Question:
Thanks Wombn, Really appreciated 
Regards Michael
Response:
No, you didn’t upset me, Michael. I’m glad to hear you’re dealing with this. Trying to relax. You deserve it! I hope you get all the rest you need. -Lisa
Response:
? Michael
I’ve been diagnosed by two doctors with chronic fatigue syndrome, but other than being chronically fatigued, I’m not sure I agree with them. Maybe we’re just bored. Geni
Response:
Yes. In fact, that was the only diagnosis I had for a couple of years…. until the physical exhaustion was over, but not the emotionnal one. THEN they diagnosted me with depression. Love, ~Ann – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – ? Michael
Response:
: Michael, : : As I said, my exhaustion has been related to underlying medical problems. I : have had exhaustion from being a full-time Mom and working full-time with : chronic fatigue from fibromyalgia. That feeling that I couldn’t do anything : more mentally or physically. I remember getting almost to where my car was : parked at work, realizing that my keys were on my desk, and bursting into : tears at the thought of having to go back for them. It was just too much. I : was crying by late afternoon almost every day just from the effort of : living. Mental fog from the stress of pushing myself. Medication (Elavil or : Flexeril) to improve the quality of my sleep helped. : : I’ve also had heat exhaustion a couple of times. A very similar feeling. : Just couldn’t move. Didn’t want to. Very confused. Didn’t care too much. A : very dangerous place to be. Thanks Lisa, I’m sorry if my question upset you in any way, I hope it didn’t : : I hope you feel better soon, Michael. Do you know what caused your : exhaustion? I think it’s a combination of factors Lisa. But I would have to point my accusatory finger at caring for my mother over the past few years. It’s difficult to care for someone full time especially if you really love them. Also rescuing them from their numerous attempted suicides (I would find her hanging, overdosed, alcoholic poisoning etc) her mental illness (split personality) her being confined to bed (22 years) and her continual state of drug induced stupor’s, plus her successful suicide in March and my grandmothers death (bereavement – yuck). There’s also my accompanying decline and ongoing depression that was, up until recently minimal and controllable, plus I have never stopped to address any issues of my past until recently (abuse, alcohol etc) I guess I found myself overwhelmed. But HEY!!! for the first time ever, I’m relaxing and that’s worth a lot I feel pretty damn good considering, although I am reeling still but time will help. Thanks again Lisa, really appreciated. Michael
Response:
: : I don’t know, Michael. There are so many things that could be going : on here that it’s hard to isolate any one thing. I’m nodding my head in agreement Nina, the problem is there’s a mix of things going on and trying to separate each problem into it’s respective individual pigeon hole is difficult and that’s basically the gist of the problem. Before the Prozac I wasn’t swinging in one axis, it wasn’t just depression swinging left to right but exhaustion swinging back and forth and a number of other "problems" all of which swung in their respective spaces, and all together they just blurred what was going on. Fortunately the Prozac has acted like a giant hand grasping these erratic pendulums thus preventing them from moving. Now that I’m not clinically confused (vbg) I’m able to separate this tangle of strings into their individual enteritis. : First of all, the above paragraph really sounds a lot like what I was : describing in my initial response to this. I’m getting bored to death : following you around ASD and saying "wow, that sounds exactly like : me", but it does. And I haven’t found any real solution to it other : than what your doctor said… wait, and try not to beat yourself up : over it. But I am incredibly impatient, and I hate waiting, and I do : beat myself up over it. So if you find any answers, PLEASE let me : know. I’m working on it as we speak. As soon as I find the answer I shall telephone you to give you the good news. Do you think we could be long lost relations? I too am bored reading your posts and thinking "errr…yep, I know what she’s saying". : But the other thing here… You’ve had an incredibly traumatic few : years, to say the least. When we really have to, we function and : function, and then, sometimes, when that thing that forces the : functioning is taken away, we simply collapse. There are parts of : this that are very like PTSD, and sometimes, the absence of that : strain is actually worse, in a short-term way, than its presence. And : it takes time, often, for these symptoms to appear, and even longer : for them to go away. Okay, grab a coffee and make yourself comfortable. This goes off on a tangent so please bear with me The doctor told me that I was suffering with post traumatic stress disorder. I have a little insight into PTSD and I can understand