#dealing with ME/CFS crashes

[compassionmattersmost]

When the Body Speaks: A Letter on ME/CFS and Forgiveness

Today, I felt it coming—a noxious wave rising from deep within. A bright, warning orange sliding straight into red, and before long, a full-blown crash. The heaviness in my limbs like wet sand, my mind fogged and thick. The weight of having done too much, more than my body could tolerate, more than it could carry. I knew this would happen. I overrode my limits packing, moving into a new…

[databent]

IM SO TIREDDDD im still at my mothers place petsitting and i just woke up to a LOUD ASS NOISE from the next room and i got up to go check thinking the cats had just knocked some shit over and instead was greeted with the fact that all four screws on one of a pair of brackets that was holding up two shelves fully ripped out of the wall, sending both shelves, and all the shit that was on them, straight to the floor for ME to deal with WHAT ARE THE CHANCES. WHAT ARE THE FUCKING ODDS OF THE SCREWS FAILING ON ONE OF THE INCREDIBLY FEW DAYS I HAPPEN TO BE TAKING CARE OF THE HOUSE. FUCK ME. I HATE THIS

[hellyeahsickaf]

Abled people don't fucking get it.

You don't get to imply I'm living some kind of "forever vacation". It's perpetual pain. If you see me doing something I enjoy, it's not because it's what I'd rather be doing than being "productive". I fucking miss the gym but things like video games are just a much more accessible activity these days. I'm not "lounging", I don't get a break from the pain just that sometimes I'm able to take my mind off of it

Unemployment isn't some kind of break or excuse to not participate in society (capitalism is garbage but being disabled=/=unemployed for the hell of it). For reasons, I fell behind in school, bad. But I got myself a diploma equivalent and finally felt I'd chosen the line of work I wanted. I had connections, opportunities. I had fibro and some fatigue (unknowingly CFS as that was manageable) but I was getting PT and managing it as best I could. All I needed was to take courses and I was ready for that even with the difficulty of my then undiagnosed ADHD.

And then I got sick, really sick. Worst mono infection my doctor had ever seen due to medical neglect, Shoutout to those shitty CVS minute clinics. It made my ME/CFS so much worse, I was stuck in bed all the time before getting put on Adderall for my then newly diagnosed ADHD. Then I thought the fatigue was finally healing and a side effect of Adderall was a huge crash and wave of fatigue. No it turns out when it wore off I just felt the fatigue again lmfao

I was told I'd be better within 6 months. Okay so I can opt for the Spring semester, no big deal. 8 months go by, a year, a year and a half. I waited and waited. Hoping that "when I get better" I could be caught up with everyone else I knew my age. That was over 7 years ago. Do people think I wanted that all taken from me? To get progressively worse and worse?

Do they think loss of agency is something I enjoy? Needing help, being unable to drive, to enjoy my old hobbies, cook for myself regularly? I've been accused of enjoying this and not wanting to get better as if this hasn't put my head in very dark places. Sometimes I feel like I see a way out of this and it isn't recovery. They don't get it. I don't enjoy being heavily medicated but I know I need to be. I don't enjoy having things purchased for me because I want more financial independence. I don't enjoy feeling like a leech, actually.

It's not a vacation, it's hell. You can go on about how much more exhausted you are because you work or whatever but the thing is I don't need a job to feel what you feel after working. I feel like I worked a 12 hour shift after taking a shower on some days, no exaggeration. You can't compare your able bodied exhaustion to the effects of a chronic illness that fucks you up without you needing to work a full time job. This is my full time job and it wasn't the one I was hoping for exactly

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

i love your works!! Sooo... I was wandering if you could do a small thing about a reader with ME/CFS (more commonly known as chronic fatigue syndrome). It's a horrible condition to deal with as someone who likes to do dance and cheerleading... muscle pain that takes forever to go away,. constant exhaustion paired with insomnia and more...

I was thinking like a fluffy ass comfort fic with reader x sirius black? or any of the maruders.. with a twinge of reader pushing their self to do too much? Of course, only if you have time <3 MWAH <3<3

Thank you for the compliment, and I really hope you enjoy this!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader Summary: Sirius comforts you when you push yourself too far. Tags: disabled!reader, depictions of chronic fatigue, exhaustion crash, reader's body not cooperating, reader's frustration with limitations, hurt/comfort, soft!sirius, sirius takes care of you, affirming love in illness, emotional intimacy, use of y/n, chronic illness as a character, reader has a complicated relationship with their body, warm domestic moment, exhaustion as a second skin, dance as escape, comfort through presence, sirius being the softest bastard alive Word count: 1.2k words.

You don't mean to overdo it. Really, you don't. But the rhythm of movement, the throb of music through your body—it's easy to lose yourself in the stretch and leap of limbs, in the exhilaration of exertion. Dance has always been your refuge when words feel inadequate. Cheerleading, too—the high energy, the precision, the thrill of performing. It feels like freedom. Like fire. Like claiming space in a world that sometimes seems determined to make you small.

But today, your body is adamant that there are limits.

You sit on the edge of your bed, legs trembling slightly, arms feeling strangely heavy. Sweat still clings to your skin even though you stopped practicing routines over twenty minutes ago. The headache pulses in time with your heartbeat, a dull ache that grows sharper with each passing second. That familiar fog is creeping into your mind, blanketing thoughts and making every breath feel like work. Your skin feels too tight, too hot—exhaustion wrapping itself around you like a second skin, one that sleep won't peel away. There's a strange buzzing beneath your skin, a dissonance in your muscles that makes it hard to even lift your arms. Your joints ache, your vision blurs at the edges, and each movement feels like wading through molasses.

This is the part you hate.

The door creaks open, a sliver of light piercing the dim room. Your heart recognises the footfall even before your mind does—it's Sirius. He never knocks, not when it comes to you. His presence fills the space like a silent song, threading through the air with an ease born of intimacy.

