Metamorphosis. 

Cats, Dreams, Happiness, Insanity, MS, Why aren't I Patti Smith?

Dearest reader. Hey! Down here. I’ve transmogrified into a field mouse, you see. I’m typing this by daintily pirouetting across the keyboard. All is good. Although I’m wary of the beloved cat and his inbuilt and entirely natural intentions toward his now rodenty mistress. But apart from that tiniest of concerns, all is well! It’s nice scuffling about the place, occasionally emitting joyful squeaks on catching glimpses of my totally adorable little paws, nose and whiskers – whiskers! – in any passable reflective surface. Having whiskers is awesome, I tell you. No more crashing into door-frames for yours truly! 

You’re probably wondering, and why not, what?!?! And, indeed, how?!?!

All I can tell you is that, th’other morn’, post D leaving for work, I awoke to find myself cozily curled up, under duvet, at bottom of bed. transformed in my bed into a tiny rodere. 

My small mousey brain seems to lack the will or capacity to ponder the predicament I find myself in. 

Life is all delight. I nap, I nibble. I read. What a charm it is to scamper over pages, using my Lilliputian nose to follow my place – word by word, sentence by sentence – my savvy tail to turn the pages. 

What a darling image I’ve painted for you! 

 
*Yawns adorably. Stretching out her tiny, tiny mouse arms. Seriously. So cute.*

Squeak!**
**Fin!

Is this madness or am I just tired?

Dissolving into liquid sky, Dreams, Fatigue, Insanity, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Wasting the day

Feeling this amount of tired all the time is making me feel slightly, on the verge of, insanity. Is it even real or a piece of fiction I’ve cunningly manufactured to manipulate people into doing stuff for me? Or allowing me to live the lazy life I’ve always craved?  

 
I can’t even figure out how I’m feeling right now. 

So. Amantadine: no effect yet. Acupuncture: no effect yet. MitoQ: no effect yet. Spirulina: no effect yet. Etcetera etcetera. 

Have you spotted a pattern? Yes? Well done! Nothing fucking works. I’m immune to wakefulness! I’m being a drama queen! Giving into my tendency for hyperbole! Forgive me. 

Do I need to just accept that I’m one of the three out of four people with MS that are afflicted by fatigue? Maybe. Or, do I need to accept that I am inherently more suited to leisure than useful activity? Such as weeding, for example. 

On days like today, when the sky is clear and blue, and the only sound is a gentle breeze rustling the leaves on the trees, fatigue puts me into an almost dreamlike state. The world seems a little unreal: colours a little brighter; time a little slower; life woozy and liquid. As if I could dissolve right into it.