the similarities between what I’ve been through and what I’m presently going through. Bev mentioned something about something similar to PTSD but having it’s roots less in the traumatic side of PTSD and more in the stress side of PTSD, from what little Bev said, that made sense. It wasn’t until I went to see a psychologist that she made me realize that I was in fact human. Up until then I had been completely ignorant of what was actually happening and of what had gone before me. It wasn’t until she forced me to look at myself, where I was and more importantly where I was going (I was heading towards death) that did I realize that I could now recognize, acknowledge and label these deeply rooted unacceptable behaviors that were me. She did me a good turn, she forced (no lesser word will suffice), she forced me to take a long hard look at myself and peel away the layers of protection that were actually preventing the fresh air reaching the wound. The problem is this: I am now able to accept that things have been stressful and that what has happened these past 35 years is in fact unhealthy. But I’m having great difficulty moving on from that. It’s like continually opening the wound so that I can justifiably remain in this hypothetical hospital bed that has become my life these past few years. I need to let go, I need to move on because I’m now suffering hypothetical bed sores. And yet good intentions glow away only to be doused by the bucket of sand that is me feeling sorry for myself. I need to reeducate myself as how to get back into that god-awful thing called society. I know some people may think I’m being unnecessarily harsh on myself, but it begs the question "just how much longer am I going to sit here?". Oh well…..yet again I’ve rabbled on too much. Love Michael
Response:
: I think one of two things is happening, Michael. Most likely is that : your body is sending you a message. It needs to slow down and chill : for a while. I’ve been reading, slowly, the book "Transforming : Depression" by David H. Rosen, and one of the things he says is that : depression is better thought of as part of a creative cycle, where the : body needs to slow down and pull in on itself to recharge. It’s like : plants going dormant during the winter. A lot of plants need that : dormant period in order to continue functioning in a healthy manner. : But I know how you feel. I’m impatient too. But I have a feeling : that I need to learn this lesson of giving myself a break before I can : make any progress. Maybe you do too. Guilt and Psychology. You know something Melissa, your post reminded me of something. I have just written a reply to Nina about my visits to a psychologist. What happened was my doctor became concerned that I was actually eating myself to death, what really concerned him was that my attempted efforts at my own gradual demise were with my full knowledge, I was deliberately trying to eat myself to death and yet I never thought of my behavior as being strange. After approximately forty to fifty visits to the psychologist I began to accept that what I was going through and what I had been through were not in fact normal everyday events, but were actually (to quote the Pdoc) Deaths…. She didn’t mean people dying but deaths as major events in my life that had taken their toll upon me. Up until then I had never looked at myself with any detail whatsoever – I was the ultimate living incarnation of denial. I will never forget the day she posed the question "what if a friend came up to you and told you his life story and told you all the details about what he had been through and what he was going through" (she then went into detail, listing a number of events). I looked at her and said " If any of my friends told me that – I would cry my damn heart out for them" she looked at me and said "Yes but that’s you – that’s you I’ve just described". It then hit me like a train striking a buffer at high speed, that I had done such a good job of surviving that I was now totally incapable of feeling anything whatsoever. And this is the problem Melissa, accepting what has happened, happened to me. I remember telling the bereavement councilor about the past fifteen years, and as I revealed all I started to cry, to shed a tear – but not for me…. but for what happened. It’s not until I actually list past events that their enormity becomes apparent. Fuck it Melissa….I know what happened, where I’ve been and just how many times I’ve been driven to the edge. The same day mother killed herself (last March) I had sat in the house with a loaded shotgun with two cartridges, one for the dog and one for me. I was going to kill my dog and then walk into the room where my mother laid in bed and blow my head off in front of her, to punish her for abusing the love that existed between us. Not abuse as in the recognized definition of abuse, but abuse as in "Just What Else Are You Going To Put Me Through?" That day she finally realized that not only had my rope been stretched but I had actually reached the