My last two massages have made me realize I am holding on to more in my body than I realized. I usually enjoy my massages, but with gentle to medium pressure I wanted to scream and cry. And not from ecstatic joy.
Either that or I need to get retested for CFS and fibromyalgia. Last time I was 6 out of 9 pain points and CFS runs in my family on my mom’s side, but we all know how seriously pain is taken when Black women talk about chronic pain. The brain fog could be just related to insomnia. I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. And pretending to be normal.
All this health shit makes it really hard to put any energy into other things, like doing my taxes and filling out applications to a sickening degree. After one, I’m like “Done! Time for the Star Trek series of the day (or Bones, or something on Netflix)” but I am trying to keep the tv off until after dinner, so I’m finding podcasts to listen to. The latest is Bookburners (also available in print) by some of my fave authors — Max Gladstone, Mur Lafferty, and … that train of thought is permanently derailed.
