Day 221

***From the bedside of a self loathing sickie***



Tissue line the floor around my bed like oversized snowflakes in February.


Ill is such a small word for how great it can wreak havoc on your body.



Today I learned sickness. Self pitying, germ infested little girl whine fest. I want my crazy squirrel! And I want my rainbow brite! Why can't I find them??

I hate being alone when I'm sick. I mostly hate being alone, but especially when I'm sick. I think I revert to being a 5 year old. Corrrection: 5 and 3/4.


Just 24 hours ago, my health was fine. How quickly and dramatically changes can occur, often without time to even notice or register it. One night living together, the next, apart. One day with a job, the next, canned. One afternoon, a storm and in minutes, a rainbow.


Being sick is like losing your voice. You feel completely helpless and alone. No one understands (so you fear) just you and the Big G, minute by minute, hour by hour getting through and you lay, disheartened, weak, sans the energy to care much yourself. And sleep. You just sleep, hoping one of the times you awake it will all have been a dream. ALL of it. The white rabbit will steal your clock and you'll chase after it and find someone else chasing along the way. So for the first time in what feels like years you remember you're not alone. And what simple bliss to finally be holding their hand again.


Fevers induce all sorts of delusions (you're telling me, the rabbit is taking a nap on the edge of my bed!) The sickness prompted conviction that this somehow changed things, that what had been done would be undone. Isn't it time for a Disney movie and storytime, after all? I could certainly use a song. Guitar chords make pain so much sweeter.


Stumbling over old convictions, I remembered you just gotta listen to clarity and change your mind.

"Transition.

This is the desert. This is suburbia. Perpetually back and forth between two places I previously wanted nothing more than to vacate forever. This cycle is becoming predictable. Live here again. Start working there again. Go to school here again. The riddle is left unsolved, good try and now it is time to start back at the beginning. I am all too tranquil in this static state of unrest, settled in the arbitrary idea of not settling. It appears that I am quite afraid of reaching a place; hence I subconsciously take the cycle into my own hands. Perhaps if I venture to make plans for the first time in my life, some clarity will finally ensue, and I will be able to truly commit to something. I revoke this living in the moment. It was fitting for a time, but has turned out to be a very selfish way of going about things. And I am also done running. And appeasing others. Although far from lucid and unobstructed, a juvenile attempt is made here on my part as well to telegraph feelings- to communicate. This is what I have learned between beginnings. "