end. That night she killed herself. She wasn’t just my mother, but one of my best friends. Aside from bereavement (which is a bitch) and the loss of someone so damn close – that particular incident was just one of the many traumatic things to happen, I’ve had a lot worse, believe me. I had forgotten this, your post reminded me. I remember as a kid coming home from school, grabbing a sandwich and sitting down to watch TV. I always remember my father would look through the window from the conservatory into the lounge and knock on the window and scowl at me for sitting down whilst he was working. He would then resort to physical or emotional means to get me to go through and help him, for woe betide anyone sitting down whilst he worked. After a while all it took was a glance through the window and like one of Pavlov’s dogs I would respond, he had me trained, fear is a wonderful training tool. After a while I would twitch nervously in anticipation at his menacing penetrating eyes catching a glimpse of me doing nothing. Should he catch a glance I would give the impression that I was occupied doing something, anything – anything to help him, rather than doing nothing. Although he’s long gone (died 1983) his legacy remains. I feel guilty if I don’t do anything, I have to be doing something. I have never relaxed until now. Silly isn’t it? : The other possibility is the Prozac blahs. If you’re still taking : Prozac, that is. In a few people, it can cause a dull, listless : feeling, that people usually describe as "blah," hence the term : "Prozac blahs." I’m still on the Prozac and I adore them – they’ve saved my life. Another plummet like the last and I sincerely believe I would have cracked up. I’m not suffering too many side effects from the Prozac apart from vivid dreams and night sweats (which don’t bother me). : But mostly I think you should listen to your doctor. Let yourself : slow down for a while, everything doesn’t have to get done : immediately. Just do what’s absolutely necessary to keep the rent : paid or utility bills covered or whatever. Give yourself a break. : It’s not like you’re a slacker. You’re right Melissa, I need a break. It’s been hell babe, sheer fucking hell.. : Anyone ever tell you you’re a sweetheart? Love Michael
Response:
<snip – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -The past few years have seen a steady decline in my abilities. I have gone from workaholic to a state of total disinterest where nothing would get done whatsoever. Now, I know the root cause of this particular trait is depression. For a number of years I witnessed a slow and steady decline in my functioning abilities as my particular brand (haha) of depression increased. I’m naturally an active person, forever fidgeting, forever doing something to occupy myself. Over the past few months I tried to continue as if nothing had happened, upon which I found myself becoming totally overwhelmed with everything, whereupon something strange happened – my body and mind completely shut down. The doctor said my shutting down was due to total exhaustion. The problem is this; I have a lot of things to do as there’s a lot happening, a lot that needs attention, but I’m unable to attend to those requirements because for the first time ever I find myself relaxing – and I like it. But I’m getting frustrated because things aren’t getting done. : So did the doctor suggest anything, or did he just say, Michael, : you’re exhausted, go away and sleep? He told me to go away and take it easy and quit beating myself up over it. Is said that things will start to happen gradually, and they are. It’s just that I am impatient. He didn’t prescribe anything because he knows my reluctance towards AD’s and alike. I need to get back into the fast lane Nina.
I think one of two things is happening, Michael. Most likely is that your body is sending you a message. It needs to slow down and chill for a while. I’ve been reading, slowly, the book "Transforming Depression" by David H. Rosen, and one of the things he says is that depression is better thought of as part of a creative cycle, where the body needs to slow down and pull in on itself to recharge. It’s like plants going dormant during the winter. A lot of plants need that dormant period in order to continue functioning in a healthy manner. But I know how you feel. I’m impatient too. But I have a feeling that I need to learn this lesson of giving myself a break before I can make any progress. Maybe you do too. The other possibility is the Prozac blahs. If you’re still taking Prozac, that is. In a few people, it can cause a dull, listless feeling, that people usually describe as "blah," hence the term "Prozac blahs." But mostly I think you should listen to your doctor. Let yourself slow down for a while, everything doesn’t have to get done immediately. Just do what’s absolutely necessary to keep the rent paid or utility bills covered or whatever. Give yourself a break. It’s not like you’re a slacker. Melissa — Hand over the chocolate, and no one gets hurt.
