so today is crap day. literally. preparing for colonoscopy and endoscopy. literally. crap day. banana popsicle day. lemon jello day. maybe another lemon ice. coffee. water. diet coke. cigarette day. boo.
haven't had any thoughts of God or goodness. haven't written anything at all. haven't had much brain to work with.
got up stupid early yesterday. 3:30 am. read an article. read another article. at 7:00 am when dale got up i couldn't even remember the first article. had to look back to see what i had read. and i was paying attention. i think it must be the Lamictal as i am also having difficulty getting words out. as in, that thing you make ice cream with. eat ice cream with. that thing in the kitchen that cooks food. sometimes i will try to get a word out and i can hear the word i can feel it on my tongue but it won't come out. of course this is scary like alzheimers. but i must not entertain such thoughts. for i will go quite mad.
in the midst of all this my mood is mostly fine. but tired of being nauseated. tired of gut pain. but i have not had a blow-blown attack. see? i meant to write full-blown. stuff like that. i will type a word, like memories, when i meant to write emails. or some other word not even remotely related to what i was going to write. this is very different from writing 'except' instead of 'emails.' or 'energy.' that is bad and scary enough.
i think i will really scare myself and watch Still Alice today. which is what i generally do. when i'm dark i watch dark things. when i was working on Click i watched Premonition over and over as it had the same atmosphere as my novel.
i can't imagine i will do much today. on crap day. maybe sleep a little? maybe read if i can stay awake. very very sleepy today. maybe a good time to do some submissions? maybe ponder more how death would be okay?
i feel as though i have lived a full life. sometimes. and i wonder how much longer i will be here. i have always been afraid to go. afraid that there will be nothing after i'm gone. food for worms. now i am not afraid of death. i am only afraid of pain.
and this is no wonder. considering all the pain i've been in the last three years. mental. physical. feet to head.
and i have withdrawn into myself. no face book. no phone calls. not because i am depressed. just because i do this sometimes. i draw the strings over my head and crouch. hunker down. become still. sort of. until i burst and must see friends.
my head is fuzzy and useless. which is the perfect day to do nothing but watch tv and movies. which makes me feel useless because i always feel like i should do useful things every day. or something that masquerades as a useful thing.
give yourself a break, rebecca.