"Hey, sweetheart," he murmurs, the word barely more than a breath. His voice is an anchor in the shifting darkness, something real amidst the ghosts of your thoughts. You glimpse his silhouette in the doorway—tall, solid, unyielding—before your eyes drift shut again.

When you open them, he's closer, kneeling at the side of your bed. The worry lines etched into his forehead stand out starkly against his pale skin. His hair is dishevelled, as though he's been raking his fingers through it, and the collar of his shirt is stretched thin from wear. It's one of yours—the one you always steal back from him after laundry day.

A weak smile tugs at your lips, but it falls flat, the effort too great. "I'm fine, Sirius," you whisper, the words brittle and hollow.

His hands reach out, tentative and careful, to clasp your own against the cool fabric of the blanket. His touch is warm and steady, fingers calloused from years of wandwork but somehow always soft when they touch you. For a moment, you let yourself lean into the solace he offers, his heartbeat a soothing lullaby against the storm within.

"You don't have to pretend with me, love," he murmurs. The words are thick with a quiet understanding that winds its way around the hollow spaces within you, seeking to fill them with something other than pain.

You swallow hard, eyes stinging as they dart away from his gaze. "I just... I wanted to get it right. The routine. I was so close. If I could've just—"

"Y/N." Sirius's voice is a soft plea, filled with an ache that mirrors your own. He leans forward, resting his forehead on your knee, his breath warm through the thin fabric of your pyjamas. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone, least of all me. You're already the most incredible person I know, and you're trying so damn hard. That's more than enough."

Your chest tightens, and you take in a shaky breath, not trusting yourself to speak. He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes reflecting an unshakeable belief in you that both warms and breaks your heart. Because how can he see someone worthy when you often only see what's broken? But there he is, looking at you like you're everything he could ever hope for.

"I know it's hard," Sirius continues, his words falling gently between you, "that your body doesn't always cooperate. That the fatigue comes out of nowhere and flattens you, that just climbing the stairs can feel like summiting a mountain. That you wake up tired, and sometimes existing takes more energy than you have. But that doesn't make you any less. You're still you. You're still mine. And I love you—even when you're curled up in bed with heating pads and a scowl that could rival Snape's. Especially then. Honestly, you're absurdly cute when you're grumpy."

A small laugh escapes your lips, genuine despite the heaviness in your heart. "You think everything I do is cute."

"Obviously," he replies with a grin, both cocky and achingly fond. He reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch lingering as if imprinting the moment into memory. "But especially when you're letting me be here for you. Loving you means loving all of this, too. Even the hard days. Maybe especially the hard days."

You lean into Sirius, your body finally surrendering to his embrace. His arms are strong and sure around you, and the warmth that radiates from him is like a beacon cutting through the cold fog of your exhaustion. There's a gentle sway as he shifts his weight, an unconscious mimicry of a dance, slow and soothing. The rhythm aligns with your breaths, in and out, until they mirror each other—a silent symphony lulling you deeper into this moment.

Your cheek rests against his shoulder, and you turn your face towards his neck, inhaling deeply. There's a familiarity to his scent that tugs at a memory buried deep within you—wood and warmth, a hint of leather and mint, and something else that you can't quite place but feels like home. It's comforting, grounding, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, you allow yourself to relax fully into the man you love.

"Okay," you murmur, your voice so quiet it's barely more than a thought carried on a breath.

"Okay what?" His voice is a soft rumble, vibrating through his chest and into your ear.

"Okay... you can take care of me. Just for a little while."

His lips brush the top of your head, cool and comforting, as a smile curves against your hair. "That's all I ever wanted," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. His arms tighten around you, solid and sure. "Let's stay here as long as you need. Or forever. I'm okay with forever."

For the first time today—maybe all week—you let yourself believe it's enough. That you are enough. That he loves you not despite your illness, but with it. Through it. Fully.

In Sirius's arms, the world feels less chaotic, the edges of your worries blunted by his unyielding presence. The tension in your muscles begins to ebb, replaced by a sense of calm you've forgotten how to feel. He hums a familiar tune against your head, each note vibrating with promise, with understanding, with love.

And for now, that's more than enough.

[cripplecharacters]

Hi there! I'm working on a modern supernatural story, and I've got a side character (the main character's best friend) who deals with chronic fatigue syndrome. He's a sweet, goofy, confident guy, and he has friends who are happy to change plans to accommodate him when he has flare-ups. They'll also help him out with chores or errands when he needs, with his consent. Naturally he gets bummed about his condition from time to time, but he's accepted that it's how he lives and with the help of therapy he's found ways to manage it. He also has plenty of hobbies and interests and grievances outside of his condition.

My question is this: I have a side-plot where the characters learn that a vampire has been feeding off him for weeks without his knowing, most likely using some kind of hypnotism. I'm wondering if the effects of consistent blood loss - fatigue, headaches, dizziness, etc - could reasonably be chalked up to a particularly bad CFS flare-up. Or would that be something where it's more likely he would notice the difference in severity of his symptoms and realize something else was wrong? Assuming the vampire can heal up any bite marks he leaves.

For the sake of clarity, he's had CFS most of his life and I'm taking care to avoid implying that it has anything to do with the vampire attacks. I'm just wondering if his symptoms would help hide the feedings or not.

Thank you!

The short answer: absolutely yes, this seems like it could be chalked up to a bad flare-up.

The long answer: I'm going to use the CDC's description of CFS/ME to lay out pretty exactly why it would work for both you and anyone wondering why exactly it would work.

A list of symptoms from the CDC has 3 core and 2 that you only need 1 out of 2 symptoms to have CFS.