Response:
: Yes. : In fact, that was the only diagnosis I had for a couple of years…. until : the physical exhaustion was over, but not the emotionnal one. THEN they : diagnosted me with depression. : Do you ever get the feeling someone’s got it in for you?. ((((Ann)))) You’re a total sweetheart Love Michael
Response:
: I’ve been diagnosed by two doctors with chronic fatigue syndrome, but : other than being chronically fatigued, I’m not sure I agree with them. : Maybe we’re just bored. Somehow I can’t imaging John allowing you to get bored, not unless you’ve slipped bromide into his beer Love and snogs Michael PS. Get rid of him and get yourself a real man 
Response:
Michael, once again you have convinced me that you’re my psychic doppelganger. Except I’ve still been too afraid to go near a shrink… Geni – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – : : I don’t know, Michael. There are so many things that could be going : on here that it’s hard to isolate any one thing. I’m nodding my head in agreement Nina, the problem is there’s a mix of things going on and trying to separate each problem into it’s respective individual pigeon hole is difficult and that’s basically the gist of the problem. Before the Prozac I wasn’t swinging in one axis, it wasn’t just depression swinging left to right but exhaustion swinging back and forth and a number of other "problems" all of which swung in their respective spaces, and all together they just blurred what was going on. Fortunately the Prozac has acted like a giant hand grasping these erratic pendulums thus preventing them from moving. Now that I’m not clinically confused (vbg) I’m able to separate this tangle of strings into their individual enteritis. : First of all, the above paragraph really sounds a lot like what I was : describing in my initial response to this. I’m getting bored to death : following you around ASD and saying "wow, that sounds exactly like : me", but it does. And I haven’t found any real solution to it other : than what your doctor said… wait, and try not to beat yourself up : over it. But I am incredibly impatient, and I hate waiting, and I do : beat myself up over it. So if you find any answers, PLEASE let me : know. I’m working on it as we speak. As soon as I find the answer I shall telephone you to give you the good news. Do you think we could be long lost relations? I too am bored reading your posts and thinking "errr…yep, I know what she’s saying". : But the other thing here… You’ve had an incredibly traumatic few : years, to say the least. When we really have to, we function and : function, and then, sometimes, when that thing that forces the : functioning is taken away, we simply collapse. There are parts of : this that are very like PTSD, and sometimes, the absence of that : strain is actually worse, in a short-term way, than its presence. And : it takes time, often, for these symptoms to appear, and even longer : for them to go away. Okay, grab a coffee and make yourself comfortable. This goes off on a tangent so please bear with me The doctor told me that I was suffering with post traumatic stress disorder. I have a little insight into PTSD and I can understand the similarities between what I’ve been through and what I’m presently going through. Bev mentioned something about something similar to PTSD but having it’s roots less in the traumatic side of PTSD and more in the stress side of PTSD, from what little Bev said, that made sense. It wasn’t until I went to see a psychologist that she made me realize that I was in fact human. Up until then I had been completely ignorant of what was actually happening and of what had gone before me. It wasn’t until she forced me to look at myself, where I was and more importantly where I was going (I was heading towards death) that did I realize that I could now recognize, acknowledge and label these deeply rooted unacceptable behaviors that were me. She did me a good turn, she forced (no lesser word will suffice), she forced me to take a long hard look at myself and peel away the layers of protection that were actually preventing the fresh air reaching the wound. The problem is this: I am now able to accept that things have been stressful and that what has happened these past 35 years is in fact unhealthy. But I’m having great difficulty moving on from that. It’s like continually opening the wound so that I can justifiably remain in this hypothetical hospital bed that has become my life these past few years. I need to let go, I need to move on because I’m now suffering hypothetical bed sores. And yet good intentions glow away only to be doused by the bucket of sand that is me feeling sorry for myself. I need to reeducate myself as how to get back into that god-awful thing called society. I know some people may think I’m being unnecessarily harsh on myself, but it begs the question "just how much longer am I going to sit here?". Oh well…..yet again I’ve rabbled on too much. Love Michael
Response:
: One of things that will never cease to astonish me, reading ASD, is : the amazing stories that people tell, and then, at the end, they wrap : it up with "sorry for whining, it’s no big deal, really, and I ought : to be doing <whatever". Funnily enough Nina, the first thought to enter my head as soon as I awoke was "My god….I must get on asd and apologize for whining and whinging away. I have no justification in complaining as there’s a lot of people been through a lot worse than me". And yet as I tell others ‘pain is pain irrespective’. I really should just shut up and get over it. Love Michael.
