On top of my careful eating and constant self-policing... I've cut my online time to the bone, to conserve neurotransmitters and wear and tear on my telomeres.
I'm moving to a sunnier flat, to improve vitamin D uptake and exposure to beneficial UV bands.
I've gotten a cat, to lower my bp and help stabilize my diurnal cycle. (They get stirred up and worried when you stay up past your bedtime. It's the cutest form of nagging ever.)
I'm doing my autogenic exercises as often as I can bear to, to bring my baseline level of overdrive down and begin to approach "normal".
For better or worse, I'm getting more closely in touch with what a "normal" state of relaxation really feels like -- and realizing how far from "normal" it is for me.
If I am as close to "normally" relaxed (or "normally" tense -- its the same thing) as I can get, I'm nonfunctional.
All I can do is lie there, bathed in the peaceful antitoxins of adequate tissue perfusion and a still mind. Getting up requires dropping that calm, because there just isn't enough energy there.
I'm far, far too tired to function as a normal person. My very cells are tired -- I can feel it when I let down this chemical structure of overdrive and tension. Their very organelles are tired. The vacuoles, I bet, are tired.
Why? I mean, weariness is all very well, but isn't this a little ridiculous?
Ridiculous it may be, but not irrational or inappropriate. Here's why, as far as I've thought it through.
- For one thing, pain is exhausting. An hour of pain is as wearying as an hour of running, but without the cardiovascular benefit or endorphins. Quite the opposite. And it never really stops.
- Moving the body with degraded muscles is hard work.
- Making decisions and doing the business of life (rent, bills, laundry, shopping) with a brain that flickers on and off... requires a lot of repeated trips and extra effort -- also tiring.
- Remember that list of JCAHO-rated crises I mentioned on my last post? That was a sample from the latest in a series of years, each of which was about as harrowingly difficult, in different ways. Truly, I had no idea that so many ghastly things, most far too protracted for Hollywood to use in even their most grueling work, could grind through one measly life.
So maybe I should give my weariness some credit. Maybe I should stop bitching about how I just can't get things done. Now that I'm trying to ratchet my ANS responses down from the stratosphere, maybe I shouldn't wonder that it's becoming hellishly difficult to get off the couch most of the time.
Maybe I should stop obsessing on my characteristic need to be productive.
Maybe it's finally time to stop ignoring the fact that I'm really damn TIRED, and put my attention on getting more rest.
That might be the most productive thing I could do.