I have always wondered what goes on internally when my body crashes. It is not exactly like I choose to lie down or do nothing when I crash. It is more the proverbial 'hitting a wall', mentally, physically, physiologically.
I wonder - if we took an MRI or some sort of imaging of my brain at the moment of crashing - what would we see?
Would it resemble a computer's 'blue screen of death'? All systems shutting down at once? Would it resemble a blackout, all little lights flashing off then turning back on? Would it be like the electronics in stormy weather, flickering, static, spotty communication?
Or would it show nothing at all?
I don't think it would show nothing, but I don't know if we have discovered the actual physiological reaction of someone who has 'crashed' from chronic illness.
It is more than just feeling exhausted and having a nap.
You know when you have been too active - pushed yourself too far - and the lactic acid has built up in your muscles?
It is sort of similar.
It is more like accidentally taking a huge gulp of boiling hot water that you thought was not boiling. You feel the burn go down your esophagus and into your stomach, but there is nothing you can do to improve the discomfort. You can try eating carbs or drinking cold water, but the damage is done. So you start to fidget and move around and flail about, hoping to distract yourself from pain.
Crashes are much like that. Every part of your body feels burned from the inside out. A build-up of acid - in your organs, in the cavities that house your organs, in your brain and bones and muscles.
You become irritable and begin to feel like you may collapse (and sometimes you do collapse). You feel like you have NO idea how you are even going to make it through the day.
So when you finally have a moment to lie down, your body shuts down entirely. You fall into this restless kind of sleep where you forget where you are, who you are, and what you're doing. The entire world melts away as though you have mentally left that world because your body can very literally take no more.
My crash day was yesterday.
I had hoped I could make it until today because our youngest pooch had an appointment yesterday that I had to take him to by myself but, alas, it was yesterday. Nothing was working. Everything was hurting. I could not think straight and it took ALL my stores of energy just to get him to the appointment.
He was whining, Decker was whining when we were leaving, I forgot doggy bags and had to go back. Then I forgot his obligatory stool sample and had to turn back. I was stressed. I was angry - really angry - for no real reason. I felt a strong compelling urge to punch things and scream.
Instead, I sat in my car and cried for an indulgent moment, then got on with the day.
When we got home, I got the boys lunch, then I went to lie down in the bedroom without even putting the little one in his kennel.
Somewhere in that crash, Rj had come upstairs, took the dogs out, shut the doors. I apparently had put an eye mask on and earplugs in. Total escape. I crashed for over two hours. Woke up with a fever and excessive dry mouth. Felt like I had been hit by a train. This crash did not at all affect my sleep last night either.
That's also a good indication of a crash - a 2 hour nap in the afternoon causes zero difficulty falling asleep later. I did have trouble relaxing to fall asleep though, but that was because of pain, not insomnia.
Today is the after-effect.
Not as angry, not as frantic, more just physically exhausted. So I am cuddling with the puppies. I am watching Netflix. I am watching the rain outside, drinking Boost so as not to irritate my intestines further. Today will be filled with tea, hot chocolate, Boost, maybe jello or pudding or yogurt, ice cream, lots of movies, puppy cuddles, and a backrub later.
For years, these crash days would happen once a week, then they reduced to once a month. Now, because I have not been working, these crash days happen 3 or 4 times a year. They happen when I try to do too much. They happen when I do not allow myself enough break time.
The Lighter Side of: Crash Days is that they FORCE you to take a much-needed break. Crashes allow our brains to disappear, without damage. They require resting, easy soft foods, and lots of lying down. I am not expected to do anything. I am not expected to even be awake through the whole day. I am cuddled and held and waited on (a little bit). Most of all, though, I am through the worst of it.
The best part of crash days is the ice cream. No guilt, eating out of the tub, like a bad breakup. My usual tub of ice cream of choice: Turtles.
:)
