Friday, 3 March 2017
Running on Empty
Running on empty
This is not a new topic. I wonder if I will ever be able to not write about this. This invisible thing that follows me everywhere. Always there. Keeping me company. This thing that you can't explain or describe. That you smile at when friends and family say they know how you feel as they are tired too. This heaviness in my face and body. I feel like I've been punched in the eyes. Well. I think I do. I've never actually been punched....
Chronic fatigue. 14 letters. 14 letters that fuck my life. Stupid mistakes made because I used up all my energy in a one hour meeting and then spend the rest of the day emailing. And then having to re-email to apologise for things left out. Incorrect information given. Nothing huge. The wrong date here and there. Accidentally double booking myself. It's all fixable. It just takes time to do it. Time that further drains my energy.
Running on empty. I feel like I have been like this I got back to London after Christmas. Actually. That's not quite true. I had a week of feeling ok.
I saw a request for tips on how to deal with fatigue post treatment. I just smiled. 10 years in and I still don't know how to deal with it. How to truly cope and be able to function like I should be able to.
I eat well. Really well. My diet is nearly all organic vegetables and fruit. I have basically the same breakfast everyday full of energy boosting, cancer killing foods. I take really good quality supplements. I go to bed early. I try to exercise.... I walk a fair amount. I don't drink. I don't smoke. And still.
I feel fucked.
This week I can't focus. I can't cope. I've been getting a solid 10 hours plus every night for weeks, other than the odd night here and there. I get through the day. Just. I'm trying really hard not to just rely on sugar to get me through the day. And in fact I've had very little this week. So I get up, do what I have to do during the day and then breathe a sigh of relief that I didn't make plans that night and I can go home and get into bed.
I haven't seen any of my friends in at least 2 weeks. I don't have the energy to even arrange seeing them knowing that 9 times out of 10 I will have to cancel. I live on the other side of London to those that are still in London and I don't feel I can ask them over for eggs on toast. Because that's all I have the energy to cook.
And on top of this a critically ill family member. I have said goodbye to them and was lucky that they were still here enough to know it was goodbye. But I'm worried, not about them but about those that will still be here. And I'm powerless to do anything about it all.
I don't quite know what I'm saying or where this is going.
I am on my way to my parents and my mother emailed me to say to have a bath when I get in as I don't have one in london. And you know what my first reaction was? I wanted to cry. To cry in the relief that I am going home. That I can have a bath. That food will appear. I don't have to look after myself. To clean. To tidy. To put clothes away. To not be an adult. And the only reason why I'm not crying is that I'm on a train.
I'm 32 by the way.
Time to end this post. I feel it's very inconclusive. I don't feel better like I normally do. I don't feel the weight lifted. I'm so fucking fed up of feeling tired, no, exhausted all the fucking time. And being that person whinging about it all the fucking time. I'm fed up of feeling angry at people who say they know how I feel when they don't. I'm fed up of having to mentally bully myself every single day into doing things. Like standing up.