Core: Lowered ability to do usual activities due to fatigue [that is not relieved by sleep/rest] that wouldn't have been an issue before illness

Core: Post-exertional malaise (PEM), which is a worsening of symptoms after physical or mental activity that wouldn't have been an issue before illness. Often described as a 'crash' and can include feeling dizzy, having difficulty thinking, headaches, or feeling ill. It can take days, months, or longer to recover from a crash and it's hard to predict how long a crash will last or what will cause it.

Core: Sleeping problesms; even a full night's sleep doesn't help symptoms much and might not help at all. Might have trouble falling or staying asleep.

Other: Problems with thinking and memory, like 'brain fog' or slowed thinking or trouble remembering things or paying attention.

Other: Orthostatic intolerance, meaning that symptoms can get worse while standing up. This can make people feel lightheaded, dizzy, weak or even faint.

I've bolded the symptoms on the list that match your stated symptoms of vampiric blood loss: "fatigue, headaches, dizziness, etc." and as you can see they match up pretty exactly!

Your character could perhaps do something that required a decent amount of mental or physical extertion, and perhaps it did or didn't cause a crash but at around the same time the vampire could have started to feed off of him. This might seem to prolong the 'crash' and your character might not think twice about it, just realize that they're feeling pretty miserable in a way not unknown to them.

I hope this helped!

PS, I really enjoy modern supernatural stories, and if you ever feel like sharing it I'd love to read this.

— Mod Sparrow

[thechronicelk]

My name is Galaxy. I start this blog tentatively in hopes of connecting with other chronically ill artists and finding a supportive community. I've gone a long time without a support network of people who actually know what I'm going through.

I have Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, also known as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (ME/CFS). I've been sick for around ten years. I don't usually talk about how intense this experience has been for me, because hearing about suffering can be uncomfortable, but I desire a place to talk openly about just how hard it is to deal with this.

What is ME like? It's like paying for every action you take. You may have heard of the spoon theory, but I haven't connected with it as much as some people have. Having ME for me is like being in a cage. It's like wearing weights everywhere you go. It's feeling like you've been hit by a truck. Everything you do hurts you sooner or later. But that's putting it lightly. If my life is a railroad, ME derailed the train completely. Everything I ever wanted to do, be, see, experience... it was all gone. All of my autonomy vanished.

These chronic conditions can look different for each individual. I've seen people who can't leave their bed, and I've seen people who are high function despite the pain, fatigue, and other symptoms they deal with. I myself fall on the more severe end of the spectrum. On a bad day, I lay in bed with my eyes closed and wait. All of my mental energy goes towards survival. Survival from debilitating pain. On good days, I get a few chores done and work on my artistic passions. It's all I can do.

But it's not just physical. Brain fog is another terrible symptom of ME that has altered my life irreparably. For me, it feels like I'm slowly losing my mind. It's like being an old phone that takes forever to load its applications, and often crashes in the process. Things I used to be good at, like memorization, improv, and especially reading, have become extremely difficult and exhausting.

This is why I say it feels like I'm in a cage. Between a dysfunctional body and mind, all I can do is exist. I can wait for a day when the fog clears a little, like today, and use the energy I have to try and be productive.

Sometimes it's exhausting to be positive, especially when things truly are not okay, and I think that's okay. I think it's okay to be upset by the hand you've been dealt, because it's not fair. It really isn't. I did everything right... and that's what's so tragic about this chronic illness. However, I hope that my words help someone feel seen, understood, and like they're not alone. Like even though things suck, we can live on. Because despite it all, there are things worth living for. I will not let ME kill me. I refuse.

[hellostarposts]

Episode 76 - The Smell of Blood

MELANIE

War ghosts???? I���m so in!

Is Melanie going to accidentally become a professional about ghosts for the institute? That would actually be so funny and drive Jon absolutely up the wall.

Ah Sarah Baldwin has disappeared.

YOU WENT BACK

More trespassing

I am not surprised by there being no genuine hauntings.

So Sarah Baldwin was like an amplifier for the spirits.

The social rules about the paranormal investigators is odd. Makes them all sound like fakes.

New job posting at the Institute: Professional trespasser.

CF Booth scrap yard

Train Graveyard.

Old train car that never gets scrapped? Is this the one that squishes people?

Dead bodies in the train

I was just joking about the professional trespasser.

Following the smell of blood is a terrible idea normally. But she’s a pro.

I hate how it’s in pristine condition

Serial numbers are good.

Is it fresh blood?

Hospital gurneys are not good.

Ah a silent hill body bag creature!

Who’s the stabber? A medic.

A scalpel sounds like a terrible stabbing tool.

At least you got a cool scar out of it.

WW2 military train car.

William W. Hay (was military, later an occultist.)

Had lots of heavily censored writings but the Institute has all the non censored versions.

He wrote the most detailed account of the crash.

They purposely crashed the train?

Jon is finally done drinking dumb bitch juice when it comes to Not-Sasha

So when does Melanie get a job at the institute? Because she’s got some skills with research even if it’s a subject that’s somewhat frowned upon by the institute. She’s got many permanent brain cells. Which the archives team desperately needs. If we start having to deal with a bloodthirst disease I might actually lose my mind. Because that’s what the description presented by William sounded like to me. Instead of theorizing too much I’m just going to push on to get more answers.

[nooneandeveryone]

I've mentioned this several times but I have ME/CFS and all the fun comorbidities that come with it (POTS, PEM, temperature intolerance etc.).

I'm doing pretty good. And I hate that I have to say this but I'm doing better than most of us.

I don't have the numbers in front of me but suicide rates are quite high. I think that's why I have trouble maintaining friendships with other ME/CFS sufferers. This might piss people off but the suicides piss me off. It's like having an ally who gives up. And to me, it's them telling me my life is worthless too. Of course, I doubt that the intent. It's just what it says to me. I have strong feelings relating to suicide which I feel are justified. I say this as someone who has had ideation, attempted(too sick to succeed), has one sibling hospitalized for his multiple attempts, another sibling voluntarily committed herself(bad idea by the way, doesn't help), lost my grandfather to it and felt reverberate through my father's actions.

