PERSONAL

1

525

I Fainted... Again, Apparently

7 months ago1,568 words

Here's a less-than-lovely update to the previously positive-ish post!

∞ About a week ago, I wrote about some Mindfulness group thing that I attended ∞, and how I felt elated afterwards, due to getting a taste of several things I'm severely starved of usually (social contact, exercise, fresh air). I walked home, which took an hour - much of it up a fairly steep hill - and felt perfectly fine for the duration. Lighter than usual, even; I whistled to myself and drunk in the beauty of nature around me.

I was fine for most of the next day, too, and did a decent amount of work on my current game project, Dreamons. In the evening, though, I read a post on Reddit where someone said they were 30 and had never been employed, but had 'run an online community' and 'kept a blog', and the comments were mercilessly tearing them to shreds, saying nobody in their right mind would ever hire some bedroom-dwelling Reddit mod type with no employment history. That soured my positive mood a fair bit, and brought back all the anxiety about my own unadmirable life situation.

(I'd like to believe I have more to offer in terms of demonstrable creative and technical skills, but negative thoughts are hardly rational things.)

The day after that, I felt completely exhausted, could barely think, let alone work (which was frustrating because I wanted to do some specific tasks on Dreamons). I'm assuming it was mostly the result of the long walk after months spent sedentary, though it's odd that it wasn't the day immediately after said walk, but the day after that.

I felt better over the next few days. Did more work. Had a 3-hour-long call with a friend, no remarkable physical or mental issues (other than the usual).



Last night, though, after I'd been asleep for maybe an hour or two, I was awoken by a dull, severe pain in my abdomen, accompanied by nausea; I felt like I needed to expel something from one end or the other. I got up out of bed, and hurried to the bathroom (which, for ridiculous reasons, is downstairs, unlike my room)...

...though I don't remember getting there. I just briefly recall waking up sprawled in the bath (??), lifting myself out and waking up briefly on the bathroom floor, then waking up on a sofa in the adjacent living room that I must have moved to, feeling godawful, barely able to move or even think.

I've fainted before - I think I wrote a blog post with this same title before - though it's been years since the last time. I think it was in this same bathroom, just a few days after being discharged from hospital after the major brain surgery [or so I thought, though incorrectly, as I realised deeper into writing this post]. So I'm at least familiar with the symptoms.

This time, though, I noticed that I couldn't think, which was especially alarming. I felt like I was in some dreamlike haze, in and out of consciousness, and what thoughts were bubbling up were unrelated to what was going on (they were remembered bits of some silly song I'd recently been charmed by on YouTube). During one of the brief dips into awareness, between these meaningless thoughts, I tried to focus on what was going on, to think, but literally couldn't. I was aware, vaguely, but my brain just wasn't working, like a machine that wouldn't turn on. I don't remember ever feeling like that before, nor do I ever wish to experience it again.

I've been worrying about some chest pain for the past several weeks - or more like months - which I've probably mentioned at least once in this blog. I wondered during all this whether my heart had failed me, that this was the end. I recall foggily thinking what a pathetic end it was, after everything, and how I'd have just disappeared so the few left who check this blog wouldn't know what happened, and neither would my two or three friends who I only interact with over long distances these days.

I lay on the sofa, barely able to move or think, and didn't know what to do, so I shouted out "help me" to my parents upstairs, probably because the last time this happened, my mum heard me collapse and came running. I've never shouted for help before. It's an odd experience, which - like the inability to think despite trying - I also hope never to have to go through again.

My shouts got no response anyway. I shouted dozens of times - as loud as I was able to - but just went unheard. My mind turned to the parental emotional neglect which is the cause for so many of my problems. I thought maybe it'd make for a fitting book ends situation, if I were to die in the same neglected state that characterised my entry into the world. O woe is me, alas. What a cursed tragedy this all is and so on.

(I am a drama queen.)

I turned on the television, loudly, and that got my mum's attention. She came down and basically just suggested how this was probably nothing and I should just go back to bed, while I lay there ON DEATH'S DOOR, O woe, alas, etc. Like how all signs of my brain tumour were dismissed as hypochondria before it was finally discovered incidentally in an experiment.

She at least sat with me a while, though, and made me a cup of tea that I struggled to drink. Her main love language seems to be Acts of Service, if you know/remember what that means.

I spent most of the night downstairs on the sofa in the living room, since I felt I couldn't go back to my bed upstairs. And barely slept as a result.



I was getting some deja vu while writing that, and thankfully I overshare about things like this in this blog so I can refer to old ones when my shoddy memory fails me.

∞ Turns out I wrote about fainting in 2021 ∞, so a few years after the surgery, and it sounds similar to this time. Similar time of year, too. I assume it's the result of a whole bunch of persistent subconscious stresses and generally poor lifestyle. Hmm.

Worringly, until I checked my old blog posts, I had no recollection of that at all.



In the morning, I finally called the doctor. I'd been meaning to do this for weeks due to the chest sensations, and I suppose this finally gave me the kick to do that.

It's tough to get doctor's appointments here - the local surgery is understaffed and ∞ GPs are overworked and in short supply throughout Wales ∞ - but I (anxiously) called during the brief 8am window, thankfully got through, and the admin people on the other end seemed concerned enough that the doctor himself called me soon after to tell me to come in just a couple of hours later.

So he did. The doctor was young, sharp, obviously intelligent, and he listened, though it didn't exactly give me the immediate clarity or reassurance I hoped for. He checked my blood pressure, and said I should check my own twice a day for two weeks - for which I'd have to buy my own blood pressure monitor - and I should also make ECG and blood test appointments myself to gather more data (which felt overwhelming since I was so flustered and had barely slept, but I think I've sorted them out and bought the right thing now).

My blood pressure measured alarmingly high, and he's concerned I might have hypertension. Again I'm getting some faint deja vu; maybe I've been through this before? If I have, I can't clearly recall. Could just as easily have been anxiety in the moment, though, so I suppose I'll only find out more via repeated measurements.



Siiiigh, though! As I apparently said back in 2021, I wish I could be a healthy functioning human being! My brain's broken, maybe my heart is too...

...My mum just mentioned to me that my older brother was diagnosed with hypertension too? Could be at least partly genetic, then? Hmm. Some quick googling suggests 'maybe'.

I'm probably just stressed, though, all the time. I'm always tense, and I'm often miserable. It's not as if I'm fainting out of nowhere despite a happy, stable life filled with everything a person might need to stay sane. If anything, it's surprising to me that I don't suffer from more physical health issues, all things considered.

Ugh. Anyway. I was hoping to write about Dreamons today! I suppose that'll have to wait a day or two or three or more.

While I feel embarrassed writing so candidly about things like this (I say, despite doing it consistently for years), maybe this entry will be useful to me if this happens again in future and I have absolutely no recollection of this time.

Also, things like this are among the reasons I worry I couldn't work a normal job even if someone was mad enough to hire me.

I seem to be feeling mostly better now, at least. Tired though.