I don't know what in my days has lead me to read and write less these days.
I don't know if it's the doing of that devil called age but I do feel a constant weight of fatigue. Maybe it is being ill for months now that is taking a toll. Small things. A fever that keeps coming back, a cough that won't go, puffed eyes in the morning, a back that misbehaves.
But they all add up and at the end of the day, when I am finally back home, I feel like every ounce of air has been sucked out of me.A nap may help, I think and I get onto my hard bed. I stopped using pillows because of the back. So I hug a bolster and sleep-often through dinner time, often in work clothes and wake up feeling like I've just finished walking a mile.
Fatigue is cyclical, I have discovered and it feeds on itself to remain alive.
I, too, have stopped fighting it these days and I am afraid this is what I have become.
Sometimes when I look at the mirror I imagine the skin around my eyes to be darker than my cheeks.I also feel the circle around my mouth is turning darker. Twenty-five is no age at all, I tell myself and a small part of me acknowledges the sinking feeling that drive women to try out tubes and bottles of foul smelling creams.
I don't know what it is that is doing this. If it is age, fatigue, disinterest or just plain laziness.
Truth be told, I don't like it one bit. I miss cooking and I miss going to run.I miss being active.
And I hate the feeling of sitting at a party and realising that I don't like parties.
I don't know if it's the doing of that devil called age but I do feel a constant weight of fatigue. Maybe it is being ill for months now that is taking a toll. Small things. A fever that keeps coming back, a cough that won't go, puffed eyes in the morning, a back that misbehaves.
But they all add up and at the end of the day, when I am finally back home, I feel like every ounce of air has been sucked out of me.A nap may help, I think and I get onto my hard bed. I stopped using pillows because of the back. So I hug a bolster and sleep-often through dinner time, often in work clothes and wake up feeling like I've just finished walking a mile.
Fatigue is cyclical, I have discovered and it feeds on itself to remain alive.
I, too, have stopped fighting it these days and I am afraid this is what I have become.
Sometimes when I look at the mirror I imagine the skin around my eyes to be darker than my cheeks.I also feel the circle around my mouth is turning darker. Twenty-five is no age at all, I tell myself and a small part of me acknowledges the sinking feeling that drive women to try out tubes and bottles of foul smelling creams.
I don't know what it is that is doing this. If it is age, fatigue, disinterest or just plain laziness.
Truth be told, I don't like it one bit. I miss cooking and I miss going to run.I miss being active.
And I hate the feeling of sitting at a party and realising that I don't like parties.