Suicide is a personal act, however it has consequences you won't get to see. Generally people don't think about that, they think about the end of suffering. I may be pragmatic in that regard, death has no guarantee of an end of suffering.

Mini-rant done, back to my core point.

ME/CFS breaks people. I am only better off now because I was diagnosed early (13 years old) and I have ADHD(meds for it help with energy levels). I never had healthy 20s. I never got to be on the swim team or baseball. I never got to pull more than one all-nighter (violently sick for a week after) I can count on one hand how many times I've been drunk because guess what. It causes a backslide. Nausea is one of my crash symptoms, that with being hungover is a bad time.

People new to the club, unfortunately only see what they can't do. And yeah, I see it to. You need to know your limits. But here's the thing, if you really really want to do it... do it anyway. Plan for the crash. I went to parties in college with the understanding the next day would suck. I generally chose the parties that happened on fridays when I had no classes monday.

A lot of this, I understand cannot be done without a support system. Someone to take care of you or someone to cover your shift. Disability helps in that regard but isn't ideal either.

Pushing ourselves can make us worse. So... nudge yourself. Today, I transferred the kimchi into the smaller tub. Small chore. Today, I went down two flights of stairs to get my favorite drink. I purposely keep it in the basement to keep myself from losing mobility on my bad days. Sure, I curse my past self, but they're right.

I keep a supply of meal replacement shakes and protein bars for my worst days. Gatorade protein bars are current favorite for crunch. I really owe it to meat heads for the shake varieties.

Today, I'm going to cut up a pear and eat it. Doesn't seem big but it is. I'm bad at fruit. I don't like biting into apples or pears it has to be cut up.

As for fun, yeah a lot of my favorite fun things are either impossible or harder now. I found new favorites. Video games, obviously. Needlework. Drawing. Writing. Movies. Pets. Music. Colors. Bright pink clothes. Hair care.

Old favorites I miss: mountain biking, fly fishing(might still find a way), hiking, playing softball, cross country skiing, hunting, traveling to conventions(still somewhat possible).

Now, I can still do, on a occasion some of those! They just require more prep. I can technically do them all if I really really put my mind to it. It just won't look the same. I can't go as far and they can't last as long.

I left out one purposely. Woodworking. Because I can and can't at the same time. I can do it on good days. I can only do it for an hour a day. My projects take weeks and years. But, it makes me happy.

You are forced to find what makes you happy. You have no choice.

It's a hard to deal with. It's hard to only do what you love because it feels unearned. It's not unearned and suffering isn't noble.

The hardest thing I ever did for this disease is accepted I must find what makes me happy

[pansy-placebo]

CFS + ADHD is so weird

Trigger warning for stimulants; ADHD medication is central in this story; and other stims are briefly alluded to

If you didn't know, there's been an ADHD medication shortage in the UK (and a lot of the world) which has meant I haven't been able to get my hands on my ADHD meds AT ALL. for OVER YEAR.

And a bit over two weeks ago- out of nowhere- I found like a month's worth of ADHD medication. I'd lost it in the early days of the shortage, back when I just had to wait longer between meds, instead of never getting any. Back then it didn't matter if I misplaced a bottle here and there- even if I didn't get a refill immediately, as long as I didn't have anything too important, all I had to do was wait out the month for a new prescription.

But these days? Thanks to the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, I couldn't even do the things I used to do to cope with the ADHD before I had medication, like going on runs, so it's been completely unregulated. After a year of being completely unable to fill out any sort of forms, make phone calls, or draft emails by myself (and lots of other crucial stuff) - finding a bottle was a miracle!

I decided to put it to good use and get done what I've needed done for so long.

After a couple of test doses to be sure if was safe, I took a regular daily dose for four days in a row. It was four blissful days of actually, really cleaning the room I've stayed in for over a year, and decorating it! And doing the dishes for my partner for once, and sorting out old clothes from my wardrobe, and finally building the courage to contact the private ADHD psychs so I could get more ADHD meds in the future.

And all the sudden I felt sick, sick enough to know taking the meds would be a waste. And all at once, I had to stop taking it for WEEKS,

because I had overworked myself to the point of becoming physically ill and contracting an ear infection. But it wasn't just an ear infection, oh no- the ear infection travelled to my sinuses, and then throat, and then lungs. During which time it travelled back to re-infect my ears after they healed twice, which gave me vertigo that prevented me from doing anything but being nauseous and sad in bed. I took multiple COVID tests because it was. just. The same as getting COVID.

Now, I'm still super phlegmy and cough a lot, but at least I can breathe without my lungs making all these... wheezy cracky bubbly noises, and the world isn't spinning which is a huge improvement.

The reason I got so sick in the first place was because pre-shortage was also pre-CFS relapse, and I've never had an overlap of both having CFS and taking adhd meds before. So of course when I took my medication and felt wayyy better for a few days, I stupidly started to think the past year of exhaustion was just me lacking my medication. and not. like. my whole ass Syndrome. And so of course going full-speed ahead as though I'm not still dealing with a chronic illness crashed my already fragile-ass immune system. My body can't handle walking for more than a few minutes some days and forces me to take naps after every activity, so naturally spending a whole day walking around cleaning was going to fuck everything up. Glass bones and paper skin ass motherfucker.

Today I got well enough to take the medication again, so I did, with the express purpose of contacting my psychs to acquire a new prescription. So I filled most of their forms, I put some laundry in the wash and did some drawing. All in all, I did about as much as I'd do on a Very Good Day with CFS

But I have learned my lesson. I won't do more than the CFS would usually let me do on a good day, and make sure to focus my attention on more sedentary tasks so I don't destroy myself by jumping in the deep end again. Even though while medicated I may feel like a Task Machine, that doesn't mean I am a Task Machine. I am a human being with a chronic disease that Feels ✨Gone✨ when I take stimulants, and if I don't start acting like it then the chronic disease will only get worse until I Totally Can Feel It even with the stimulants. I did the exact same thing with other drugs when I was a teenager, so it could happen again.