Response:
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – : One of things that will never cease to astonish me, reading ASD, is : the amazing stories that people tell, and then, at the end, they wrap : it up with "sorry for whining, it’s no big deal, really, and I ought : to be doing <whatever". Funnily enough Nina, the first thought to enter my head as soon as I awoke was "My god….I must get on asd and apologize for whining and whinging away. I have no justification in complaining as there’s a lot of people been through a lot worse than me". And yet as I tell others ‘pain is pain irrespective’. I really should just shut up and get over it. Love Michael.
If you happen across a miracle and figure out how to do that, let me know, will you? Geni
Response:
of denial. I will never forget the day she posed the question "what if a friend came up to you and told you his life story and told you all the details about what he had been through and what he was going through" (she then went into detail, listing a number of events). I looked at her and said " If any of my friends told me that – I would cry my damn heart out for them" she looked at me and said "Yes but that’s you – that’s you I’ve just described". It then hit me like a train striking a buffer at high speed, that I had done such a good job of surviving that I was now totally incapable of feeling anything whatsoever.
Dear God, this is so veryveryvery familiar. I wish it were not. I am sorry, so very sorry, that this is the only way we’ve been able to survive at all. Anyone ever tell you you’re a sweetheart?
As are you, my friend, as are you. Healing *is* possible, we *will* get there. I have to believe that, hard as it is at times. I still panic when around loud, belligerent, angry people, especially drunks. I still fear to be grabbed by the arm or the hair and dragged from my chair, or wherever I may be. I still flinch if anyone happens to touch me, however lightly, when I am not expecting it. I literally cannot bear to have someone standing behind me, especially if I am sitting down. I don’t know when these things will leave me, if ever. The last thing out of the box Pandora opened was hope. It was the most important of all the things in the box. Love, Geni
Response:
: I’ve been diagnosed by two doctors with chronic fatigue syndrome, but : other than being chronically fatigued, I’m not sure I agree with them. : Maybe we’re just bored. Somehow I can’t imaging John allowing you to get bored, not unless you’ve slipped bromide into his beer Love and snogs Michael PS. Get rid of him and get yourself a real man
Can’t I have both?
