It felt like May would never end, and yet it has.
I noticed what looked like bug bites on my arm a few weeks ago, coinciding with work on the now-empty suite across the hall. I thought at first a mosquito had gotten in, as I’d left the window open for a night or two, but found it odd since I no longer smell like food to them. One morning, as I sat up reading in bed, a very distinctive insect scuttled across the sheets.
Bedbugs. Again. You little fuckers.
The end result: several loads of boiled, roasted, bagged laundry; said bags and bins loaded with bedroom detritus piled between kitchen and living room; disassembled bed; two pest control visits two weeks apart; and me sleeping on the couch, now with a paranoid itch reflex and scars from the bites. Had to throw out all my pillows and the Devil May Cry 3 standee I’d kept from my EB Games days — I really liked that souvenir, you little shits! I’ve since put the bed back together, but nothing more. Energy, what is it.
The insomnia-hypersomnia cycles have returned in force. Last week, I spent two full (non-consecutive) days asleep, lost in vivid, exciting dreams I didn’t want to wake from. I woke only to feed the cats, but didn’t bother feeding myself before passing out again. I’m so tired, and yet. And yet.
The disability forms finally arrived. I visit one doctor tomorrow for bloodwork results and to fill them out, the other doctor on Tuesday to fill out a second copy. I also made copies of existing diagnosis letters to send along with them. Here’s hoping it’ll be enough.
If nothing else, the desperate panic I felt when I couldn’t find my binder as a result of the packing confirmed I’m on the right track for something.
Starting to hallucinate now. That means it’s time to sleep.
I slept 25 hours.
My head hurts.