So apparently it takes being a hot mess to get me back here. I’m feeling pretty raw, and this seemed like the right place to go.
For context, the last 6 or so weeks have been pretty great, especially emotionally. I did a medication change in January that’s worked wonders. I sleep well, I don’t have nightmares, I rarely have daytime sleepiness, or even early-evening sleepiness. My mood has been rock-solid: no mania, no depression, and no disproportionately anxious responses. Simply put, my mental health has never been better.
Tonight I had a bit of a meltdown. It started with disproportionate anger to what I would have thought in logical terms to be a fairly minor irritant involving an online friendly acquaintance. Then I started getting distressed about feeling this anger. I also remembered a couple times this morning I felt flashes of anger at people who were just doing their jobs, and the issues were, again, small (I did not take it out on them, don’t worry).
Jalan and I came up to snuggle, since I wasn’t doing well. We talked about this. For more context, anger is generally a no-go for me. It wasn’t permitted in my family of origin. It largely didn’t exist for me in the first half of my life. Didn’t exist as a conscious feeling, that is. “Anger In,” the personality psychologists call it. Combined with a hefty dose of repression and the superego from hell.
Then I started feeling fearful. Not about the anger-provoking irritants. But about possibly falling back into a CFS relapse of unpredictable duration. I had a long, really severe one in the Fall, but have feeling mostly myself since around mid-December. Sometimes I’ve been more energetic than I’ve felt since CFS first hit three years ago. Still, it didn’t seem fair that it might be coming around again. When “fair” has fuck-all to do with this.
As the next step, I just started crying.
I looked back at the week. Monday and Tuesday had a lot of stuff going on. Unusual financial stresses, veterinarian visits (not even for the pet that’s dying of cancer), out and active longer hours than my norm, and still got a shit-ton of to-do’s checked off.
After all that, Wednesday was a total loss. I was up maybe an hour before going back to bed. Thursday, I got a couple of hours’ work done in the morning, then had to stop. Headache came on, not responsive to the usual remedies (ibuprofen, water, caffeine). I ultimately took a half-tablet of Percocet to be able to sleep. Today, I spent over two hours at the urologist for mysterious problems (not cancer). Nothing today was conclusive, so set up a pelvic CT for late April. I’ve had the problem for 30 years. I can wait another 6 weeks. Surgery is a possibility, depending on what they find. But after that, I did not have anything like the energy to work.
In short, I pushed hard Monday and Tuesday, dealt with some unusual stressors, and CFS has been kicking my ass since then. Oh, and I had an episode of autonomic dysregulation this afternoon, the occurrence of which is (imperfectly) correlated with CFS flares. But extra fun.
And tonight, it just all came crashing down. Exhaustion, anger, fear, sadness. Too much.