Response:
: Michael, once again you have convinced me that you’re my psychic : doppelganger. Except I’ve still been too afraid to go near a : shrink… : : Geni We can take turns Geni, between you, Nina and myself. One week one of us does the thinking and the remaining two post a "good grief – you read my mind" response. Then the following week a different one of us posts a post and we reply accordingly. Three thinkers for the effort of one. Love Michael
Response:
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -One of things that will never cease to astonish me, reading ASD, is the amazing stories that people tell, and then, at the end, they wrap it up with "sorry for whining, it’s no big deal, really, and I ought to be doing <whatever". And I think to myself, wow, that’s awful, how did you survive, and why are you being so hard on yourself? And THEN (and this is the amazing part), I will think about my own life and say, there’s really no excuse for the fact that I’m not famous, haven’t climbed Mt. Everest, haven’t become a billionaire, it’s just that I’m weak and pathetic and whining… We can have so much sympathy, empathy, for others, and yet we are so very bad at giving any of that back to ourselves. We get so accustomed to doing what we need to in order to survive that we can’t look up and see the big picture, what we’re really doing, what we’re really doing to ourselves. It’s just normal, just another day… Nina
Yes, yes, yes!!!!! Same here. I give such great advice and caring to other people, and turn around and beat myself up for spending more time on the computer than I intended, or for not doing something "productive" with my time. Or I feel guilty for leaving work an hour early the other night, when I’d been going strong since 6:30 am, and by 9 pm was walking around like a zombie, so tired I was completely useless. The word "should" has been a big part of my vocabulary. I’m trying to change that. This agency I’m going to therapy for is big on behavioral treatment, figuring out things you can actively do to help yourself feel better. My therp and I were working on my treatment plan (they just switched to "new and improved" paperwork, so we have to do it over again. grr!) and I said something about how I needed to give myself a break, as in letting up on myself, accepting myself more, and he said "ok, how would you do that?" But it’s not so much something behavioral I can do as it is a shift in my thinking. I’m still trying to figure it out, though, since he didn’t make me answer right away. I don’t know if I’ll come up with anything, though. Melissa — Hand over the chocolate, and no one gets hurt.
Response:
: I still panic when around loud, belligerent, angry people, especially : drunks. I still fear to be grabbed by the arm or the hair and dragged : from my chair, or wherever I may be. I still flinch if anyone happens : to touch me, however lightly, when I am not expecting it. I literally : cannot bear to have someone standing behind me, especially if I am : sitting down. I don’t know when these things will leave me, if ever. As Nina would say "This is getting boring but yet again you’ve said what’s in my mind". At one time I had the severest difficulty allowing anyone either physically or emotionally close to me. People who didn’t really know me – got on great with me, it was only when they attempted to penetrate beyond the superficial did they confront the wrath of Michael. My need for privacy was so intense that even someone finding out my surname via other means apart from directly from me, sent me into a blue funk. Just standing to close would make me back away, and anyone touching me just had me running for cover. I shall never forget the time when my father discovered (via clandestine means) where I was living. My mother told me that he had followed me home one night. When I returned to my flat, I sat upon the bed and cried and cried and cried on and off for three days. Soon after that I moved to Greece, I was 18. I’m a big guy, 240 pounds lean muscle (although considerable more than that now – food <sigh!) so I am more than capable of taking care of myself, I did boxing for pleasure and trained most of my life and tend to be very confident in my prescience, crossing the street for no one. However if I’m out walking Barney and I hear drunks – I run a mile. the hairs on my back stand on end and I become a small helpless child curling up in a ball. I don’t think these things will ever leave us, we can learn to recognize our responses and try to amend our behavior accordingly. But as for them disappearing? They’re with us for life. All we can do is lessen their impact. Even now I have great difficulty allowing anyone to touch me. I don’t think people understand that when they touch me and I shiver, it’s not them. When it comes to relationships I tend to be the giving partner and receiving little. To date I still have great difficulity allowing someone who loves me, to touch me. So intense is my need not to be touched, It became part reason why I didn’t enter into relationships and concenquently part reason why ….. never mind. Love you Geni Michael
Response:
Well, I had been working 50-70 hours a week for several months.
