Staying grounded. Literally.

There are times when I am so poorly that I feel I need to slither onto the floor. I don’t faint. It’s almost a choice, but at the same time it isn’t a choice because I feel the floor is the only place where my body can get some relief. I’ll put my feet up on a chair as I lay there on the cold, kitchen tiles.

I find it almost ‘comforting’ lying on the floor. When you’re on the floor there is nowhere to fall. I can allow my body to sink into the floor and try to relax. I’ve developed a bit of a fear of falling and fainting. You see my balance isn’t always great and I feel faint quite a bit. But it isn’t that fear that makes me lie on the floor. It isn’t some kind of voice in my head making me do strange things. It’s hard to explain but the only reason I lie on the floor is because I feel too poorly not to. I don’t know if I’m making sense… 

My energy supply seems to reach an all time low very suddenly. It’s time like that when I feel the need to eat and eat to get some kind of energy boost but it never comes. Never. I feel so weak and have to lie on the floor because I can’t support my own body. Gravity is too strong. During these poorliest times, my body is so weak and my muscles so redundant that I shake to the beat of my heart; my whole body moves with every beat and I’m not strong enough to stop it and be still. This is gross but I’ll share it anyway: I tend to leave behind a sweat patch on the floor because the cold sweats can be that extreme.

It doesn’t happen all that regularly anymore. Very rarely really. It used to happen much more regularly in The Beginning. I’d often find myself on the bathroom floor mid-teeth clean…

It is a horrible feeling. I just lie there trying and willing myself to stay calm. Despite what my body is trying to tell me I’m not actually dying. This must sound silly but trust me when I tell you how real it is. It isn’t in my head. I’m not pretending. This is real and it is awful and scary and not at all how I imagined I’d be spending my time. When it happens when I’m home alone it’s not nice at all. It used to happen regularly and I’d have to patiently wait there, on the floor, until I was strong enough to crawl to the phone or use just my arms to drag my body behind me because my legs had gone completely floppy and dead. Imagine that. This isn’t a game. This isn’t for effect or for fun or to be a Drama Queen. This is my life. 

Medical professionals would no doubt have me sectioned for such odd behaviour. Perhaps if they did some proper research and gave us proper treatment I wouldn’t have to resort to such ‘extreme’ measures to make it through the day.