FAWWWWWWWK.

My mysterious ailment has returned.  I spent more time asleep than awake this past weekend, and assumed it was because I’ve been eating more junk food than usual…but as of Saturday night I went back on my optimal strict diet and it hasn’t helped.  I slept for eleven hours last night, woke up not feeling particularly rested, and spent my entire art-modelling shift practically falling asleep on my podium.  I guess the vitamin supplements I’m taking are not actually a magical cure.  FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

This would also explain why the apartment’s fallen to shit again (well, I managed to clean up before The Doll’s visit on Friday night.  Before that, though, things were firmly in can’t-see-the-floor territory).  My energy levels must have been slowly sinking for a while now.  That may in fact be why I’ve been regularly consuming chocolate lately – my constant fatigue makes me crave sugar to temporarily boost my energy to almost-normal.  (The energy from sugar is not a good or healthy-feeling energy, though, and I feel worse afterward, so I’m going to try to ignore those cravings and stick to eating healthy.)

The first time I went through this always-exhausted thing, my dismissive shithead doctor tried to write it off as a relapse of my clinical depression.  Well, guess what, asshole?  When I’m depressed I lose interest in things I used to like.  Right now (and the last time this “fatigue” thing hit me) I’m still totally interested in doing all my previous hobbies and whatnot – I just can’t because I don’t have the fucking stamina.  Example: I have an idea for a painting.  I’m pretty excited about working on it.  Yesterday I managed to walk to the art supply store to get the canvas and paint I needed (ten minute walk, tops), but it took me all day to work up to that and then when I got home again with the goods I was exhausted and had to lie down – and lying down promptly turned to sleeping.  And yes, this whole state of affairs is depressing me – but this isn’t clinical, mysterious-drop-in-seratonin-levels depression, this is I’m-sad-and-bored-and-frustrated-because-I-have-a-bunch-of-stuff-I-wanna-do-and-my-body-won’t-cooperate depression.  THERE IS A MOTHERFUCKING DIFFERENCE.

Now, the shithead doctor did refer me to an internist, who prescribed some more blood tests.  That was at least a month ago and I keep forgetting to call for my results.  One of the things he had me tested for is HIV and so now a little voice in the back of my head is wondering whether these periods of being totally fucked up for weeks at a time are my AIDS-ridden body trying to fight off a case of the sniffles.

Or, who knows, maybe it’s a thyroid thing.  Anyway I should try to get around to calling that internist back, if I can ever manage to be awake during his hours of operation.

FUCK.

I was really enjoying the fact that my atrophied muscles were starting to come back.  I was enjoying being able to keep the apartment clean and being able to run more than one errand in a day without needing to collapse.  I was looking forward to taking on more and more strenuous modelling jobs and doing well at them.  I don’t want to relapse.  Please please please…

4 Comments

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4 responses to “FAWWWWWWWK.

  1. jnakabb

    Damn, let’s hope it’s something acute (as in short-term, and not chronic) so you can get back to dancing around the apartment, throwing paint on canvas and boys on your bed.

  2. uncommonmurre

    I’m wishing you the best. I have something similar though it’s usually not so bad. Mine is controlled with treating it as Spleen Qi Deficiency, acupuncture and diet control.

  3. Pingback: Small mercies. | hiding in plain sight

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