Living Through My Toughest Months of the Year

It’s the end of April, and normally this is around the time when my vague symptoms start creeping in. Unfortunately, this year things kicked off much earlier—by early March, I was already feeling the first signs.

It Started with Subtle Restlessness

It began with a few days of intense physical restlessness. After about four days, my legs started acting up again. At first, it’s pretty mild. I notice it mostly at night when I go to bed—I can feel the restlessness in my legs, but I’m still able to fall asleep fairly quickly.

That changes fast.

Within a week, the leg restlessness becomes stronger. But it doesn’t stop there—I start feeling a strange, full-body kind of restlessness. It’s like I’m being kept awake by something, like a chemical in my system. Imagine drinking four strong coffees right before bed—that kind of jittery, wired feeling. I want to sleep, I need to sleep, but my body is buzzing, wide awake.

That Tingling, Bubbly Sensation

My legs begin to tingle, sometimes with a strange “bubbling” sensation—like there’s fizzy soda running through them. And as weird as it sounds, even my bed starts to feel different. In the winter, I can snuggle in and find a comfortable position easily. But now? It’s like my skin reacts differently to the bed. As strange or impossible as it sounds—it’s very real for me.

The Bad Season Has Officially Started

So here I am, about four weeks into what I call the “bad season.” Based on previous years, this will probably last until November or December. That means roughly 8 months of struggling, followed by 4 months of recovery—just in time for the next round.

Getting Through It, One Day at a Time

So, what does this look like in daily life? For the next few months, I try to get by using a bit of creativity. I take short naps during the day—no longer than an hour—to help stay functional. Sometimes I’ll take sleep meds in hopes of falling asleep quickly and beating the leg restlessness. But to be honest, that rarely works. The hyperactive feeling often overrides the meds entirely.

I also try mild painkillers and calming supplements—sometimes they help a little, but most of the time, they do nothing at all.

By July, I usually hit a wall. I’m burned out. I can’t manage a normal day anymore, I can’t work, and I end up on sick leave. Not working does at least allow me to rest when my body needs it—since the restlessness often spills into the daytime too, not just the evenings and nights.

Mentally and Physically Drained

This whole period is brutal—physically and mentally. Eventually, I try to bring back some structure to my days by working from home for an hour or two. I build this up slowly, maybe an hour every 2 or 3 weeks. Somehow, I always manage to find a path through the chaos, slowly moving toward the calmer part of the year.

By October, the symptoms usually start to ease up. And by November or December, I’m finally free from the restlessness—in both my legs and my body.