Don’t fight it if you don’t know what it is

Last night I slept for 11 hours.  Not soundly all the time; tossing and turning with nightmares and strange dreams but I was surprised to sleep until 8:30am as I’d assumed I might wake at 5am after enough rest.  It felt good and this morning I didn’t feel as bad as I normally do first thing, but now only a few short hours on and I could lie down and sleep again.  I’m not surprised but I am disappointed.  Whatever this is, sleeping doesn’t fix it.  Of course, not sleeping won’t help it, but rest, reduced activities and sleep won’t make it go away.  And that’s what I want.

I worked half from home this week – one day on, one off.  Both of the days AFTER I worked in the office, I felt something like a hangover in the morning.  Heavy limbs, dehydration, tiredness and brain fuzziness.  The only improvement was by Friday night I didn’t feel as terrible as I normally do.  So another week of limited activity and then back to the doctor to see what they think.  I’m trying everything, randomly.  I’ve tried those vitamins tablets off and on but they leave a nasty taste in my mouth and I think taking them at night with dinner is not a good idea.  Today I’ve taken a lower dose of anti-inflammatory in the morning to see it’s effect.  I want to see if there is still pain beneath them.  As a friend truthfully but slightly judgmentally said the other day, ‘You don’t want to be taking medicine ALL the time, do you?’

I’ve gotten used to this feeling of fatigue but I can still remember the feeling of energy or getting up in the morning and feeling energetic.  It’s like an emotion, I can remember how having the energy made me feel, but not what it feels like to have it, when I return to my body, it’s still just telling me it’s tired.  In new and interesting ways too, yesterday I was at the Salvo’s browsing through their second hand clothes – great bargains and a good way to save money when your financial future is uncertain – and I grabbed 5 garments to try on over a few minutes holding the coat-hangers at shoulder level so as not to drag them on the ground.  Thirty seconds was all I could manage before my arm told me it couldn’t hold them any longer.  Not ‘ I’m feeling tired’ but ‘ I can’t’ and dropped itself surprisingly down to my side.  It’s so new to feel so weak, and only at the age of 41.  If I ever get out of this, I will never take my body for granted again I promise.  I will cherish every day of feeling strong like a million dollars.

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