TL;DR: man with the Always Sleepy disease takes medicine that makes him feel Less Sleepy, so he stupidly thinks he was faking the Always Sleepy Disease the whole time and acts like a healthy person without the disease for a few days, which makes his Sleepy Disease into Even Sleepier Disease and he sleeps Even More for weeks after

[thunder-the-ranger-wolf]

I whine about my health here so I'm putting it under the cut.

I haven't unlocked the key to my being in pain and exhausted all the time (joint hypermobility syndrome aka the lower end of the elher-danos scale is but one piece of the puzzle) but diagnoses like fibromyalgia and cfs/me were thrown around before everything was just lumped under JHS and everyone called it a day.

I had a much shorter time of not being believed (five years) because I crashed and burned in college and I had way bigger things to worry about than a "new" disability choosing to make itself known.

Leopard (my aunt) is better than Lion (my mother) about accomodating my constant exhaustion, and that's really all I can ask for.

I lasted a few months with Lion after college before I went to go live with Leopard, and Leopard took it in stride and focused on helping me do things like get out of bed and stay there (with what time she had. She's a busy woman and I can respect that.) But she accepted there was more to deal with after we kicked the depression/anxiety to manageable levels and the health journey continued. Yay Leopard! One of two Best Aunts Ever!

She still thinks that I shouldn't be exhausted all the time and she also believes eating the right foods and exercising can help manage my joint pain (she's kind of right but not entirely). Neither of us has the resources (time, energy, possibly money) for another health deep dive, but i'm learning to be okay with my physical state.

I start rambling and get really pissed off here so if you got this far you're awesome but please stop here. Mentsl state angst ensues!

My mental state is another question entirely and the answer is "nope, and probably won't ever be". Kudos to whichever deity had a hand in my fate. Thanks for the life-giving but I Just Wanna Talk (whose idea was it to give me half a brain?! Did you just think I wouldn't live long enough to hate it??! Is that what you banked on???)

*sighs* i hate having a disability there's literally never going to be a cure for. I hate thst i can't manage it by myself and will need people to remind me to do basic shit like brush my teeth. I hate that I can only be active for maybe four hours at a time before I need to crash, and that crashing can last anywhere froman hour or so to all day for multiple days. I hate that I have multiple projects that I want to finish but just can't bring myself to. I hate that the closest thing to this is adhd and some of the resources help but since its not, the things that would really help, like medication, supposedly won't work on me.

And, well, let's be real. I'm probably not as okay about my physical state as I could be, but damn if isn't way better than how I feel about my brain.

[compassionmattersmost]

Embracing the ME/CFS Crash: A Journey of Pacing, Overdoing, and the Practice of Witnessing

Reminder: If reading this post becomes tiring, remembert to pause and rest. Pacing applies to all activities, even the ones we love, like reading and learning. Come back to this post later if you need to. Practicing pacing, even in small moments, is an essential part of living well with chronic fatigue syndrome. Introduction There’s a rhythm to living with chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS), one…

[databent]

chronic illness whining under the cut 😋

so so fucking tired of my family telling me to "just prioritize working, you can rest afterwards" because they do not understand that i really CANNOT... im dealing with probably me/cfs which severely limits my energy levels and punishes me if i push through exhaustion and EVERYTHING takes energy, i feel like i CANT rest because even if i dont have to go in to work i still need to feed myself and run errands and take care of my cats and my frogs and water my plants and keep my floor clean enough to walk on and do paperwork for medical appointments and my family keeps asking me for favors that require me to interrupt my sleep and drive across town and what nobody seems to understand is that what other people think of as resting is Not restful for me!!! even a "low-stress day at home" when im in a crash takes like. all my fucking energy. and if i use said energy then it takes me even longer to recover from the aforementioned crash. when i say i need to rest i mean i need to REST i need to be in BED because im SICK and that concept is somehow so foreign to people and it frustrates me to NO END

[aspenmissing]

𝙿𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚖 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

Dean is sleeping on his stomach, and Y/N is sitting on the bed next to him, a book in hand. As the door opens, Dean awakens and slips a hand under his pillow for a weapon. As he turns to look, he sees Sam entering, carrying coffee and pastries.

"Morning, sunshine," Sam says, handing Y/N her coffee and pastry.

"Thanks, Sammy," Y/N smiles, placing her book down.

"What time is it?" Dean mutters, still tired.

"Uh, it's about five forty-five."

"In the morning?"

"Yep!" Y/N chuckles.

"Where does the day go?" Dean sits up. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours."

"Liar. ' Because I was up at three, and you were watching the George Foreman infomercial," Y/N says.

"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV."

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

"I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, it is."

"Look, I appreciate your concern."

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep our asses alive," Dean says, pointing to him and Y/N. "So we need you sharp," Sam shrugs.

"Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?" Sam crosses the room and sits on the bed Y/N's on, handing a coffee to Dean.

"Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know. This job. Man, it gets to you."

"You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that."

"So, what? All this... it never keeps you two up at night." Dean and Y/N shake their heads. "Never? You're never afraid?"

"No, not really," Dean and Y/N say in unison. Sam reaches under Dean's pillow to pull out a large hunting knife, then reaches under Y/N's pillow to pull out a handgun, holding them both up as evidence. Dean takes the knife back as Sam gives Y/N her gun back.

"That's not fear. This is a precaution."

"All right, whatever. I'm too tired to argue." Y/N's phone rings, and she answers it.

"Hello?"

"Y/N, it's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You, your brother, and your dad helped me out a couple of years ago."

"Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?"

"No. No. Thank God, no. But it's something else, and... uh, I think it could be a lot worse."

"What is it?" Y/N turns serious.

