight. I have to be defensive. Careful. Of letting all the weight crush me flat psychologically. It is a battle that to be honest I never win. I am already crushed flat. But. Maybe. Sometimes. I do my best. And lift the rock up an inch and wave.
But I can feel that I am very diminished. Anxious. Shuttered. The outside can feel strange. Cabin fever. It figures.
Its about. Trying to find a path through all the mines. That is the most tolerable that I can find. Basically. Trying to make it work with what I've got. It's thin. But. I dunno.
I can also see that this year I have withdrawn harder.
My underlying instinct now is to quarantine myself. No one needs my shit. No one needs to share my misery. I have covered this before. Like the old dog that disappears before it dies. To die out of sight.
Yikes.
Cheery.
I am kind of ok today. Sort of. Just about. In the usual scale of shit things. Kind of satisfied I have been work productive this week. Not plummeting into the floor of hopelessness. Just. The foothills of misery. Which I am sure. That alone would quality me as high end nutcase. But. Just another Wednesday. You kinda get used to it. And. Also not.
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