I don't really know if I can explain
it.
For over a year, I am often feeling like I am living in a kind of dream. It's not a developing dream. No stories are being forwarded. No messages are being received. No learning is occurring.
I can't even really say that I feel as if I'm waiting. Because I don't.
I just feel as if I'm here, and that's it.
I feel every bit the blob of jelly that I look like and often think I am becoming as my body gives out on me; one limb or one system at a time. I don't -- I can't repeat this enough-- i do NOT feel as if I'm waiting for a "system collapse."
I'm just here.
I just am.
Yesterday, I was good. I even managed to do some active weeding and replanting in my flower beds. I didn't get it all done, but I got more done than just chopping the weeds (grass) out of the open spaces between plants.
Yesterday was my mother's birthday, but as a family we largely ignored that fact. Patrick Stewart got a lot of well-wishes, though. And Cheech Marin. Really, I was glad that I wasn't having any of those brain blip conversations with her. Until recalling her birthday I hadn't realized that those were happening less often. And that I was glad of that.
And this morning I had to ice my knee before it would bend.
And it hurts. A lot. About a 7 on their pain scale.
I had things to do. I needed a trip to the store, and a trip to the laundromat.
Yeah, lugging stuff in and out of the car and shopping on a painful, reluctantly bending knee. Great start to the day.
My friend posted a notice about a sister-in-law going into hospice. It's barely been 10 days since they buried a brother. (Not the same one.)
I couldn't seem to catch my sisters online. They probably went somewhere and were doing something fun, that I wouldn't be able to participate in anyway. (And They were. I'm so glad they can do that, even when I can't. We've all earned all the fun we can find in life.)
Well, I got to the store, and the laundromat. I got all my freezer groceries brought in and put away, successfully playing either tetris or jenga in the freezer.
I even went out and brought the rest of the refrigerator stuff in and some pop. I stock up pop when I go shopping, because for some reason, multi-packs of Diet Pepsi is a rare commodity around Bethel. Especially at sale prices. (If there's a 4/$10 or 3/$9 sale, the store will have two in stock. If I'm lucky. No sale price that way.)
I still have shelf stuff groceries and more pop in the car to be brought in.
As far as that goes, my clean laundry is still out in the car. After limping around the laundromat, moving clothes from machine to machine, I just didn't have it in me to drag them in.
But I did get them washed. Yay me.
At the laundromat, I had to go in the bathroom to cry, because suddenly I was punched in the chest by Tammy nowhere.
It takes my breath away.
I can't comprehend it.
I am, and she is not.
Tonight it's too hot to sleep, and I am still -- suffering, if that's even the right word.
How can something that exists only as an existence have suffering? Why should it?
Now that the words have spilled and spewed out, perhaps now I can succumb to sleep.
Perhaps I will just exist in darkness, listening to my tv and the sounds my head makes.
If I do that, I will, eventually, sleep.
Probably.
Anyway, good night for now, and I'll be back, floating through existence as a miasma.
