Chronic fatigue syndrome can be confusing at times.
Like most illnesses, probably.
Some days, I feel like I can go to the beach, shop for hours, run in the mountains, and dance with my friends. I feel like I swim hundreds of 500s on those days, too. Others, I feel like I’ve been in a near-fatal accident and I am literally bound to my bed. It’s a toss-up.
Today is one of those near-fatal accident days. My head is tilting forward gradually and my back is curled, begging me to lay my face flat on my desk and just sleep now. I want to go home, slick off all my makeup, put on some clean pajamas, close the blinds, and allow my body to rapidly fall into a coma.
In fact, I just found the nurse’s office, which didn’t have a bed or cot I could lay down in for a little while (damn!) but there was a sort of comfy chair so I sat down there and passed out for like, 25 minutes. And I do feel slightly better.
However, nothing feels better than laying in bed.
I could talk about it for hours.
And I fucking hate it.
I don’t know if anyone ever mentions that there’s a serious drawback of sleeping too much: you rarely, if ever, feel refreshed. So that 7 hour nap you just took on a Saturday afternoon following the regular 9 hours of sleep you got at night? Does you ZERO good. You will still feel like a walking corpse. Or worse: a depressed walking corpse.
I don’t like missing out on what’s going on in the world while I’m sleeping, but the only other alternative is being awake, experiencing whatever thing you’re doing with almost no knowledge of what’s going on, and wishing you were back in bed the entire time.
So, I guess you could say I don’t like being awake. Sleeping is fine. It’s the actual getting out of bed shit that’s frustrating as hell.