The good news: Sheba walked like old times at Rollo Park in the morning, and in the afternoon, she was a trooper walking the Elder Cedar trail. It might have made me very happy were it not for the other news.
The other news: I was a zombie all day. MY feet shuffled along the ground; I had not the energy to life them. My face felt flat and expressionless all day. All I wanted to do was sleep. I had a spa, but my eyes were closed the entire time; I wanted to sleep.
Some plants needed watering but there was no way that I was taking anything on. Instead, I checked the weather and saw that rain was expected today and for the coming two days, so I saw no need to push myself. I soothed myself and kept myself from worrying by believing that today I’d feel better.
More Good News: Sheba walked the Elder Cedar trail in the early afternoon. Today, Sheba spent the day in great form. I am concluding that our future will change day to day. Half-way through our walk, I sensed a slight improvement in me. I will know if I talk to someone. I’d love to run into a friend and see what happens.
I find it terribly difficult to name feelings often. I understand a lot of feelings such as jealousy, hunger, love, anger; I have a decent emotional vocabulary. But most of the feelings I’ve had, often in extremis, that I cannot name. This comes up often with Dr. S.
I feel flat, numb, detached, sad. I’ve always been a happy person. I’ve been one for repartee. All my adult life I’ve harboured a catty bitch within, whenever I said what she would say, I cock my hip, and I take a big drag on an imaginary cigarette while holding two fingers across my mouth. Her best line ever is one shed say to anyone who criticised her: “If that had come from someone I respect, I’d pay attention. But you!”
I am extremely uncomfortable around anger, even if it is not directed at me. It doesn’t surprise me given my past with Don. I’m a runner, not a fighter. I think that may be partly why I used my quick wit to make people laugh.
That part of me died yesterday. I don’t feel inclined to accept invitations, and I have a dinner with friends Monday evening. I’m not sure at this point what I am going to do about that. I’ll see how today goes.
The sadness I feel isn’t attached to anything at all. I have no idea why I feel very, modestly sad. Flat. I feel very tired. I want to sleep, so I took naps. I function, but my joy of life feels gone. There! That’s how I feel: Like the joy of life is gone.
My love of my pets thrives, thank goodness. I maintain the fire. I can do what needs to be done, but the Summer will be challenging if I don’t snap out of this.
This doesn’t feel like a symptom, but how would I know. Three weeks to Dr. S.
I smelled a flower. That made me feel good. So, that’s good.
I’m discovering a new personality. That has begun. I am going to sleep tonight hoping I awaken as myself again. This has never ever happened to me before.
The way I feel now, there is no fucking way I would do what I did last Saturday. I could not be a performer feeling as I do. I don’t feel optimistic about talking to friends. I fear I’ve lost my desire to converse.
I called Dwight. He has my power of representation. There are three options: slow recovery, permanence, and getting worse. I called Dwight. I wanted to see what would happen. I told him the whole story like a dead man. My head hung low, and I talked funny, a voce without variance, low and like an old dying man. But I could speak. Slowly, flatly, dully, and with my eyes closed. But I could speak. And I didn’t stutter. I didn’t stutter.
He’s going to stay in touch. That’ll help me stay sane until I see Dr. S. in three weeks. Dwight is my rock. Dr. S. is my safety net. I don’t panic; I wait. I’m glad it isn’t summertime. I could not handle watering the gardens right now.
I keep the place warm. Sadly, I don’t want to read.
Something is mighty wrong.
Stay tuned….
•
The rain has started. It may last today, tonight and tomorrow. I’m very happy to see my garden beds get a good drink.
I promised Dwight I’d call him at 9:00, or shortly thereafter. I don’t have good news. I’ve been feeling very dark. I cancelled my visit to neighbours today, and my Monday night date for dinner with other friends. I’ve also written to Aidan telling him I’m taking time off for a bit. My new depressed personality is still here. Que sera, sera.
I’ve written again to Dr. S. asking if I can write to her periodically until our appointment. I said I don’t expect her to read my emails; she can do that when my appointment date comes. But I feel better writing to her. It lessens my fears.
I feel very vulnerable. I fear another massive seizure when I am here alone. I am going into the village to fetch Lorazepam that was prescribed in the clinic. It seemed to help me get out of the seizure. I will feel safer having some on hand.
Today’s going to be a long and hard day.
No comments:
Post a Comment