Title: Bring Me to Life by Evanescence.
Image: A nice purple sunset to put you to sleep while driving.
I am writing this while in the midst of the worst fatigue and brain fog I have ever experienced. I am typing this on my phone so that autocorrect may be my savior.
I am currently outside as I eat a fruit cup and drink a coffee at a picnic table at my work. It’s really cold inside and surprisingly pleasant though humid out here. And I am very tired. I’m leading a meeting later today and despite having cut back on coffee for a myriad of reasons, I don’t think I can do this without it.
I haven’t been able to speak, at least loudly or clearly. My voice is hoarse yet mumbly. I don’t have the energy to project it. My brain doesn’t have the clarity to speak coherently, or even have complete and actionable thoughts. I am only able to write this because I am taking breaks between sentences.
It’s difficult to see clearly. It’s like when you wake up in the middle of the night and your eyes are blurry with sleep. Except as much as I rub my eyes it won’t go away. I can’t see as far as I normally can— making things like clocks and road signs illegible, and leaves on trees are not distinct.
I fell asleep driving on the way here. Thankfully my body tends to jolt me back with an adrenaline shock that lasts for a few seconds so I can remember that I’m driving, and sometimes even how to drive. But I often drive between slit eyes, and with immense trust in my car’s safety features.
Not everyday is like this. Just the few days before my next shot as the medication wears off, as well as the few days after my shot as the “Humira flu” passes through. I am tired most of the time, but I’m not always blind, mute, and a danger to everyone on the road; Most days I just struggle to wash my hair without my arms giving up, or stare at a coffee cup not remembering how to make coffee, or use 110 wrong words before finding the right one.
As much as the pain drives me absolutely insane, the fatigue hurts me more. I can fight through pain and still do the things I enjoy, but it’s nearly impossible to fight this level of fatigue. Doing any task takes Herculean effort, and things like going to work or taking out the trash have to go above anything else.
The biggest lesson I’ve had to learn, and am still learning, is that I have to rest. It’s not a choice. I cannot fight fatigue with anything but rest. Even when I want to be productive or go have fun, those things sometimes have to wait. I can’t go on pretending like I’m one new self-care-tip away from going back to “normal”. It’s going to take time to find the right treatment, and even then it may never be the same.
And I think this applies to a lot of things; “Muscling through” is not often a great tactic. It’s either going to hurt you, or it’s going to push off the pain or the fatigue or whatever consequence to a later time and probably at ten fold.
Your body is going to take that break whether you want to or not……..and it might be while you’re driving. It’ll probably be while you’re driving.
Bonus content:
Also see: ‘working your ass off now so you can enjoy retirement’. No. Your body will not be the same, especially if you treat it poorly now, and you might not be able to enjoy the money you saved. You might not even live to see retirement. My Papa never spent a dime and worked hard to never pay anyone for anything he could do himself, and stashed all his money away and then died at 70.
Damn, That's Crazy 