Everybody Hurts

Fatigue is like a sickness, or maybe it’s a curse, or perhaps it can be both. I’m not sure. It seems like there are some people who don’t really experience these feeling of being deadened, of all of the extra effort required to do anything and everything not covered by anything, of constantly yawning, and waking up thinking about when you’ll next get the chance to sleep and then not being able to get to sleep and stay asleep at bedtime, of wanting to make yourself realise later how dreadful you felt (indeed how you always feel, every time) when you woke up – or perhaps that should be when you decided to get out of bed, for waking up at waking up time is a rarity – but, in the back of your mind, knowing that even if you could communicate how terrible it is to feel the full force of the debilitating effects of never getting a good sleep when it’s around bedtime it wouldn’t really matter: in the back of your mind you would know that it makes no difference, you don’t sleep well, and will always be tired and that’s the way it is and going to bed half an hour early would make no difference.

That’s a desperate thing to admit. But it’s true. In my case It doesn’t really matter what I do – I will always sleep poorly during the week, and hope to make up the debt with better sleep on the weekend. And that fact alone – that it is an easier and more successful enterprise to sleep for me on the weekend highlights an important truth. The majority of the problem is about tension; that when I know there’s nothing I need to be up for the next day, no obligation at all, that I have the best chance of feeling better rested. If that were not the case, I would have the occasional killer sleep during the working week, which would surprise me and I’d probably annoy people by telling them about it so much and at such great length. But that doesn’t happen. Some are better than others, but they are all pretty bad. And I think this also puts into context exactly what the physical ramifications of planned social activities on the weekend can have. It doesn’t suit me to have too many of these, but when it seems like there are several commitments on consecutive weekends, I just start to not cope with the strain.

So now keeping my eyes open is a bit too much of a chore, and my arms hurt a bit from writing this, not that it’s any good, and the two or three duties that will need to be done this week seem like the most onerous and terrible commitments. In effect this feeling injures the present and the near future – you focus on the next time when you may truly rest, and when that is interfered with you panic a bit, and this makes you think back to other times when you couldn’t get your relieving respite, and so that damages your view of the past, and past, present and future all multiply each other into a hopeless singularity, and you’re tired and you’re back hurts and your neck hurts and your shoulders hurt.

A weekend soon would be nice.

Published in: on October 6, 2010 at 7:21 pm  Leave a Comment  

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