Today I ended up getting sent home from work due to the health issues I experienced these past two days. Here’s how it went: yesterday morning I felt like shit at the office, although I can’t recall any concrete details beyond a weariness, mental fog and weird chest sensations. When I got home, I wasted the entire afternoon trying to stay awake. My body felt like it weighed twice as much. As expected, I barely progressed the current scene of my novel (writing is virtually the only thing that matters to me these days, because life in general feels like a ceaseless nightmare). I know what happens if I take a nap in the afternoons: even if I just sleep for an hour, it’s very likely that I will spend the whole night dealing with insomnia. The days when I’ve ended up going to work on zero sleep, or at the most an hour, are fucking harrowing.

Anyway, this morning on the train I found myself unable to concentrate on my reading, so I just closed my eyes and tried to disappear inside my mind by blasting storm sounds through my earbuds. Once I reached the office, I couldn’t muster the strength to look at my coworkers in the eye, and I could barely make sense of what was happening around me. I was experiencing hot and cold flashes. My chest ached, particularly the area of my heart. I wasn’t surprised about any of it, because a week or so ago I deduced that I’m depressed again.

However, as I was talking to a couple of secretaries to handle a ticket (and I was begging in my mind for them to please stop talking to me and let me return to the office), one of them mentioned a rash around my eyes. I looked in a mirror a bit later and I saw something like this (that’s someone else’s photo):

I’m not allergic to anything, nor had I touched or consumed anything in particular. I found the same spots on my neck. I went to the workplace health service, but they were only interested in ruling out whether or not I had covid, so they told me to go home and wait for the call that’ll provide the schedule for the covid test. I ended up receiving the call as I was waiting for the bus. When I got home, my temperature was higher than normal, although not to the level of a fever; however, it wouldn’t surprise me if I always ran a higher than normal temperature as I get back from the hospital complex to my place, given that the experience of venturing through this ruinous society is a feverish ordeal. The test turned out negative, although my symptoms started less than forty-eight hours ago. I don’t consider my symptoms covid related, but what do I know.

Anyway, right now I have no clue if I should go to work tomorrow or not, or if I even can. I called the help service for this whole covid nonsense and they told me to ask my general practitioner (or however it’s called in English), contact the workplace health service (they close at three in the afternoon), or just contact my boss. I wrote my boss an email, but he hasn’t answered.

I don’t know where my depression ends and other health issues begin. I can’t think clearly, and of course the baseline of everything feels meaningless and hopeless. It’s better for my brain if I push myself to go to work; otherwise I may just hide under a blanket and wish I didn’t exist.