Can I Borrow a Spoon or Two?

Bzzzzzzzz the anxiety is high today.  Bzzzzzzz It rings in my ears, vibrates through my bones, reverberates through my skin and echoes through my lungs as my chest tightens in around itself like a nervous armadillo.   Bzzzzzz  my eyes lose focus and my train of thought ceases.  Bzzzzzzz I forget how to breath and here comes the tears.  It’s getting dark.  It’s a panic attack.

This is how I started my morning.  The last few days I’ve been physically and mentally exhausted.  I’m wide awake all night long and unable to fall asleep until almost lunchtime.  I get a few hours of snooze and then I’m up again.  Not quite awake but not asleep, I’ve been drifting through the last few days like a ghost.

I’ve had a lot of pain in my wrist/arm which I am now convinced is broken but I loathe hospitals and rarely have a drive so I haven’t gone and gotten it checked out.  What the hell am I gonna do with a cast on my arm? I got shit to do.  I usually have to feel like I’m physically dying to justify going to the Emergency room.   With all the pain in my wrist, back and neck, the only way I’m comfortable is lying down.  I’ve gotten nothing done around the house, I haven’t blogged or been on Social Media, other than brief lurking and Gif viewing.

I’m just tired.

Tomorrow, we travel home to Nova Scotia for Christmas.  We have to take the ferry.  It wouldn’t be as bad if we had a car but lugging all our suitcases and my little dog and standing outside in the weather until boarding time then all the walking you have to do once you board just kills my body.  I have to drop my dog off at the kennels and then go up stairs to find a place to perch.  It’s the holidays so I’m guessing the boat will be packed with people.  Ugh. It’s usually cold on the boat so I’ll have to bring a blanket.  The whole thing is a pain in the ass.  I look forward to the day when we can just pack up our car and drive there, avoiding all the noise, hassle, pain and cold of the ferry.  I usually need a day or so to recover from the travel.  It’s embarrassing.  

It’s a week of visiting and dinners and family and friends and food I’m not supposed to eat.  I’ve mentioned before how I’m not in the Christmas spirit at all this year, so it’ll be a week of acting, watching my language and making sure my dog doesn’t poop anywhere in the house.  My mother in law’s house is really large so it’s a lot of walking and stairs.  At some point, my legs will go out and I’ll be stuck in the basement for a day crying out of frustration and humiliation.   

Don’t get me wrong, I love my in laws.  They’re wonderful people and they’ve been very kind to me.  I love to see them and the little nieces.  It’s just me.  My body doesn’t always cooperate.  I get tired fast.  I just run out of spoons.  It both depresses and frightens me so I cry.  I’m peri menopausal so I cry.  I’m grateful for their kindness so I cry.  I cry over everything these days.  It’s embarrassing and I don’t want them to think less of me.

I’m a bumbling, Pajama wearing mess.

But I have to try to be normal for a week.  

I have a ton of shit to do today to prepare for our trip, I just want to crawl back in to a warm bed and sleep.


How do you handle all the activity during the holiday season?

What do you do when you just don’t have enough spoons?

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Sam

CFS: A Poem

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome
A whole new night of still no sleep

Nothing works, not even counting sheep.

I’m somewhere between asleep and awake

Another night of this pain I cannot take.

When I do drift off I’m plagued by dreams

Violent and bloody I wake up in screams.

It’s tossing and turning all night long

Thinking of all the things that I’ve done wrong.

Ideas for writing projects visit me far too late

I get up out of bed so I don’t disturb my mate.

Questioning myself whether I locked the door

Thinking of tomorrow’s shopping trip to the store

Worrying about money, food and bills

Wishing I could afford those sleeping pills.

Knowing I’ll suffer from this sleep lost

Going thru days in pain is often the cost. 

Sometimes when I pray I ask why I’m such  a mess

The answer I get is my dear, you have CFS.

Live Humbly,  Be Charitable,  Live Graciously, 

Sam
Image

http://www.insomnia.net/images/chronic-insomnia.jpg