The fatigue hits without warning. I can have eight or nine hours of sleep, but it will make no difference. I’ll go to sleep tired and wake more tired than I was. I have trouble keeping my eyes open and have to fight to stay awake.
I’ll employ different means to stay awake from candy to music, expresso in my coffee in the morning to lots of chocolate. It keeps me awake during the day and candy and chocolate are always a good thing, right?
Those are the days where writing is most difficult for me. The words take forever to find their way out of my brain and onto the page. They’re inside, waiting to come out but it’s as if they are wrapped in a bubble that I can’t pop.
Those are the days where I forget things, where the wrong thing comes out of my mouth. Where I’m not clear on what I want to say and don’t know how to say it, where I’m easily distracted and forget what I was doing; but you know what? That’s okay.
For every day my brain is filled with sand, I’ll have a day where it will be clear, where I’m not fighting sleep or fatigue, where I’m myself again. I’ve learned that it’s a fine balance between the two and to relish the days where my brain is clear, where it’s functioning at full capacity.
On those days, I write to my hearts content. Not nearly as much as I used to write, but at least I’m writing.
On the days where the fatigue is at its highest, where my brain and body won’t let me do what I want to do, I relax. I read a book, I watch television. I engage in the art of relaxation.
I’ve learned that it’s pointless to get angry at myself or be frustrated by what I want to do but can’t. Instead, I just do other things I want to do that let my body have the rest it needs. I’ve realised that it’s still possible to do everything I want to do, just not all at once.
It may be a fine balance, but I’m living life and that is pretty awesome indeed.