There is a special dialectic in my life:
Although I arranged the circumstances that way, that next to nothing happens in it, this is still too intense for me.
What do I conclude from this? That I have my level (currently Bellscore again 10 – 15, that. 23h bedridden) could not hold at all, because i have the charms, that I have cleared out and the outer life, that I exclude, haunt me as inner stimuli. Seen in this way, pacing is not a cure for me. The little, that I perceive permanently in my cell, I take condensed,enlarged, distorted true. My reactions to any kind of sensual stimulus are disproportionate. A life on such a small scale, in such a narrow catchment area, makes the funnel, through which the perceptions flow, unfiltered, only further. How could it be otherwise?, so without contrast? Everything implodes! Everything, what is lacking in balance and exchange, flows back into you in the opposite direction and pours over you as a stimulus from within! You are unthinkably unsuitable, embody a disease, which calls for abstinence from strength on all levels, if you like to live intensely. Not just physically. Emotionally and mentally too, one must not come to life!
I remember, how I was tormented by existential pressure again and again in my youth; Thoughts of annihilation with no precise shape haunted me out of nowhere, pounding my body for hours at times. These pointless annihilation attacks were so strong, that I thought sometimes: these thoughts will kill me one day.
At the latest when I got very physically ill, was this fear, I could put myself under pressure, Killing excessive awareness, as good as silted up.
I don't like to say it, because I don't want to psychopathologize myself. But: the pressure of life, in which I as a child and adolescent with disabilities, Dyscalculia and dyslexia, among others. grew into it, became flesh and blood in my adulthood.
With ME I have acquired a disease with all kinds of extreme perceptions / one-sided personality traits etc.. can lead to the need for care and to disruption.
In my case it is even clear, that my personality prevents it, that I can ever stabilize myself physically.
The area, in which living / perceiving is not further destroyed in severe ME is so insignificantly short, small and tight, that it almost borders on mutilation to have to remain within such a stub of possibilities. In any case, I can't let this stub spoil me. Even without alcohol, output, Job annoyance etc., what that “healthy” Life has everything in stock, I can't freeze, as it should be, I wanted to have a chance to persevere / stabilize.
My organism is pulling the boundaries away with it, even if, when I'm lying motionless. In other words: also, if now my life has come to a standstill again, Nothing in me adheres to the safety regulations, which apply to Playing Dead Syndrome / Myalgic Encephalomyelitis.
A diabetic should not eat sugar! He does, he is in danger, to die of a sugar shock.
A sufferer of myalgic encephalomyelitis must not live / feel in extremes! He does that, he is in danger, to activate the pathological malfunctions permanently, To be in need of care and possibly to die.
I COULD SPIT ON THIS FACT, I COULD SPIT IN ANGER.
The Depression, they say, is a natural protective measure at ME. It leads to it, that one by fainting, Shit, hopelessness, Low-Neurotransmitter etc. shuts down the organism and lies in emptiness. And, but what depression is it? The classic, I assume, in which the mood and the self-reference go flute,
where the feeling dies, that strange clinical depression, that I found in the clinics, and which made those affected appear to me as gnomes…..
I do not think so, that I can ever die like this. My depression is the death of ME, because in her I feel the emotional pain of my circumcision increased a hundredfold by the ME. I have a “healthy” Depression, a depression, where I cry by the liter.
The last howling of approx. Three hours on two evenings each led to a massive click-out of the immune system. Since then my skin has been burning like fire again, the muscles are at the finest ramifications (Collarbone, solar plexus) seized by permanent debris avalanches, over the costal arch (who moved convulsively in the howling) lies poured out and trodden down: hot cement.
I think, I still have a number of healthy resources. It's just a shame, that she is suffering from an illness, which cannot be surpassed in perfidy,
are life-threatening.
(18.2.2021)