I promise I am not a threat to myself or others. I am, however, fast falling to pieces.
I sleep poorly these days, which makes wearing a sleep mask awful challenging. Let night, as I tried to fall asleep about 1, I just started crying.
Earlier this week, I gave up trying to play Dungeons & Dragons online with relatives because I couldn't hear. Mostly, I felt like I was letting down my nieces and nephews.
It is not like they don't know about the limitations of Friedreich's ataxia -- the niece I live with came in as I was getting ready for a shower. I'm beyond that, she told Mom about me getting undressed.
It's just I don't like them to see the limitations.
Work is hard.
And I'm scared.
Wednesday, April 29, 2020
Saturday, April 25, 2020
Future's not so bright
One of my jobs these days is to maintain pages of Covid-19 pages on our Intranet. I don't have to find content, just post what I am told to.
Normally, I just post stuff and don't read or watch, but Friday I watched a video I was asked to post on helping be less anxious.
One tip was think about the future.
Maybe I am doing it wrong, but the future is a big part of my anxiety.
For instance, I don't see going back to the office for ages, if ever.
I rely on co-workers if I fall or to get me or Fame water. None of that is possible if we need to contemplate Covid-19: me infecting them or vice versa.
That's assuming I don't die.
Normally, I just post stuff and don't read or watch, but Friday I watched a video I was asked to post on helping be less anxious.
One tip was think about the future.
Maybe I am doing it wrong, but the future is a big part of my anxiety.
For instance, I don't see going back to the office for ages, if ever.
I rely on co-workers if I fall or to get me or Fame water. None of that is possible if we need to contemplate Covid-19: me infecting them or vice versa.
That's assuming I don't die.
Saturday, April 18, 2020
Matty named pharaoh
My last post was more than a month ago.
I haven't died and am not sick -- physically.
Things are still happening that I want to write about. I'm still cheating death and the recipient of incredible help.
... but ...
Writing makes me think, and thinking makes me want to curl up in bed and close my eyes and wait for this situation to be over. Of course, that'll be ages for me if indeed it ever ends. Or maybe my body becomes too used to teleworking and can't go back to office physically, See what I mean about thinking?
My headshrinker said this was denial (Get it? The king of "da nile" or pharaoh). I totally disagree, but since I haven't seen her in more than a month either, I can't rebut this.
Notice I don't say "curl up in bed and sleep."
As I know it is for many these days, sleep is elusive for me. But when I can't sleep, my legs tend to start jumping.
Last night is a good example of a story to tell, a brush with death and help.
Because I decided standing up would be dangerous, when my left leg started to jump last night, I tried to sit up in bed. Emphasis on tried.
I sat up and immediately fell over and not to the left, which means onto the bed, which isn't super-safe. Last night I fell to the right, which meant all that kept me from a tumble was my chair, and it isn't real comfortable to fall into my wheelchair. It was less so because my right arm was trapped under me, and I feared any attempt to free it would send me off the bed.
But I had noticed lights on out in the living room -- maybe my sister or brother in law was still up -- so I had Fame bark. She did, but I didn't hear anyone coming. I was starting to consider my next move when Fame ran to the door, her tell that someone is coming.
It was my niece. My nephew was a little behind her.
After learning I was OK but stuck, she offered me her arm and when that didn't work, just pulled me up.
There was much laughter throughout, especially when she told me she was mostly worried I'd be dead.
I guess I shouldn't worry when I have such people watching out for me. But I'm not turning in my pharaoh's robes.
I haven't died and am not sick -- physically.
Things are still happening that I want to write about. I'm still cheating death and the recipient of incredible help.
... but ...
Writing makes me think, and thinking makes me want to curl up in bed and close my eyes and wait for this situation to be over. Of course, that'll be ages for me if indeed it ever ends. Or maybe my body becomes too used to teleworking and can't go back to office physically, See what I mean about thinking?
My headshrinker said this was denial (Get it? The king of "da nile" or pharaoh). I totally disagree, but since I haven't seen her in more than a month either, I can't rebut this.
Notice I don't say "curl up in bed and sleep."
As I know it is for many these days, sleep is elusive for me. But when I can't sleep, my legs tend to start jumping.
Last night is a good example of a story to tell, a brush with death and help.
Because I decided standing up would be dangerous, when my left leg started to jump last night, I tried to sit up in bed. Emphasis on tried.
I sat up and immediately fell over and not to the left, which means onto the bed, which isn't super-safe. Last night I fell to the right, which meant all that kept me from a tumble was my chair, and it isn't real comfortable to fall into my wheelchair. It was less so because my right arm was trapped under me, and I feared any attempt to free it would send me off the bed.
But I had noticed lights on out in the living room -- maybe my sister or brother in law was still up -- so I had Fame bark. She did, but I didn't hear anyone coming. I was starting to consider my next move when Fame ran to the door, her tell that someone is coming.
It was my niece. My nephew was a little behind her.
After learning I was OK but stuck, she offered me her arm and when that didn't work, just pulled me up.
There was much laughter throughout, especially when she told me she was mostly worried I'd be dead.
I guess I shouldn't worry when I have such people watching out for me. But I'm not turning in my pharaoh's robes.
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