Mad Woman…

March 3, 2024March 3, 2024 ~ somethinginthewayshemoves

As predicted last week’s level of activity resulted in this week’s inactivity. I’ve been sore and exhausted. Tedious, but expected. The thing that has really been bothering me is my foul mood.

I’m extremely pissed off. Don’t ask me why because I have no idea. No one has done anything egregious. I have experienced no great wrong. Yet, each day I wake up feeling grumpier than the last. My baseline emotion is crabby.

The slightest provocation sends my simmering frustration to bubbling over. I lose a page in a book, spill my tea, forget a detail and I’m furious. My wrath is not solely directed inwards, everyone & everything annoys me. For no reason. I know my feelings are unreasonable. Consequently, it is best for me to be where others are not. I doubt all this seclusion is helpful. Turning all this negativity on myself is unlikely to produce much joy.

I’m at a loss for a solution. I’m accustomed to feeling sad or scared, but this aimless anger is uniquely discomforting. I hope it will pass. Perhaps when I’m less fatigued my mood will lift. Maybe the state of the world is getting to me. Or just life itself. Whatever the cause, I do not love it.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

How I’m feeling now…

May 7, 2023May 16, 2023 ~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I have been somewhat absent here. Anxiety has engulfed me. There is a very specific reason for the anxiety, unfortunately it is not a thing that I control or fix.

Theoretically being able to pinpoint the trigger means it I should have a definite end point. However, since resolution is not within power the uncertainty persists. I can’t even begin to address the issue until next week, which leaves me endlessly playing out scenarios in my head. It is sickeningly stressful. The fear that has been sitting on my chest for a week feels like it’s attempting to climb up & grab for my throat.

I’ve tried every calming weapon in my arsenal to little effect. When I managed to leave the house every sensation was painfully amplified. I was both submerged in sound & every noise was taking place inside my body. Likewise, every living being in my approximate vicinity seemed claustrophobically close. I felt dangerously on display & incapable of making a quick retreat. Sitting still was impossible, but moving left me gasping for breath. I couldn’t decipher if it was Pots or anxiety related. The more I worried about it, the less able I was to catch my breath.

Outside was brutal. Inside is merely a more measured torment. The slow drip of water torture rather than the ripping out of finger nails. I remain on high alert. For what I don’t know; there is no physical threat. My mind stubbornly refuses to divert course. If I pull it astray thoughts quickly revert to dissecting worse case situations. This is very much a wait and see kind of issue. Strategising & replaying every possible outcome cannot help me.

Still, I lie awake at night with my heart pounding. When I finally dip into sleep my subconscious conjures catastrophes that aren’t even feasible. I awake in a panic that fades to dread. An awful gnawing fear the dark summons in the certain absence of slumber. I never feel more inclined to screaming than when imprisoned in insomnia. 3am worries are no one’s friend.

Of course I reassure myself that I can survive subpar outcomes. I do know that this extreme horror level of anxiety will not last forever. I’ve coped with worse & there will be much better days. My mind simply doesn’t care. We’re hyped up to life or death threat defence and it has no intention backing down. If I had a bunker, I would be in it.

If you like what a do you can support me here or on Patreon.

My head is spinning…

March 13, 2023June 29, 2023 ~ somethinginthewayshemoves

It has been a week. Sometimes this chronic illness business is depressingly predictable. Others it throws you a delightfully new problem. The past week has combined both. Lucky me.

Let’s start with the spoonie admin. Apparently because I have Pots the airline requires proof from a Dr that I am fit to fly. I am fit to fly. I flew last year with no issues. I don’t require oxygen and I can follow the safety instructions should the worst happen. None of which makes any difference to the airline people. This letter has to be signed no more than 30 days before departure. Months ago I made an appointment and explained what it was for. So, imagine my surprise when I turned up at the prearranged time only to be told that their policies have changed; my GP surgery can no longer provide this service. They suggested I contact a private clinic. Since I would dearly like to go on my long awaited holiday, I did just that. After quite a few no can dos, I found a practice who could help. Huge sigh of relief. Right up until they emailed the cost. Oh, what I would give for a body that behaves.

The week then steered into familiar territory. A night of unmanageable pain culminating in a disastrous faint. My glasses were knocked off & one lens shattered in the fall. I of course landed face first in the mess, then proceeded to repeat the passing out & smash my head. Cue a day of blood tests, butterfly stitches and feeling appalling. Oh and obviously more cancelled plans.

I tire of discovering new hurdles and stumbling over the old ones. The week ahead will be mostly conducted from the safety of home. I intend to sit still, get some writing done and try very hard not to be so much trouble. Health is wealth in more ways than one. Bronan is relying on me to keep him in the luxury he is accustomed to.

If you enjoy what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Pale September…

September 25, 2022September 25, 2022 ~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I just lit the first pumpkin shaped candle of the season. It is rainy, windy and cold. The timing is right.

Today did not bring my favourite autumnal weather. The gloom did, however suit my mood. I had the long awaited appointment with the consultant this week & she had no good news for me. PoTs ✔️ Treatment to improve symptoms ✖️. I can’t take beta blockers & I’m already doing everything that is supposed to help. She also thinks I need to see someone else about the extreme breathlessness. So, it’s status quo with the passing out every two seconds. Oh and back to square one on referrals & tests re breathlessness. I’m very tired and exceptionally fed up. This is what happens when I pin all my hopes on one Dr.

On the bright side I live in Glasgow and it’s nearly October. I am certain I will have many opportunities to wallow in gloomy weather. I also know a very annoying man. No doubt he will frustrate me so much that I will occasionally forgot almost no part of my body works.