A swirl of negativity after yesterday’s cascade of gentle positivity, yesterday’s visual exercise in peace and calm. It’s all body-centered. I don’t feel well, in a really generalized sort of way, I don’t know why, and it’s 3 weeks until I can fight through this massive kudzu maze of health care phobia to address it. So even though I felt alright yesterday, and the day before and I’ll feel alright tomorrow, right now, I feel like this blecky feeling is forever and that’s freaking me out. I’ve been dull in the brain and freaked out all day. But it wasn’t even all day. It was moments, and then I forgot, put my head down into my phone and made the muscle movements that hurt me so much, and I sit here exhausted and seemingly confused. Also, hey, there’s the fact that I stayed up late last night trying to watch all of the first episode of Berlin Station, and woke up at an odd hour and had to force myself back to sleep. And then, I didn’t eat more than a Lean Cuisine and an apple and yesterday I ate all kinds of crappiness and had coffee after lunch which made me jittery on a convoluted ride home. See, there’s a panoply of reasons and explanations for today’s off-ness, not only that, I could take some aspirin, I could use the massager, I could use the icyhot. But I feel so wigged out that to do anything to improve my situation is to acknowledge that there’s something wrong and we can’t have anything go wrong. It has to just be okay. And it will. But sitting in this space between the insistent thought of what I demand of myself but have no control over and the control I can take to resolve problems, I find myself building a castle, carving a gravestone, thinking of all of the obituaries I’ve read of late.
How is that we can write about ourselves day in and day out and still believe the same old lies? How is it that the patterns are so strong that no matter how many times we diverge from them, we find our way back down the primrose path? How is it that, at some point, we make one turn or another that we never perceived ourselves as being capable of making and in that instant, it is nothing. It is natural. It is life.
I feel like I’m both a failure and an incomplete success.
And now I have hiccups, Jesus Chroyst.
Pearls to clutch:
- Who knows, but someone applied to a job (not me) and who knows, they might get it.
- Berlin Station was surprising in ways that surprised me (including the website dying halfway through, and Richard Armitage in states of extreme undress)
- I got some money today. This means some bills can get paid tomorrow.
- I have projects that will be fun, joyful, good once I turn that part of my head off that thinks they should have magically been that way with no effort on my part.
- I have some sense. Right? Maybe? Right.