Another week of achieving very little because I have had no spoons. I’ve had trouble getting out of bed every day, I’ve had three days out of seven when I was dependant on painkillers to get anything done and every time I clean the toilet I’m wiped out for the rest of the day.
I can’t tell if I’m still recovering from my trip round Falkland Palace and my journey to Dunfermline for a Mammogram or if it’s something else. Ah the old question – is it hormones, mental illness, or just the latest way for my body to fuck me over? do worry that it’s a sign of some kind of descent into depression.
I’m particularly worried because I have a thing that I need to write and I’m not writing it. I’ve done the research, I know what I want to say, I have the skills to say it and I’ve even sat down at the keyboard and started typing but the thing still isn’t written. Every time I start typing it feels like the ideas just run out of my ears while my attention is focused on the screen. If I can’t write then what is the point of me?
So did I spend the entire week procrastinating? Let’s find out.
Procrastination Watch
Ok so I didn’t write the essay that I wanted to write but I did write and edit a fair bit of my novel and even managed to fix a scene that was dragging a whole chapter down. I’m fairly pleased with the novel’s progress this week.
I finally got round to watching John Wick 2. Shut up, it counts. I write action scenes and that means I have to read and watch them. I also started listening to the Espionage podcast which is important research for the spy novel I’m currently working on.
I’ve been reading up on Functional Disorders. A friend sent me a copy of New Scientist Magazine with a lengthy article about them. These are medical disorders where a person is definitely experiencing genuine symptoms but the symptoms are being caused by the mind rather than the body. It’s one of those things that demonstrates just how wiggly the line between body and mind is. It’s important to note that Functional Disorders are different from Factitious Disorders (when the patient is consciously faking the symptoms) and that just because someone’s illness is hard to diagnose and treat and sounds kind of weird it doesn’t mean that it’s either Functional or Factitious.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do with all this research. Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot. I certainly have both opinions and ideas but I’m not ready to share them because they are bound to piss off both patient groups and doctors.
Will I write the thing? Will I express my dangerous opinions? Will my novel ever be finished Will I find any more spoons? You’ll just have to come back next Sunday to find out.
If you’re disapointed at how not entertaining this post has been why not check out one of my older posts. Here’s a link to one about relationships and farting. And if you want to cheer me up you can buy me a coffee with Ko-fi.