“If I Just Lay Here…”


I had contemplated just ending this whole blog and dropping off of yet another map, yet I’m here sitting in the shed with the widows, staring again at this empty notepad because I have nothing else to do with all the negativity that’s festering inside of me.
*bitching warning ⚠️*

I’m not thinking clearly- of which I suppose is nothing new. I’m in pain; as I have been with an inescapably increased intensity for a while now. I can’t tell if it’s worse or it simply never gets any easier to tolerate. The intermittent headache has developed into a perpetually unalleviated throb that’s slowly been driving me insane for months, and feeling a bit warm has turned into a chronic fever. I’m so used to feeling like I’m about to toss my cookies that I don’t notice it so much anymore. What I thought was a six month long tension headache is now a full blown stiff-necked, achey flu- only the kind of flu you have for a year. I could go on for way too long with all the other inconsequential, weird ass symptoms I try to just ignore, but when my limbs feel like lead- it’s a very trying feat to simply ignore.
The meds that used to help with the headaches don’t do shit anymore, there’s not enough Pepto in all of Target, the pharmacy’s about to cut me off, and I can only float facedown in the pool for so long to try and ease the heat.
My life has become even more blurry than I ever knew it could. Feeling weak and in pain hour after day after week after month is seriously fucking with my head and rendering my fuse an inch long. I know I can handle it- as at this point I’ve come to expect nothing less from life than to be fucked in every which way possible until I finally find the guts to off myself. I mean, I’ve been known to filet my own skin and pour alcohol on the wounds, yet just can’t seem to get anything from this gnawing, maddening, full body nausea feeling that’s worn me to the bone weary. Painkillers don’t help and I don’t know if the stimulants are doing anything but pushing me closer to the heart attack my tight- chested, fluttering, racing heart is promising. There is no comfortable place or position.
I’m not keeping with working on my MH certification at the pace I had anticipated because my attention span is akin to a drugged up squirrel when all my brain can think about is the pain and how to get it to stop. I got so desperate I decided to give the MJ hype another shot. Though ALOCs have never been my favorite thing, people frequently tout Sativa for helping pain, nausea, and depression. I’ve yet to receive any benefit beside a sudden impulse to clean the entire house and clear my room of my belongings. Not necessarily a bad thing. it keeps me moving with no duty to continue so. But It’s a battle by the minute to not break down and let it take over when it seems like my whole world has become pain.

I’m honestly starting to look at things a little differently, feeling more and more that this life is just a brief dream-or nightmare- from which I’ll soon wake from and consequently laugh at just how engrossing a life so trivial seemed at the time.

I sure hope so, otherwise this is all about nothing but being born to be fucked and shamed. 

Much to my usual acquired resistance to antidepressants, I decided I needed to start again after a recent trend of depression sleeping- a thing I’ve never, nor will ever permit as acceptable for myself. They may be helping a little, as evidenced by my sudden eagerness to actually utilize my vehicle to go wherever for whatever reason seems half credible. I need to have another of those days that I miss: turning off the cell phone and driving along the coast while tearing through hundreds of nostalgic songs. I’m not sure yet if it would be the same or better without the company- of which oddly enough- Caden has been stuck in my head again after a peculiar dream and the unshakable feeling that something was going on in his current marriage. Well, as I was driving around town making excuses to pace stores for pain distraction, I decided to stop by an old friend’s house to check up on her. I knew her through Caden, because we used to have dinner there every Monday night and then just lay on the back porch swing until we fell asleep.
When her husband opened the door, he gave me an even more ill- tempered glare than usual and directed me down the hallway. The house didn’t feel right- very inordinarily heavy and oppressive, and she had always been in the kitchen.

She was lying on her bed, curtains drawn, with oxygen tubes on her face. Her face looked grey – completely different than I’d ever seen her look and her notorious spark absent for the first time. She’d lost at least 20-30lbs and her bedside was strewn with the translucent orange pill bottles that I could identify as Norcos. I was instantly afraid to think that she could die this time, I mean she is 71. All I could do was lie down next to her. She talked about being in a lot of pain, that the painkillers weren’t working, and that she was too nauseous to eat. She filled me in on how her husband was still struggling to have compassion for her sickness, and didn’t need to vocalize to me that she felt isolated, burdensome, and alone in things she couldn’t control. I happen to know *just a little bit* about that and wondered if part of what I’m going though allows me to have a more personal compassion for her when the other people in her life couldn’t understand.

She went on about a few other things and then very abruptly informed me that Caden had just separated from his wife. I don’t know why it shocked and upset me so much. I suppose I had hoped that he finally found what he had been seeking and was happy. Maybe he is- but I wouldn’t know.

Yet, I often feel so foolish when people from my past continue to show up in my dreams, thoughts, and feelings from a distance; always feeling that I can’t seem to forget anyone or anything- even long after I’ve been forgotten. Why are some ties so much more difficult to break than others? As of recent events and much observation, I’ve come to my own conclusion as to why- why we collide with some people who instantly change us, while others over time have no effect in our souls.  However,  I’ll save that rant for another time.

I don’t have any witty lines or anything to say that even vaguely resembles closure, as I’m very much in a suspended state. So…congrats on getting this far with reading this.

You’re awesome-

Keep that shit up.

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