In the Still of the…Day?

The last two nights I went to bed without taking a Stilnox – not quite at the time demanded by my evil doctor, but not too late either. Then today (or yesterday, as it is 3.25am) I cannot go to sleep at all. It got to about 2am (without a yawn) before I thought that I’d give up on a natural night’s sleep tonight and take a tablet – now where did I put that itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, one-and-only-one-left tablet…

Think sitcom dream sequence ripple effect across the screen:

Earlier on today, I was cleaning up my kitchen after it was covered in blue frosting and chocolate cake mix from my attempt at cupcakes, when I moved the super-duper, giant size tablet dosette. There, hidden behind the huge, white container,  was a little white tablet – shit! one of the 15 or 16 (depending on the day) tablets that I take daily each morning had escaped. Quick mouthful of water and I forgot all about it.

Back to my computer for some internet surfing…I began feeling incredibly nauseous and my water bottle was empty. Up, I had to get, to get a refill from the tap. Ooooh…the house is moving. Suddenly, my surroundings become a carnival fun-house ride – the floor is undulating up and down, tipped from side to side, and forward and back, by my weight. This wasn’t just a feeling – I was literally falling over.

So, despite my best intentions, I was desperately in need of a nap and I took myself off to bed at 3.30pm.

At about 6.15, my brother called, waking me out of a very deep sleep, to let me know he was 15 minutes away from picking me up for my warm water class. Holy Cow!

The 32 degree (celsius) water felt cold against my skin. The water wasn’t lifting away the dead weight of fibromyalgia, like it did every other week. When we leaned against the side of the pool to cycle our legs, I would have fallen off my bike; my legs were moving so slowly. Laying back to float in the water, I almost returned to dreamland.

Now, at exactly 3.54am, I know why all that happened…AND I know why I can’t find that damn itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, one-and-only-one-left tablet…

The Purpose of Life is a Life of PURPOSE

– Robert Byrne

In 2008, I hit depression and it hit me back – in fact, it sucked the air out of my lungs, swept my legs out from under me, vacuumed my head of any reasonable thoughts and sat me, quite firmly, on my arse! Supposedly, this was all brought on because I was working full-time in the casino (an intrinsically depressing place at the best of times), while studying part-time for my law degree.

Anyway, at the time, I thought it was because I had no PURPOSE – I was stuck. I had 3 years to go with my degree. I had a mortgage. I couldn’t really look for a meaningful change in career quite yet.

I stuck it out (with a couple of extended pauses in there) and graduated with Honours (just HAD to put that in here!) at the end of 2010. I thought that the noble profession of law would be my PURPOSE.

Well, I only got to practice for one month before my body said: “Tee Hee, ready for the next hurdle?”

So, here I am.

Under legislation, I am not allowed to practice unsupervised for 2 years, but it seems that I can’t work for some-one because I can’t be relied upon for scheduled work days/times. My employer has been very considerate and co-operative in regards to my condition. We have tried different combinations (eg: 3 hours x 3 days per week in the afternoons, working on the weekend when there are no distractions or noise, working late at night when I seem to be less distracted) however none of these have worked on a consistent basis. I cannot envisage how I can maintain employment with this thing called FIBROMYALGIA.

So, once again, I am confronted by what my PURPOSE might be…

Getting up at 6.30am (doctor’s orders) is mighty difficult when there is no reason to be up at that time. Sitting on the couch until my mother can pick me up to take me out is hardly meaningful. Scheduling when to shower so I have enough energy to walk to my doctor’s appointment is not inspiring. Playing with my nieces and nephews will not change the world.

Now, that’s it. My psychologist and I were chatting last week about this topic. She said maybe my legacy would be via my nieces and nephew? But, to me, that’s not good enough – I want to do something big. I NEED to do something worthwhile (not that the kids aren’t worthwhile). I want to DO something, like discover penicillin or change laws.

Hmmm…I do have an idea for a round thing that revolves on an axle and is fixed to another object to enable it to move over the ground?