Tag Archives: fatigue

On losing my voice

From September 2006. Almost didn’t recognize myself.

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Child of Saturn

Something clicked into place inside me. I awoke with a start, jumped out of bed as the sun rose, and started cleaning my room. I threw open all the windows, scrubbed the floorboards, dusted my bookshelves, and changed the sheets. I rearranged the furniture with Herculean determination; I would have torn down walls and transplanted my room to a sunnier spot had I not realized that I was only renting a room and did not own the place. General cleaning was in order.

This could be the effect of the Full Moon or it could be that I just got tired of being tired. I spent the whole day yesterday in bed, nursing a colossal hangover. I didn’t really drink that much; with two bottles of beer and a sip of cheap red wine, I willed myself into drunkenness. I was desperate for a reprieve from that barren child who had been spending endless hours splayed on the floor, defeated, reeking with suffocating saturnine malaise and dripping with melancholy.

I was only able to slip away from her tight grip for a couple of hours. When I opened my eyes she was roosting on my chest, scratching the lint on my shirt with muddied claws, staring at the black moth that somehow got into my room. I wonder if she would let it escape. Too exhausted to move, I allowed myself to be swallowed by darkness. An hour later and I was up. She had moved to a corner, her scraggly head resting on a pile of dirty clothes. The moth was gone.

I rummaged through the fridge for nourishment. I opened a bag of fresh greens. My body was screaming for meat, but I couldn’t be bothered to cook. I finished half a gallon of water hoping that would flush down the toxins and cobwebs from my system. There was still no running water (it was the third day; the manager of the building said it would be back by tomorrow) and the electricity was low. I could turn on the fan but not the lights, the telly but not the computer. Frustrated, I return to my room. Mélancolie, as I now start calling her, coaxed me to return to bed. With nothing to do, I gave in. Sleep took over instantly.

It was dark outside when I woke up. The lights were still not working; I turn on the TV. Not even the Sports News could rouse an emotion from me. Spain lost to Northern Ireland? I turn my head the other way and face the wretched creature that has been siphoning my energy. I study her face with indifference—her slithery hair shining in half light, weathered skin that was both greasy and parched, pudgy and taut, her eyes drowning in darkened sockets. She was not malevolent in any way, I realized. She was just devoid of everything; a useless lump of mass occupying space for no reason at all.

I began talking to her, asking her questions. She remained in her wraith-like state, more interested in flicking specks of dirt from her nails than speaking to me. I poked, I prodded. WHY ARE YOU HERE?!? Her apathy enraged me. I started pulling her at her yellow-stained sleeves. I pushed her off the bed. I grabbed her neck and threw her against the night table. WHY? WHY? WHY? Not a screech, a whimper, a moan. WILL YOU EVER LET ME GO? My head started to throb. I wanted to kill.

I stepped back and started to weep. The scream that was thrashing inside my lungs for days was no longer silent. Primordial anger, hate, sorrow, pride, guilt, and wrath pulsated within my shell, erupting from my chest, tearing down the stone cold moor around my heart. I am sorry. I was wrong.

I sat in front of her; I am shivering. She doesn’t ask for comfort or care; I offer her none. I reached for the nearest trinket on the table, a half-eaten chocolate bar, and left it beside her. I bid her goodnight.

Something clicked into place within me this morning. She is gone. Saturn’s child will be back someday. In the meantime I am alone again. I am free to open the windows and air out my soul.

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Eyesight

Now that I am drawing and painting again, I am slowly tuning in to the present and focusing more. It seems easier for me, too, to resist the gravitational pull of the television and have cut down (a bit) on my social media time. I’m still exhausted and fatigued, but I never really expected art to be the magic cure for that! 🙂 I’m working around it, though, listening more to what my body needs at the moment.