"Can we talk in person?" Y/N eyes, Dean and Sam. They looked back.

==

"Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favour, not the other way around. These two and your dad helped me out."

"Yeah, she told me. It was a poltergeist." Sam says, gesturing to Y/N.

"Damn right, it was a poltergeist who practically tore our house apart. Tell you something: if it weren't for these two and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?"

"Yeah, I was. I'm taking some time off."

"Well, he was really proud of you. I could tell. He talks about you all the time."

"He did?" He glances at Y/N, who nods with a smile.

"Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know, I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"

"He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now," Dean says.

"Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?" The twins laugh.

"No, not by a long shot."

"I got something for you guys to hear." They walk into the office. "I listened to this, and, well, it sounded like it was up your alley." Jerry puts the CF on the drive. "Normally, I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours."

"Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485—immediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your message:May be experiencing some mechanical failure... There is a loud whooshing sound."

"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. The cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people were on board. Only seven got out alive. The pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh, well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."

"You don't think it was?" Sam asks.

"No, I don't."

"Jerry, we're going to need passenger manifests—um, a list of survivors," Y/N asks.

"All right."

"And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean adds on.

"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage... fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance." Dean frowns.

"No problem."

==

Y/N and Sam are waiting by the car outside a copyjack. Dean exits and goes over to the two.

"You've been in there forever." Dean holds up three IDs.

"You can't rush perfection."

"Homeland Security?" Sam takes one of the IDs, and Y/N takes another. "That's pretty illegal, even for us."

"Yeah, well, it's something new. Do you know? People haven't seen it a thousand times." They get in the car. "All right, so, what do you get?"

"Well, there's EVP on the cockpit voice recorder," Sam says.

"Yeah?" Y/N questions.

"Listen." Sam plays the tape, which has been edited to pull out a scratchy voice.

"No survivors!"

"No survivors? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors," Dean says.

"Got me."

"So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?" Y/N says.

"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travellers."

"Mm-hmm."

"Or remember flight 401?" Sam asks.

"Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, and then the spirit of the pilot and co-pilot haunted those flights," Y/N says.

"Right."

"Yep."

"Maybe we have a similar deal."

"All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?" Y/N asks.

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey."

"Why him?" Dean asks.

"Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did," Sam replies.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, I spoke to his mother," Sam says. Max nods. "And she told me where to find him."

==

The Impala is parked in front of the gate to a building with a sign out front reading ‘RIVERFRONT PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL’.

==

Max is walking with a cane between Sam and Y/N, and Dean is walking on the other side of Sam.

"I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security.”

"Right. Some new information has come up. So, if you could just answer a couple of questions, Y/N asks.

"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything unusual?"

"Like what?"

"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices," Dean asks.

"No, nothing."

"Mr. Jaffey..." Y/N coughs, glaring at Dean.

"Jaffey," Max says.

"Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" Y/N says. Max nods. "Can I ask why?"

"I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash.”

"Uh-huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of."

Dean says.

"I... I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what.”

"No. No, I was delusional. Seeing things," Max says.

"He was seeing things," Dean says.

"It's okay. Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please," Sam says.

"There was...this-man. And, uh, he had these...eyes—these, uh, black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him."

"What?"

"He opened the emergency exit. But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tonnes of pressure on that door.”

"Yeah."

"This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage." Y/N says.

"What are you, nuts?" Sam tilts his head. "He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me."

==

The Impala pulls up in front of a house.

"So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C."

"Hmm. Man, I don't get how strong you are," Dean says as they get out of the car. "Even yoked up on PCP or something, there is no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight.”

"Not if you're human. But maybe this guy, George, was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe in human form," Y/N says.

"Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" Y/N turns to look at the perfectly ordinary house.

===

Dean, Sam, and Y/N sit across from Mrs. Phelps. Sam is looking at a framed photograph.

"This is your late husband?" Sam asks.

"Yes, that was my George.”

"And you said he was a... dentist?"

"Mm-hm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was terrified to fly? For him to go like that."

"How long were you married?" Y/N asks.

"Thirteen years," she replies.

"In all that time, did you ever notice anything strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?"

"Well, uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean." Y/N quietly sighs, and the three look at each other.

===

"I mean, it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense.”

"A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified. You know what we need to do is get inside the NTSB warehouse and check out the wreckage," Dean says.

"Okay. But if we're going to go that route, we'd better look for the part.”

==

Dean and Sam exit a store, wearing crisp black suits with white shirts. Sam adjusts his collar.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues brothers," Dean says.

"No, you don't. You look more like a... seventh grader at his first dance," a voice says. They turn around to see Y/N, also dressed for the occasion, smiling. Dean just glares at her.

"I hate this thing."

"Hey. You want to go into that warehouse or not?" Sam asks. They walk over to the Impala.

==

They enter the warehouse and show their badges to the security guard, who nods and lets them in. As they are walking among the plane wreckage, Y/N pulls out a device and puts earbuds in his ears.

"What is that?" Sam asks.

"It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies," Dean replies.

"Yeah, I know what an EMF metre is, but why does that one look like a busted-up Walkman?"

"Because that's what he made it out of. It's homemade," Y/N says as Dean grins.

"Yeah, I can see that." Y/N laughs when she sees Dean's grin disappear. Y/N runs the EMF metre over a piece of the wreckage with yellow dust on it and gets an audible spike.

"Check out the emergency door handle." Y/N scratches at the yellow dust and gets some on his hand. "What is this stuff?"

"One way to find out." Sam scrapes some of the yellow dust off into a bag.

==Outside==

Two agents in black suits approach the security desk and show their badges.

"Homeland Security? What, one team of you guys isn't enough?" The security guard asks.

"What are you talking about?"

"Three of your buddies went inside not five minutes ago. Two males and a smoking hot lady." The two agents look at each other.

