And at its worse I am still not lazy, I am sick

So the brain fog is heavy and the final symptom has hit. I’m at work and if it didn’t take caring, I’d go home.

For the past two weeks, the brain fog has been medium and I could tell at yoga that I really didn’t care about being there – despite trying to string together an attendance record.

How to put in words what I feel – how long it took me to realize a fragment of words, forget it, stir through the fog, and come up with enough of the gist of the thought? I want my writing to flow – to appear crisp and effortless. I feel like a shadow of what I am capable of crafting.

I’ve learned to be terse in technical writing and it hampers my efforts in fiction or journaling.

I still don’t care, probably won’t get much done today, it bugs the work ethic I’ve built up in myself, but I know deep down it can’t be helped. This isn’t me being lazy (just added that to the title!), this is me being sick and getting through the day. I worked hard last week and I’ll work hard some more soon. I have to let go of the guilt I am not feeling.

Don’t know how else to put it – there is guilt – but it is floating a layer above my inner critic. He is watching the guilt drift by and he is waving to it. Learning that I am not disassociating the emotion from my upbringing (work ethic) has been liberating. The disassociation is literally the disease, not depression, not an explicit action on my part. If it were depression, I would feel the guilt.

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