These past few days, I’ve been unusually exhausted, and the things I normally enjoy have stopped appealing to me. I’ve always been a low-energy person, but recently I was tired enough to return to bed just a few hours after sitting at my desk. When I forced myself to go for a walk for about an hour, my body felt like it was dragging me down, and when I returned home, I was wiped out. I fell asleep around nine and slept seven hours straight, which is rare for me. Usually I wake around two and stay awake for hours, until hopefully I manage to get my remaining sleep.

The anhedonia was even more worrying. Until a few days ago, I was using Suno to turn the remaining lyrics in my Odes to My Triceratops cycle into songs. I was enjoying it, and it felt meaningful to me. But suddenly, I couldn’t be bothered to get through that process again. I also couldn’t figure out what repository to work on. I couldn’t muster the strength to even put on a Sissy Spacek movie. Nothing whatsoever seemed worth the effort.

I went to my first therapy session in about eleven years while this was going on. I told them about it, which didn’t really change anything. The following day, I found myself still unable to focus on anything and without any energy. I had also been constipated for about three days; I have IBS, so going through cycles of constipation and semi-diarrhea is just the norm. But this time, my guts felt wronger than usual.

This morning I woke up at about half past four, feeling like shit. My guts were bloated and burning, and something kept bubbling up my esophagus. Then I got that extra salivation that announces vomit. I rushed to the bathroom and vomited a tan, brownish liquid, along with what seemed like the rice from Wednesday, two days earlier. By about one in the afternoon, I’d vomited five times, and when I wasn’t rushing to the bathroom to vomit, I was shitting liquid.

I have a mild fever now. Standing up makes me feel as though I’ll vomit again. Lying down brings the pressure into my throat. I’m guessing it’s food poisoning or a stomach bug.

Over this last year, I’ve had warning signs that maybe something more serious was going on. Blood when wiping, which could have come from hemorrhoids or some minor fissure. More frequent bloating, and feeling full much of the time. I also get the sense that it’s become more troublesome to process food; about two months ago, I went with my family to a Chinese buffet. After the first dish, I was uncomfortably full; in the past, I wouldn’t have felt full after a single dish. I pushed myself to eat two more dishes, of noodles and rice if I remember correctly. I do love Chinese food, so I didn’t want to waste the opportunity. I ended up vomiting most of it.

I hate vomiting. So much. That queasy sensation, that pressure against your throat, the painful retches, the way your esophagus feels afterwards like it’s been burned. I’m sure there are many other horrible symptoms or bodily experiences that are far worse (for example dying from bone cancer, like my grandfather did), but I would be reluctant to repeat any experience that could lead me to vomiting again, or any supposed remedy that would cause it (like chemotherapy). It’s not uncommon for me to wish to be dead, but thankfully, the rest of the time I’m not bent over the toilet while it feels like my whole stomach is trying to escape through my throat.

I’m taking it real easy today. Haven’t eaten anything other than yogurt. Been drinking an oral rehydration solution. Mainly I’m trying to distract myself until this goes away. I don’t know whether the fatigue and loss of interest were early signs that I was getting sick, or whether two different things have hit me at once.

Every time something weird goes on with my guts, I get suspicious that maybe it’s bowel cancer. But my blood tests don’t suggest anemia, blood while wiping could be from hemorrhoids or fissures, and the bloating and common pains could be regular IBS. What troubles me most about seeing a doctor is how I might react to a diagnosis. I think I would feel relief. Someone enduring cancer treatment is excused from having to find a job. It’s okay to die if cancer does it. I would publish Motocross Legend, Love of My Life so it doesn’t disappear when my blog goes offline, and I’d hope to carry with me to my last breath the daydreams of the women, real or not, I’ve been obsessed with over the years.

I’m not planning to jump out a cliff at the moment. But when even ordinary waking life often sends me over the edge into wishing I wouldn’t wake up again, having to endure sickness worsens the generally awful experience of being alive.