==

The agents and several security guards busted in, guns down, and searched. Sam, Dean, and Y/N hear them coming. The agents and guards see nothing.

==

Sam, Dean, and Y/N peer around a corner and walk out casually. An alarm blares, and they run to the gated exit. Pulling off his suit jacket, Dean throws it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. Y/N does the same with her heels, and they climb over. Dean and Y/N grab the belongings they threw over.

"Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.”

"But heels do not," Y/N says as the two run off, followed by Sam.

==

Sam, Dean, and Y/N are in full research mode, with images and articles taped to the wall and strewn across the beds, and Sam is looking at something on the computers. Dean is reading something on one bed while sitting on the other. Y/N is looking at the articles that are taped to the walls.

"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it."

"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this," Dean says.

"Well, that's not exactly true. You see, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease," Y/N says as Sam looks over, astonished.

"What, I like Japanese culture?"

"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean gets up as Y/N walks up to Sam. "All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count."

"Yeah. You know, who knows how many places it's brought down before this one?" Dean snorts and turns away. "What.”

"I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons don't want anything, just death and destruction for their own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here."

"Yeah. Me too." Y/N also nodded in agreement. Her phone then rings, and she answers it.

"Hello?"

"Y/N, it's Jerry.”

"Oh, hey, Jerry."

"My pilot friend, Chuck Lambert, is dead."

"Wha-Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?"

"He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down."

"Where'd this happen?"

"About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth."

"I'll try to ignore the irony in that."

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon." Y/N hangs up.

"Another crash?" Sam asks.

"Yeah. Let's go."

"Where?" Dean asks.

"Nazareth."

==

Jerry is again looking through a microscope.

"Sulphur?" Jerry nods. "Well, that's great. All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.”

"With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news," Sam says.

"What's the bad news?" Y/N asks.

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight. And get this, so did flight 2485."

"Forty minutes? What does that mean?" Jerry asks.

"It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark; it rained for forty days. The number means death," Y/N explains.

"I went back, and there have been six planes crashed over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in."

"No survivors," Dean mutters. Y/N thinks.

"It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.”

==

Y/N is driving. Sam is on the phone. Dean is sitting shotgun, looking through some papers.

"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, and if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks." Sam hangs up. "All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.”

"So, our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker," Dean says.

"Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight p.m. It's her first night back on the job.”

"That sounds like just good luck."

"Y/N, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel," Sam says, glancing her way.

"Call Amanda's cell phone again; see if we can't head her off at the pass," Y/N says.

"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cell phone off," Sam says.

"God, we're never going to make it," Dean says.

"We'll make it."

[psychiatryemotionalhealth]

How to Manage Chronic Fatigue?

We’ve all had those days when we just can’t seem to shake off the exhaustion. But what if that “tired” feeling never really goes away? If your fatigue is constant, overwhelming, and affecting your daily life, you might be dealing with chronic fatigue, and no, you’re not imagining it.

Let’s break it down, human-to-human, and figure out how to manage it so you can start feeling like yourself again.

 What Exactly Is Chronic Fatigue?

Chronic fatigue is a long-term feeling of tiredness that doesn’t go away with rest. It’s different from simply being tired after a rough week or a late night Netflix binge.

Now, here’s the twist:Chronic fatigue is not the same as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS), also known as Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (ME). While they share symptoms, CFS/ME has a specific set of diagnostic criteria and often includes more severe symptoms like post-exertional malaise.

Regardless of the cause, managing the symptoms early can seriously improve your quality of life. So let’s dive into how you can do just that.

Understanding What’s Causing Your Fatigue

Here’s the deal: Chronic fatigue can have many faces.

Common Culprits:

Medical conditions like thyroid disorders, anemia, diabetes, or autoimmune diseases.

Mental health issues such as depression or anxiety (yep, mental stress is exhausting).

Lifestyle factors like poor sleep hygiene, lack of exercise, or you guessed it stress overload.

When should you see a doctor?If fatigue lasts more than six months or keeps you from doing what you love, it’s time for a proper medical evaluation. The first step in treatment is ruling out any underlying issues.

Medical Management: Let’s Get Professional

Once you’ve seen a doctor, you can start a plan that fits your specific needs.

What This Might Include:

Diagnostic tests to uncover hidden issues.

Medications to help with sleep, mood, or pain—like antidepressants or sleep aids.

Referrals to specialists such as rheumatologists or neurologists if needed.

Pro tip: Don’t try to push through fatigue like a superhero. Get help early—your body will thank you.

Lifestyle Modifications That Actually Work

You can’t medicate your way out of poor sleep and high stress. Lifestyle tweaks matter.

 Sleep Hygiene

Keep a regular sleep schedule (even on weekends!).

Make your room a sleep haven cool, dark, and quiet.

Address sleep issues like sleep apnea or insomnia with your doctor.

 Nutrition

Eat balanced meals think lean proteins, whole grains, and plenty of veggies.

Avoid the sugar-highs and caffeine crashes.

Hydrate like it’s your new hobby.

 Physical Activity

Start with gentle exercise: walking, yoga, or stretching.

Use the “pacing” method do a little, rest, repeat.

Listen to your body to avoid post-exertional malaise (yes, it’s a real thing).

 Stress Management

Try relaxation techniques like meditation, deep breathing, or journaling.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) can help reframe unhelpful thought patterns.

Set boundaries. It’s okay to say “no” to things that drain you.

Mastering Daily Energy Management

Think of your energy like a phone battery it needs to be recharged and used wisely.

 Pacing Techniques

Break big tasks into bite-sized pieces.

Use an activity diary to spot energy zappers.

Schedule rest breaks yes, even if you’re “just doing housework.”

 Tools That Help

Use planners, alarms, or phone reminders to stay on track.

Try assistive tools if needed, like ergonomic chairs or standing desks.

Modify your space to make daily tasks easier.

