Day one

of the, for want of a better word, sedation fortnight.

I slept soundly last night but I think that was done to the fact that I’d taken a sleeping pill the night before. I fell asleep quickly which really surprised me as all five rats decided that bed time was a perfect time to start trying to open the brazil nuts that I’d given them earlier. They get animated when I get ready to go to bed because I’m there in the room with them. It’s quite a compliment but also a bit of a pain at times.

This morning I didn’t have the hangover that I usually get with a sleeping pill as my GP had given me a different one to try and I’m pleased with that. I still felt deeply tired though and as though nothing could ever remove that feeling, as if I could never get enough sleep. I feel as though my energy has been sealed in an envelope and put on a shelf so out of reach that no ladder is long enough for me to get up there and reclaim it.

I like to walk long distances but right now I struggle to walk to my local ASDA and back. It’s 1/3 of a mile away which is nothing when normally I walk five miles a day. This is how tired I am. I still went out today though around the local shops. I bought some haddock from the fishmonger who trades in a stall on the local high street and had to talk to him. We chatted about why I didn’t need him to skin my fish because I’d learned how to at school and we were both bemused why it was thought to be a good idea to stop teaching kids how to cook while they were at school. I also had a chat with Ross the greengrocer. It was hard work talking to them both and took energy that I couldn’t afford to spend. Not so many years ago I would have been curt to the point of rudeness but I’ve learned that it’s not the fault of other people if I’m ill, I have no right to resent their wellness and it takes up far too much energy.

I’m crying often but I’m not depressed. My tears are involuntary and neither wanted nor needed but still they come.

I had a nap this afternoon. I don’t like to do this normally but I think I need to respond to what my mind and body are telling me. I’ve been pushing both too hard and both have the right to ask for rest. I have timed naps, no more than 90 minutes and find that it’s normally enough to give me a little more energy.

I’ve eaten better today than I have for a long time but I’ve also eaten too much rubbish today but my diet has been a lot better than it has all week.

I’m getting things done at home. It’s easy to do things in small stages if I can sit down whenever I want.

Walks, or at least long walks, are out of the question if I want to have energy for my day in London/Kent on Thursday. My usual walk through Hyde Park & Edgware Road won’t happen though because even I know that, no matter how tempting it is, I’ll end up crying on the train journey home.

I’m blogging this, not because I  think the world will be overwhelmingly interested in the tiny steps I’m taking over the next few weeks, but because if I commit these thoughts to something permanent then I can remind myself how I have to keep on with this regime even though my mind will tell me that I’m better.

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