I’m obeying what my body is telling me, and sleeping. A lot. It’s strange, ‘cause not too long ago the issue was insomnia. Now it’s what I’m calling hypersomnia!

I think improvements in diet, and more/better exercise would probably help re-invigorate me. But, for the immediate time being, what I actually want to do, is heed my body (and mind, for that matter), and rest.

After the enervating soul-crushing experiences of the last year plus, I’m a different person than I was before all of that. For better or worse. Rest and sleep are – as far as I can tell – an essential part of recovery.

And yet contemporary life seems designed to induce guilt at such a state of affairs. I don’t think I should feel guilt or shame for wanting to rest and recover. Yet I do. Not a great deal. But enough for it to be irksome and counterproductive, in terms of the need to relax, as part of healing.

I guess, whilst life is far from either perfect, or even what I may have hoped for, I’m quite lucky in some respects. One of those being that, unlike many in our current society, the depth of my servitude, or the grip society has over me, is – by comparison- at times/in ways, quite loose.

To state it simply, and although it comes with very heavy costs, I have a certain amount of freedom. At least in theory. Perpetual total exhaustion currently rendering it a bit redundant! But at least I have the option, right now, to take the rest I seem so desperately to need.

I’ve been mostly sleeping now, as I do most nights at present, for about 12 hours a night/day. Often more. What I’m hoping for is recovery. There’s so much I want/need to do. But I can’t do it with no fuel in the tank (never mind no money in the bank!).

I’m taking a pal, Patrick, to a gig, tonight. He’ll pay for my ticket and petrol, etc. I’d prefer not to need him to do so. But needs must! In the meantime, I’ve tried, without success, to book some more delivery work. Truth be told I’m glad no shifts have come my way. As I’m so totally and utterly washed out!

I don’t even have the energy to read, nor even to watch anything! And I’m not looking forwards to being out late tonight. I like to be in bed by 8pm, nowadays.

The only thing I’m planning to do – aside from a few minor chores (buying a new toothbrush, getting some stuff for Teresa) – is have an English Breakfast brunch at Tesco, around midday.

Oh, and – not that I particularly want to discuss this ‘publicly’ – total exhaustion means loss of libido. In some ways this is helpful, as I have next to no ways of satisfying my normal perma-priapism. But in others it’s depressing.

Life, eh!?

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