Overtired, overused, OVERCOOKED…. and we’re off to a great start.

Happy New Year!… Better late than never right?

Today is the first ‘non holiday’ day of the holidays and finally marks a little break in time that I finally get all to myself with no planned events or necessary travel and with Mr. Mango back at work I get to sit down with my heat back, pain meds, coffee and computer. It’s a little complicated because I can’t quite sit upright properly…. but effort is being made.

It’s not that I’ve particularly overworked myself the last week like I had the weeks leading up to Christmas, it’s just that doing any amount of anything through such a rough flare is next to impossible. My job has simply been to not look like a corpse when having to be seen in public and to keep our home somewhere in between pig-sty and junk heap instead of going full out compost pile (my family is disgusting I tell you!). Even these task seem too daunting and I still look like the walking dead and feel like I’m living at the dump.

As if  the physical side effects of pushing myself too much and running into a massive flare up of bodily symptoms, my brain has decided to really become a major player. Something that I’m used to this time of year (with the holiday season winding down and SAD really kicking it up enough with so much winter left), but definitely not quite so abruptly. There are unfortunate reasons for it though, while most of my panic triggers I’ve learnt to avoid, negate or overcome for the most part, some are just a part of life.

My 90 year old grandfather has gone from bad to worse health wise and we’ve spent a lot of time discussing elderly health and life expectancy as well as spent a lot more time than usual in that dreaded wing of the hospital where they take him when shit gets bad. On NYE we got the bad news that he has a stage 3 heart block and is in need of a pacemaker. Now while that’s a pretty simple procedure, nothing is simple on a 90 year old and he already has a host of health problems and different medications that could alter the turn out. While we’ve been hashing out all the medical details, he’s actually been more lucid and talkative than he has been for the last couple years…. and he’s still witty and chalked full of pep enough to give me the “what the fuck are you doing here” face.

While many other people might just assume it’s surprise that we made the trip in from out of town or closer relatives would know it’s that it’s not doctor advised to be traveling or straining that much at the moment…. no, it’s because he knows what its doing/ going to do to my brain. Out of all the people on the planet, that man knows what is going on more than anyone. He was there babysitting when I had my first panic attack at 11, he was the one I came to throughout adolescence to discuss life, the end and all the fucked up mess that my brain couldn’t process and he’s seen how much I’ve struggled when the mental fuckery really takes hold.

Now you’d think he’d be happy to see us visit…. but no, he just gave pissed off face for about 2 good minutes because he knows the torture that is my panic disorder and the general anxiety that can come with it (and that subjects like mortality or being in care homes really are the worst of triggers). After that we had some kick ass conversation about asparagus, transplanting carrots and the best acrylic paints on the market (I’m pretty sure circa 1980 though).

Am I paying for it dearly? Hell yes. Do I regret it? Hell no….. but since I got the initial news, sleep has become a thing of the past and lack of sleep due to my brain being an asshole only makes the physical shit worse.

The one small piece of good cheer left from the holly jolly time of the year is enjoying  some OVERCOOKED with the man of the house. I’m stuck up all night anyways, but this game… well it forces him to be my late night company when it’s usually snoresville by 10pm if he isn’t playing something hack’n’smash or watching something with bewbs. This game is seriously addictive and entertaining and the fact that the Mr and I manage to co-op without killing each other actually speaks quite highly of our relationship, considering it’s many difficulties at times. Even with my busted hands I can manage to play half well (for someone who really lost all interest in all things console when ps4 replaced ps3 in our house).

It’s not much, but it’s something and for anyone with any sort of mental side-liners like anxiety or depression, we know how important it is to find something… ANYTHING that offers a little bit of distraction and entertainment.

Over the course of the next couple weeks I really hope to get back to more regular appearances on here (no promises though…. I’m done making new years resolutions), get all my updated tests done and results back and hopefully overcome this awful flare. At the very least maybe getting my hands on some horse tranquilizer to knock me out for a good few hours…. my body needs the break and I NEED THE SLEEP!


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