#exhausion

She’s quiet over breakfast and through packing up the campsite into the wagon, her vision going fuzzy if she doesn’t focus enough. She ignores the worried look Himadri gives her, forcing a smile and an “I’m alright.”

Once they’re on the road, it isn’t long before Linde meanders to the back of the wagon and digs her winter cloak out of her storage box. “Just chilly,” she explains to Khurri when the scholar cocks an eyebrow at her.

It’s midsummer. In the southern plains. But she’s so damn cold, even with her arms tucked under the soft furs.

She doesn’t react right away when Tsiliya calls out an incoming monster pack. When she does look up, everyone else has already prepared to fight, weapons drawn and wagon steered sideways to protect the oxen. Linde wearily sighs and draws her sword from her back. The blade feels like solid lead in her clammy hands, but she rushes into the fray.

It’s hard to focus. Too hard, her vision blurring and head pounding with each clang of steel on horn, each bellow or shriek. She stumbles, staggers, but doesn’t let herself fall. She can’t disappoint everyone, can’t fail them. She’d be a failure if she did. Failures get...

A wave of dizziness overtakes her, and she shifts forward, clutching her head and letting her sword fall into the tall grass. A spike of pain shoots through her shoulder and her vision goes black.

---

Linde awakes to a soft darkness, head still protesting wakefulness but dulled by something cool resting on her forehead. The battle--she sits up, but the sudden movement sends dizziness crashing through her again and she groans, hunching over and grimacing.

“Linde?” Himadri’s voice pierces her headache, but she can’t bring herself to look up, in too much pain and too ashamed. “Linde, please lie back down.”

Meekly, she obeys, letting her friend’s soft hands grasp her shoulders and ease her back onto the pillows. The cool object on her forehead is replaced, and she forces herself to open her eyes.

Himadri’s hovering over her, pulling the bedcovers back up over her shoulder. “You fainted,” he explains. “Linde, your fever--why didn’t you tell us?”

“...didn’t wanna fail you,” she mumbles, tears spilling from her hot eyes as she blinks. “had to get goin’, couldn’t wait more...”

The healer shakes his head, ears tilting down in concern. “Linde, our mission is not so urgent that you are not allowed rest,” he protests. “If I was sick, or Khurri, or anyone else--you’d let us rest, would you not?”

Her eyes go wide, and she nods, half-frantic. Of course she would! Her friends mean the world to her, and she’d do anything to see them healthy and safe--

“Oh,” she realizes, voice soft.

His smile is sad but soft. “Oh,” he agrees with a nod. “Come, now, you need to eat something. You’ve been asleep for hours now.”

You have notified me at least 100 times today that telling people I'm feeling terrible is a waste of their time and that I should try to do better. I'll try to take it under advisement. Please consider not continuing to send me this notification as I promise I have recieved it.

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“What happened to you Magdalene? You look so fresh today!” These were the words of one of my colleagues as we held a zoom meeting on the 2nd week of working from home. It was nice that she noticed because I started my 2nd week of working from home with the mindset that I will practice self-care, apply my make-up and dress up as though I was going to the office. This happened because the week…

The new me... #multiplesclerosis #msnews #livinglife #writerslife #overheated

this is sooooo very true… no matter how upbeat I try to be, I still have moments of regret and mourning… I miss the girl that could do anything, that could and would jump first and ask questions later, that knew no fear and would try just because she was told it was impossible… I miss the way she saw the world, the way she yearned to climb higher and swim deeper… although I know that that girl is…