Ok, so...I guess there's really not a whole lot to say about the procedure itself. Gallium goes in, gamma rays come out. On the whole, it's very similar to getting an MRI, only without all the clanging, and only your head is in the tube -- well, more like a rotating triangle in this case. I swear there was only a few millimeters clearance between the end of my nose and the plane of the "camera", though. I couldn't help wondering what they do if they have a patient with a larger nose/head.
To clarify what I said earlier, I
do talk to my therapist about all of this; I probably didn't phrase that very well. He knows what my symptoms are at the moment -- ex. that I have what they, in the business, call "dark thoughts" -- I just haven't spelled those out in complete detail.
As far as my family goes, it's true that I maintain more of an "arm's length" with them. Partly that's for their own sake. My mother, in particular, worries about me ... well, more than I worry about myself probably. I just don't think it would be a good idea to validate those fears. I don't think she could handle that. But more to the point, I'm not that noble; it's just as much about me not being able to handle her being completely freaked out on top of everything else. There are some things I just don't think she needs to know about because it wouldn't do either of us any good.
Anyway, at the moment I'm actually doing relatively okay. Certainly better than last week or two weeks ago. I've had a bad bout of insomnia the last few weeks, which is unusual even for me. It does happen sometimes, but I tend more towards the hypersomnia end of the sleep disturbance spectrum in general. This has not made things better at all. On my best days, I'm chronically fatigued. Add continuous sleep deprivation to the mix and things get particularly ugly. Thankfully I finally managed to actually get one whole day off last weekend, so I was able to get some damn rest at last.
I'm just really run ragged. With a handful of exceptions, I've been working 7 days a week for about a year now. And not just that, I mean brutal, back-breaking labor on the weekend and, often enough, 12+ hour days at the office at a job that just ... ****
everything about it. Yeah, 1st world problems, eh? I know. But it's killing me all the same. Every part of my life is basically owned by someone else. All that belongs to me are a few hours, the leftover dregs of days, when I'm too utterly exhausted to do anything. And that might not even be so unbearable if ... well, as Andrew Solomon wrote in "The Noonday Demon":
Quote:
Like physical pain that becomes chronic, it is miserable not so much because it is intolerable in the moment as because it is intolerable to have known it in the moments gone and to look forward only to knowing it in the moments to come.
In other news, I'm thinking about appropriating my father's old road bike. No promises, but I'm going to
try to get more exercise. Which is to say, > 0. I'm damn sure not going to take up jogging, but I did take up cycling a bit some 12 years ago and found it at least tolerable.