Where the 'I' resides

Hospital appointment on Monday. Went/was taken fully, freshly dressed (improvement on last year!). I cannot remember much - fatigue blots memory out.

Wrote this a while back. Too tired to reframe (although the worst is over), and it's more or less the same each time): 'Any outing takes its toll. Not of the pick-and-choose variety, mind, but with a wagonload of rot and muck. Extreme, frenzied, obliterating fatigue swamps mind and body, as does acute pain: flaring up, shooting about my form, lingering in places – as if head in a clamp or pierced by knitting needles; as if brain pushing against shrinking skull; as if punched in the face, hands as if trodden on, limbs as if bruised from falling; brief rushes in teeth, ears, soles of feet, kidneys, clavicles, ribcage, abdomen, shoulder blades. Days and days of this, then slow and incremental relief.'

The pain seems like a counter-weight to the tiredness I return with, and an expression of it. Fatigue is dull, heavy, a shutting down of body, faculties, desire; pain seems loud, driven, alive. It screeches through my body. The span between the two is where the 'I' resides.


A hug is just what I need today, thank you! Writing is my survival skill. Can spend a whole day kneading a sentence into shape. Gives me purpose and validation. Occasionally it brings a moment of connection. Sending a gentle hug right back.

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