Home » How do you feel when you return home at the end of the day?

How do you feel when you return home at the end of the day?

fractured reality/grace under pain

The NaBloPo­Mo prompt for today:
How do you feel when you return home at the end of the day?

I’m not sure I should have answered this one, as I doubt that my answer will be in sync with the intent of the ques­tion. I don’t leave home every day to go to work, or leave home every day, peri­od.

How­ev­er, when I do leave home, how I feel when I return depends on many fac­tors. How did I feel before leav­ing? How long was I gone, and how much phys­i­cal, intel­lec­tu­al, and emo­tion­al ener­gy did I have to expend while I was out? Did I have to deal with any­thing unex­pect­ed, good or bad? How many peo­ple was I around? Were they strangers or peo­ple known to me? Did I encoun­ter them all at once, or in small groups of one or two at a time? Was Sam with me as a buffer? fHow’s my blood sug­ar? Am I well hydrat­ed? What was the weath­er like? Did I remem­ber to take my reg­u­lar med­ica­tions? What about tak­ing break­through pain med­ica­tion, anx­i­ety med­ica­tion, or a mus­cle relax­ant before I found myself in a state where they wouldn’t work very well? Did I use my scooter if there was much walk­ing? How noisy was the envi­ron­ment? Was it drafty, or over­ly hot or cold? Did I have to dri­ve? Was I out to do some­thing I want­ed to do, or was I doing some­thing I had to do?

Fre­quent­ly, I’m so dog-tired that I can bare­ly drag myself in the door. I have actu­al­ly fal­l­en asleep sit­ting in the car, in the driver’s seat, more than once. (There are plen­ty of rea­sons that I do not dri­ve much any more.) Deal­ing with the secu­ri­ty sys­tem seems an intel­lec­tu­al chal­lenge designed for Ein­stein. I’m eas­i­ly con­fused and my mem­o­ry is beyond poor. Even if I am dehy­drat­ed or I need to eat, I’m too tired to be inter­est­ed in food or even water. If I was out for too long, or if it was a par­tic­u­lar­ly stress­ful peri­od, I get a fever and my body reacts as if I’m in shock. I feel like I’m freez­ing, no mat­ter what the actu­al tem­per­a­ture around me is, and I start shak­ing bad­ly.

So that’s how I feel most days when I return home at the end of the day, if I’ve had to leave home. I think that should go a long way towards explain­ing why I’m such a home­body the­se days! I am for­tu­nate in that I have Sam, Katie, and oth­ers in my life, so I am able to have a ful­fill­ing life with­out being very adven­tur­ous.


  1. Thanks for this… when I come in the door after work I am hor­ri­fied by the state of my home (fibro means that I have to con­cen­trate on doing what it takes to ensure my home isn’t closed for health vio­la­tions). If only I could make it what every­one says it should be… a refuge… but hav­ing a full time job, a 70 year old hus­band with arthri­tis, a 4 hour a day round trip com­mute to a high stress job in Boston, a dog, a cat, and two guinea pigs… means I don’t make much pro­gress! Just took the dog to the state park for a walk on a love­ly fall day, but trade­offs mean I’ll hang in and make sup­per for my hus­band, then go to bed. That’s my day. For some rea­son, I think you can relate!

    Love the NaBloPo­Mo prompts, may­be I will use them to get me writ­ing. And the image with this post real­ly com­mu­ni­cat­ed the pain of hav­ing fibro. Thank you.

  2. Cyn says:

    Nice to see you here! 

    I def­i­nite­ly under­stand. I’d freak out if any­body but fam­i­ly were to vis­it here right now. Prob­a­bly just lay right down and die! And I don’t work. 

    A four hour com­mute? That’s like hav­ing a sec­ond job!

    A cou­ple of my recent posts aren’t show­ing, so I need to trou­bleshoot them.

    The image is incred­i­ble. I found it on Flickr, and am def­i­nite­ly watch­ing that artist, who is very tal­ent­ed.

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