I’m still here.
I guess that’s good news. Tears are just below the surface, ready to fall at the slightest provocation. It’s still annoying because there is nothing, nothing, wrong in my life right now. Except that I have wacky brain chemistry.
Feeling like I do now, maybe my life is something of a challenge.
For those of you new, or who only read this and the last post, there is sort of a method to the madness, if you’ll pardon the pun. This most recent episode began with the post Being Vulnerable and continues with A Conversation with D After Shul, before all hell breaking loose in It’s Here.
Last night, after alternating between escape into a good book and crying my eyes out, I finally took a single Tylenol PM at 1am. I had to sleep, and while I’m not in favor of using drugs unless I have to, this seemed like a “have to” situation. I fell asleep, don’t remember any dreams, and woke at 11am. One of my children woke in the middle of the night with a croupy seal-bark cough, a sore throat, and a low-grade fever, so my husband decided to work from home and take care of all of us.
He is an amazing human being and I don’t know what I did to deserve him.
He read “It’s here” from last night. It was interesting because he said he read pain and hopelessness in the post. I didn’t. I read pain and anger. Maybe it was all the references to fighting.
I’m so tired. My mind is numb. It’s an effort to write anything. But at least the horiffic images of spoons becoming weapons and head-pounding and spilled blood are gone. For now.
Thanks for bearing with me.