Don’t Read this Post

 

There’s really no way to sugar coat it-

Today was fucking shitty. 

So I’m just going to bitch about it, because that’s what this cyber space may actually be for- or at least on Fridays it is.
Due to my body’s idea that it would be awesome to keep me up all night by sneezing every 4 1/2 minutes- I had the worst migraine of my life all day today, of which no number of painkillers, wishful thinking, or accessory drugs even touched. Days like today I’m reminded just how much the chronic headaches and exhaustion consume and color everything an even darker black; how much more tolerable the world is in the hours that it’s not there, and how difficult it is to remember in the middle of pain what oxygen feels like.

Turns out I that actually came down sick with some influenza virus in addition to the usual. No big deal, only that it’s strange being that I haven’t been sick with just a simple virus in probably 4-5 years. Being sick makes me feel 16 again- my second least favorite age. I was always catching something then, and I can’t help but wonder if my immune system sucked so much as a result of feeling powerless after being stuck for four months in a UCLA juvenile neuropsych ward; I loathe even the memory of that next year of trying to get myself back together.

 

So after an agonizingly long, useless day there’s always Tomorrow (and if there’s not, then no loss) and just the same, tomorrow I know I’ll do everything that I can.

But Damn, do those days add up–    the ones that feel like a waste and that maybe all I am afterwards is older.
I welcome the turn to fall; given that I’m hot blooded and cold- hearted- Summer usually feels like being perpetually trapped in a beat up, black Jeep in the sun with no AC. No personal experience there… Navigating the summer with a fever doesn’t make things any easier. Yet fall always reminds me of when I used to just sit outside the old Conkey’s coffee shop at the little round table with the short, rickety leg and caffeinate myself until my brain stem told me I was adequately manic, about to have a seizure, or actually did- though even I have better ways to spend my time than in the ER again.

 

The winds always take me back to high school when I would ditch class and go sit in the school attic reading the dark novels a Christian school rather discouraged. I miss sitting there, watching the wind and actually not feeling guilty about doing nothing. There’s something about the chaos in the winds that I’ve long found soothing- and living in the valley of the Winds, there’s plenty of it.
The distinct aroma on the winds of dried leaves and peppermint chapstick, along with all those deranged pumpkin-spice-fuckin-everything people walking around; it all once made me feel as if there’s was a strange feeling of temporary okayness despite the inescapably coinciding sense that it’s all fucking pointless anyways.
I was disappointed that after the couple of good days, another bad week followed. But I’m really trying to not get stuck in the same thought patterns- but to create, think on, and really believe bringing a new chapter in my life. As much as I perhaps shouldn’t voice it- it’s obviously more easily said than made true heart knowledge and faith. It often feels like trying to convince myself that even though it’s been raining for the last 1,430 days that it’s going to be clear and sunny next Tuesday. I keep running into my own quantifiable doubt.

I seriously need some help believing here.

 

So on one of those good days, I decided that I was going to go back to church for the first time in over three years. Honestly, after everything, church doesn’t exactly evoke excitement within me, but I figured at least I could meet some decent people there, and if I continued to feel well could make a friend, or at least something of similar resemblance. Despite being ushered up to a front row, I was lucky enough to not be recognized by most old acquaintances.
I know, I don’t recognize me either. 

Though after a few looks, Caden’s family recognized me and we talked for a bit. Maybe God did hear me when I said I was finally done praying for him, because they told me when and how everything went down and after it all, he’s home and OK. Now let’s hope that it’s my turn.

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