Don’t Go It Alone: Social and Emotional Support

Fatigue can feel isolating but you’re not alone.

Talk to your friends and family about how you’re feeling.

Join support groups (online or local). Sharing stories helps.

Find people who get it it makes a world of difference.

Thinking Long-Term: Adapting Without Giving Up

Life doesn’t stop, but it can pivot.

Reframe your goals to match your current capacity.

Track your symptoms some days will be better than others.

Advocate for workplace or school accommodations if needed. Your health comes first.

Final Thoughts: You’ve Got This

Managing chronic fatigue isn’t about finding a magic pill it’s about understanding your body, making small adjustments, and being kind to yourself.

Stay consistent, stay curious, and if things get worse, don’t hesitate to loop back in with your healthcare provider. At Psychiatry Services 4U, we’re here to walk this journey with you every step of the way.

[koyaildoesstuff]

Ways chronic fatigue has changed my life (Tw for nausea and cfs talk);

Today (May 12), is ME/CFS awareness day. Chronic fatigue is still not understood very well, and I can see why. Let’s go back to October of 2023. I’m sick. Like really sick. I’ve been losing weight because of how sick I am. I am also switching medication at this time, going off of a high withdrawal side effects medication to a med that doesn’t interact well with the other one. So I was weened off the first one as quickly as safely possible. Which caused max side effects. So not only was I sick, I was dealing with that too. I went to urgent care 2 times in 2 weeks. Even had the same person check up on me both times because small town. The sickness wasn’t covid or mono, and the fatigue I was feeling because of it wasn’t tick-borne or anything my bloodwork could indicate. So I got on nausea meds to help me keep my food down, went back onto a weekly meeting with my therapist instead of biweekly to help with the immense depression I was feeling (major depressive disorder), and figured the fatigue would clear up.

It didn’t. Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this post. Suddenly, my whole life changed. I was super dizzy just standing up to grab a paper from my teacher, and don’t even get me started on my weightlifting class. I could barely bench 25 lbs on a bad day, which they all seemed to be (my baseline is around 45-60 lbs, with a max of 110lbs)! I didn’t learn this until later, but cfs often starts after a viral infection (so me being really sick, or for example: long covid).

So, ways it changed my life, and stuff I wish I could tell October me:

- no longer could dance easily

- nausea and pain are still a problem

- not being able to take a break is horrible

- being forced to pretend you’re ok is so tiring

- people will pretend to care, but someone always actually does, you just have to find them and hold them tight

- brain fog is a bitch

- seriously. You will feel stupid, but you aren’t

- most people would call in sick if they spent even a single day in your shoes

- btw, migraines, tics, and random pains will get worse. You’ve cried yourself to sleep before because you just felt so icky. But it’s not the normal

- you will forget most of your memories, so enjoy them in the moment

- you continue doing activities you love, even if you have to be careful not to over do it

- on that note, if in ballet and your legs feel tired, please for the love of god, don’t go on pointe. You’ll manage to roll your ankle on flat shoe, don’t tempt fate

- however, appreciate how far you’ve come

- the last two years of dance have felt so good, because both years I was in a leading role, and I struggled every practice with it, but then I got on stage, and blew the audiences away. My crown from last year, when I played the evil queen from Snow White, means so much to me because it represents how I stuck through it. It felt like such an accomplishment to be on stage, doing what I love, not letting my disability get the best of me. This year too. There were days I would almost pass out. But we did it

- do the things you love. You’re going to have an energy crash anyways, so might as well have it be for something good

- be kind to yourself.

- do as Mr Rogers said, find the helpers. There is always someone who will be there for you. Don’t do it alone

- seriously, be kind and don’t be alone

- your disability will, yk, disable you. But you will overcome it eventually. It won’t be easy, but you’ve got it. We’ve got it.

We didn’t let it stop us, and we continue to preserve through all the hard stuff. It will get easier, the fatigue will let up a bit. But then you’ll have flare ups that are as bad as October. But you don’t let that stop you. You continue dance, French, orchestra, and do two years of physics, all while dealing with brain fog, pain, and fatigue.

You fucking little superhero, look at you go.

Go little rockstar ✨💜

And last, but certainly not least,

- tea is your best friend. Helps with grounding, and is a hug in a mug. Enjoy it. The small ritual of it will give you an anchor.

We’ve got this

-Koyail

To anyone who this post resonated with, you are not alone 💙

Borahae peeps

[lakeeffectbitch]

obviously not required to answer this - but do you think trying the malic acid supplement would help with chronic fatigue/post-exertion issues even if someone doesn't fit the exact criteria for cfs/me? i have hEDS/mcas/pots etc and deal with awful sleep issues and fatigue/brain fog/post-exertion crashes, and am kind of desperate for anything that can help lol. i do already have GERD and am on famotidine for histamine blocking/heartburn reduction, so idk if that would mess with the absorption etc

Hi, thanks for your message!

In principle I think it’s possible! I remember seeing a study supplementing malate in fibromyalgia that showed some benefit with a higher dosage over a few months.

Tldr I just can’t say for sure, both because there’s just not enough evidence in the literature investigating malic acid/malate in different illnesses, and because every body reacts to things uniquely.

I think it is most likely to have a positive effect for people who experience PEM and other hallmarks of ME/CFS (substantially reduced activity level, brain fog, potentially alcohol intolerance and signs of sex hormone dysregulation such as abnormal period cycles). That’s because I can directly tie together the known mechanisms of these symptoms with the malate-aspartate shuttle. But theoretically this same mechanism might be at play for more symptoms that I haven’t looked into yet.

I guess I would just advise caution since there’s no information about how it might potentially exacerbate other comorbidities. People on other forums have tried starting with a small amount of sumac or the supplement powder and increasing gradually so they can better monitor for adverse effects.

If you decide to try it I’d be really curious to hear your experiences! Crossing my fingers that it works for you.