It’s a combination of tiredness. Fibromyalgia tiredness is undoubtedly one of them, as my shoulder blade has started aching again and my right foot is crunching every time I move it; a sure sign that I’m flaring. Activity-tiredness as well; although I haven’t done much, S came to visit me, and even though we only talked as I lay in bed, it sometimes wears me out just making the effort to speak. Add illness-tiredness to that list (I’ve been on antibiotics over the past few days, vomiting and nursing a killer migraine), and so I can’t pinpoint exactly what is making me feel so lethargic.
I suppose it doesn’t matter, to most people. It does to me though… after being so out of control when it comes to my health, I feel like I need to have a concrete reason for everything.
So even though I had planned to do a lot of writing today, the temptation to go to bed is much stronger. I know I won’t fall asleep; anxiety over a lack of knock-out pills (confession time; I found two packets of 30mg codeine in my mum’s bedroom. I’ve taken all but two of them over the past few days, losing myself in a sleepy, confused, comfortable haze) will keep me awake for a while. Somehow, low-fat Ovaltine and chain-smoking is nowhere near a suitable substitute for opiates.
Still, I’m not unhappy. Being visited by S has made my week. I managed to convince myself (again) he would leave me because I’m always ill, but he cycled miles through the hottest day of the year, just to sit on my bed and hold my hand. So no. I’m not unhappy.