Right now my eyes are telling me to rest. Now that I’m back on the art saddle, I’ve been abusing my eyes a bit. I look at my cats and I see them in colors. I look closely at Wednesday and she’s not just a black cat: she’s rust, gray, and streaks of white. I try to drink in all the details at once, and with my chronically fatigued eyes, it can be overwhelming at times. Maybe writing an entry in my blog was not what my eyes were clamoring for, but it’s soothing in a way. I am only staring at a white screen (with shades of yellow and blue here and there) and focusing on a non-moving and bland object seems to help. Besides, I can’t let another day pass by without logging in another entry! 🙂 I made a promise to myself, remember?

I will probably call it a night soon. There was a time in my life when I thought I was going to lose my eyesight, so I am extremely grateful that I can do this now, BUT I have to be careful, though, and should not overdo things. 🙂

So, good night, world! I’ll see you again tomorrow. 🙂

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In-between days

I’ve been having low-grade headaches for the past couple of days. I’ve been waiting for the full-on migraine to come along, but so far it hasn’t made it’s appearance yet. I don’t have a headache now, but I am not 100% lucid and I’m fighting off fatigue. Sometimes I don’t know which is worse: a roaring migraine or this in-between state wherein you know you are about to get a big one. I spend a lot of time in this limbo state—fatigued, forgetful, with a foggy head, and a general feeling of not being completely there—and yet I’m still not used to it.

Times like these, I always turn to migraine.com to shed some light on my situation and find relief from my pain, or in this case, non-pain. I stumbled upon this article and could completely relate to it. This is exactly what I am going through. It’s good to know that I am not alone in this, but has someone found a way to skip this phase altogether?

Okay, I’m not usually this whiny when it comes to my headaches. I’ve been living with this for a while now and I can normally cope with my foggy senses and would not complain about it, but this week has been tough. I’ve been trying to draw and paint (I have a deadline!), but I just can’t focus. All I want is to go back to bed and have another go at a snooze. I’ve tried exercising, but I think I just added to the fatigue. I’ve been reading a lot just to see if I could sharpen my senses, but I’ve noticed that I have to go back to some paragraphs because the words didn’t register. Sigh. And I’ve been doing so well the past month, month and a half. Is it because I have been skipping my acupuncture sessions? Hmmm… maybe…

Again, I don’t know which is better: the migraine or limbo? At least with a migraine you can drink the magic pill of your choice (mine is Zomig) and—click!!!—the world is clear again, but in this in-between state, you have no choice but to wait it out and see what happens next. Maybe I really need to go back to my acupuncturist. Oh well. In the meantime, I really can’t do anything about it. I think I will—no, I choose—to breathe deeply through the fog and hug my cats. 🙂

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(Wednesday still believes that I can create and sticks by my side no matter what. She’s taking her job as my muse seriously! 😀 )

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Psychedelic

Ink on masking tape. Brain fog is slowly dissipating, but headache seems sharper. At least it’s not migraine… yet!

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Out of the fog

I think my brain fog is slowly clearing up. It’s been, what? Three or four weeks since I’ve been completely lucid. I don’t know if it’s the same for the other migraine sufferers, but fatigue hounds me before, during, and after an attack. I didn’t feel the actual pain of the headache—at least I don’t remember, maybe the drugs I’ve been taking made sure of that—but I still haven’t found an escape from fatigue.

I feel worn out. It’s been difficult to do simple things. Coffee has not helped—not that it has helped me in the past. I just want everything to come into focus so I can be me again and just BE!

I’ve been taking it easy the past month. I feel guilty for not working as hard as I usually do, but I know that I need to do this, be good to myself… This too shall pass. I’ve skipped blogging for a long time (it was too much effort to think much less write!) and even stopped journaling for a day or two. Like I said, I feel guilty, but what could I do? I felt tired every morning after sleeping for 8 hours!

I’ve been going to an acupuncturist for the past three weeks. I think it’s making things worse by cleaning out my system and balancing my Qi, but I need this in the long run. My body is probably just purging the toxins; I should be okay soon. They’ve given me some herbs to help boost my energy and it seems to help, but I’m not out of the woods yet. I can still hear my bed calling out to me as I write this. Patience is key. I will be out of this fog soon.

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