Trisha from Notes From The Fog has written a great post about fatigue:
“Fatigue is an invisible cloak made of rocks. It weighs on you, drags you down, pulls on your muscles until they ache, crying out for relief for freedom.”
Her words really resonated with me – the way it makes everything harder, bigger, more overwhelming.
“Fatigue is a ball and chain, restraining you, holding you back from the things you want to do, the places you want to go.”
And then I read this line:
“Fatigue is what turns a living human in to a zombie.”
I spend a lot of my time as a zombie. I have moments of normalness, but if I push myself too far I become a drooling, struggling mess that can’t cope. I can’t move properly, I can’t think, I can barely feel. Everything becomes overwhelming, especially people.
Yesterday morning I pushed myself way too far. I started out fine, but after two hours of driving I morphed into a zombie. A massage helped the myalgia but my brain was still malfunctioning and I was just so tired. I had to bail on my best friend. We had organised lunch, and she ran into some friends and invited them along. Normal Claire would have loved to see these people – I like them and they’re great company. Zombie Claire was devastated because I’d have to concentrate on more than one person and the conversation would be louder and quicker. No way. I didn’t even go into the cafe; I just went straight home in tears.
While it was a loss for my (almost extinct) social life, this was a win for reason; pushing myself when I am already tired is the height of stupidity. But the zombie was still in charge. When I got home I knew I had to rest, but the zombie didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts, so I watched some TV in bed – appropriately it was The Walking Dead. Because this isn’t ‘proper rest’ I got worse until I had a full-blown dysautonomia episode. Because zombies aren’t really aware of their bodies it took me about an hour before I clued in to what was happening and another half an hour until I remembered that I can do something about it. It only took 15 minutes of being in the recovery position with a heat pack alternating between my head and feet for me to recover from the dysautonomia attack and it cleared my head enough for me to realise I needed to rest properly. I even did a mini-meditation while I was on the floor.
Zombies are idiots.