I did this. I worked 60-70 hours a week for 6 weeks. I’d get up and ready, dress the kids and drop them off at daycare. Work all day. Pick up the kids. Drive them home, or to Joe’s office, then go back to work. If the kids really needed me one night, I’d stay with them until their bedtime, then go back to work. Trying to finish a program we’d scheduled installation for, and my supervisor had added a ton of new features at the last minute. By the end of that period I was in a fog. Barely knew where I was. Was walking with a cane because I kept falling over in the hallways from fatigue. My immune system went haywire. 2 weeks later, I was diagnosed with myasthenia gravis, brought on by the stress. I’m sure I’d have come down with an autoimmune problem someday, regardless. But it didn’t have to be yet. We need to take care of ourselves! I’m glad you aren’t in that job anymore, wombn. No job is worth that kind of stress. -Lisa
Response:
I’m sorry Nina, I go on a bit here….. As you are all too aware these past few years from 89 through to 98 have been very strenuous and with everything happening, I didn’t have the opportunity to slow down let alone stop. My days were occupied both physically and emotionally. It’s only since my duties as a son and a carer have been redundant that I find myself with time on my hands. I know what physical exhaustion is, I’ve experienced that first hand. With that I just couldn’t physically get out of bed, but after a few days I was back to half strength and after a few weeks almost totally recovered. I know what stress is and even when severely stressed I was able to fully function. The past few years have seen a steady decline in my abilities. I have gone from workaholic to a state of total disinterest where nothing would get done whatsoever. Now, I know the root cause of this particular trait is depression. For a number of years I witnessed a slow and steady decline in my functioning abilities as my particular brand (haha) of depression increased. I’m naturally an active person, forever fidgeting, forever doing something to occupy myself. Over the past few months I tried to continue as if nothing had happened, upon which I found myself becoming totally overwhelmed with everything, whereupon something strange happened – my body and mind completely shut down. The doctor said my shutting down was due to total exhaustion. The problem is this; I have a lot of things to do as there’s a lot happening, a lot that needs attention, but I’m unable to attend to those requirements because for the first time ever I find myself relaxing – and I like it. But I’m getting frustrated because things aren’t getting done. : So did the doctor suggest anything, or did he just say, Michael, : you’re exhausted, go away and sleep? He told me to go away and take it easy and quit beating myself up over it. Is said that things will start to happen gradually, and they are. It’s just that I am impatient. He didn’t prescribe anything because he knows my reluctance towards AD’s and alike. I need to get back into the fast lane Nina.
Response:
Michael, As I said, my exhaustion has been related to underlying medical problems. I have had exhaustion from being a full-time Mom and working full-time with chronic fatigue from fibromyalgia. That feeling that I couldn’t do anything more mentally or physically. I remember getting almost to where my car was parked at work, realizing that my keys were on my desk, and bursting into tears at the thought of having to go back for them. It was just too much. I was crying by late afternoon almost every day just from the effort of living. Mental fog from the stress of pushing myself. Medication (Elavil or Flexeril) to improve the quality of my sleep helped. I’ve also had heat exhaustion a couple of times. A very similar feeling. Just couldn’t move. Didn’t want to. Very confused. Didn’t care too much. A very dangerous place to be. I hope you feel better soon, Michael. Do you know what caused your exhaustion? -Lisa
Response:
: I should have been. But who ever goes to a doc for exhaustion? I should : have tho. Cuz I got burned by it. How would you describe "burned" Wombn? Does that mean you gave up totally or were unable to do anything? Anything you can tell me would be appreciated. I don’t really know much about it. TIA Michael
Response:
: Yes, but there’s been an underlying cause or contributing factor that : needed to be addressed. Hi Lisa, My doc told me that I’m suffering from exhaustion and that’s why I’m having great difficulty applying myself to anything. I tend to dabble rather than get on with things. I know depression manifests itself with similar symptoms but I’m able to fully function still even with depression. It’s only recently that I haven’t been able to drag my sorry butt off the chair but rather sit down and do nothing and I shamefully admit I actually enjoy doing nothing although I do feel guilty for not getting on with what needs doing. It’s like my body has gone on holiday but it hasn’t told my brain…..strange. I just wondered how exhaustion affected you? Thanks Michael
Response:
? Michael
Response:
Yes, but there’s been an underlying cause or contributing factor that needed to be addressed. -Lisa – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – ? Michael
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