Phase one is getting out of bed. My body moves slowly and my mind wants to stay wrapped up in the warmth of my blankets forever. Phase two is finding something to do. I blob along from room to room. It takes me hours to get ready for the “day” to start. I feast on cornflakes and water because I am too lazy and tired to get milk. I like how it doesn’t taste very good. It seems appropriate. I am deserving of this food. It also lays a base for the ibuprofen I take because I have headaches every day.
This IS what I got up to today and most of the days lately. Getting out of my pyjamas, into the shower and then into clean clothes IS what I have done. God forbid I have to wash my hair or go outside and be around others.
Phase three is getting back into my pyjamas. I lounge around in layers and layers of clothes because it is so cold. When I decide it is time to go to bed I am suddenly very awake, however fatigued I feel. I find myself hula hooping in my living room or watching videos online because I know that the final part of my day is always the hardest.
I lie in bed with my eyes watering because I am exhausted but I cannot get to sleep. Everything I hate, all of the memories which haunt me and all of my inadequacies lie in bed with me. I draw on every skill and visualisation exercise I have acquired over the years but all I can do is toss and turn for hours until it is time for phase one again.