I kicked my covers off then used the momentum to get my body vertical. It took a lot of coaching to get out of bed every morning since the accident. As I pulled on my soft black comfy sweats I entered the hallway. The crack in the blinds presented surroundings that were engulfed in a dark, thick fog. What time is it? Had I slept all day? My blood feels like cement moving through my veins. The day looks like night, maybe I should go back to bed, try again tomorrow.
My body doesn’t move with fluidity. It’s rhythm resembles a drunk staggering in the night out of a local watering hole. I definitely need to stop trying to dress as I walk. It causes me to fumble my way down the hall almost banging my head as I tripped into the bathroom. I can’t stand still and do one thing yet I also can’t multi-task like I used to. This is perpetual adjustment period. One day I’m going to break my neck doing this. “One can only hope.” After relieving the pressure on my bladder I head back to the bedroom to grab my phone so I can see what time it is since the sun isn’t providing any useful data.
It’s eleven a.m. This is the grayest winter I’ve experienced. The constant change in air pressure is constricting the blood flow to my brain. The synapses are firing but they aren’t accomplishing much and it’s making my whole body shake. My shoulders feel like they have a vice grip super glued to them. My post MVA,TBI, glioblastoma trauma is proving to be a bit too mucha.
“Shake it off,” I tell myself. You haven’t been following your routine for months. That’s why you’re in a flare. You need to get back to your healthy habits.
Or, is it the end of times? Because if it is, maybe I should just eat homemade pancakes smothered in butter and real maple syrup and and let myself go.
Let’s do some scrolling and see if there’s anything new online to clear my head, and kick start the day. After twenty minutes of socials I could see we were all in the same meaningless loop. Focus Lisa, go to the kitchen, make an espresso then we’ll get some clarity on what to do next. After two sips of my favourite luxurious dark roast my brain decides it’s alert enough to open up the floodgates to this new symptom I call incessant mind chatter: Why does everyone look the same? Everywhere I go I see the same faces. Why aren’t we evolving? I hate bullies. My neck hurts. If my brain controls the body and it’s broken then how do I fix my body. I’m hot. I feel sick. Will I be dead before WW3? Everyone needs to stop torturing animals. What is wrong with people? I don’t think Jesus should’ve died for us. We’re awful. Why am I here? This is so annoying. Why does she treat me so badly? Why don’t they call? I’m so terrible and you’re all so fn perfect. Heaven forbid anyone’s real. Why do I care? Why can’t I lose weight? “Shut up brain.”
Then I hear a faint noise. Where did that come from? I live alone. Am I crazy or did I just hear my mom’s voice? I don’t need anything that’s going to add to the chaos going on up in here. Shhh, go downstairs and see if the t.v. is on. Maybe that’s where the voice came from. Don’t go down there, that’s how everyone dies in the slasher movies. You always scream at them when they do that. “I have to. I can’t sit here like a prisoner in my own home wondering if someone is about to come and get me.”
I creep down as quietly as possible and peek around the corner. There she is putzing around in the basement. Give your head a shake Missy. Mom’s dead, she’s been gone for years, am I? Maybe I’m in a coma. If my body is being kept alive and I’m in some kind of matrix then let’s have some fun. That’s where my thoughts go.
Remember the avatar you saved in your phone. “I’m so vain.” The one you keep showing plastic surgeons hoping they can give you that face, you weirdo. Go look in the mirror right now and filter yourself until you see that image. Breathe that in for a beat. Let the joy of seeing the perfect you, the you, you always dreamed of staring back at you sink in. Take advantage of what clearly must be a psychotic break.
As crazy as that sounds it beats going to work and staying stuck in that shitty loop. If this is the afterlife, and it’s up to me to break free from the constraints of my physical existence then I’ll try your game. I’m going to close my eyes, get the picture I’ve always dreamed of in my mind, walk to the closest mirror and open them.
Suddenly I’m distracted by a rhythmic pounding I can hear coming from outside. What’s that now? Searching brain for sound recognition to determine if it’s friend or foe. Brain determines it’s the sound my sister made when she did laps in the pool. Yes, yes that’s right. I could never forget that. It’s the sound that kept me up until midnight every night. She got in great shape that summer kicking her flutter board back and forth. I miss our pool. Hello freak, focus. Did you forget she’s dead too. Holy Moly what is going on, and don’t call me names.
If I’m in my childhood house. I’m going to renovate it in my head, then go outside and see if she’s there. Really, that’s what you think you should be doing right now, building your dream house in your mind?
Suddenly my thoughts are interrupted by cackling laughter, and yelling. It’s getting louder, and closer. Someone is being scolded. That’s a familiar sound. My sister’s were always getting in trouble growing up. They either didn’t do their chores or stayed out too late. Which one was it this time?
Then my mind jumps to a memory with my acupuncturist. It was shortly after my parents passed away. I was lying on his table with the needles in my face and tears were streaming down my cheeks into my hair. He said he thought I was too good for this world, maybe that’s why I couldn’t find anyone, maybe I was an angel.
Sent here for what, I don’t know, but I’ve been curious about my existence ever since. Was I a fallen angel? I was definitely not angelic. Was I sent here from another planet by my siblings, to teach me a lesson? So they could see me being tortured by these earthly beings who are driving me crazy? Is the yelling I hear actually my mom giving them shit for doing this to me?
My new normal. Ecclesiastes conclusion was right.
submitted by /u/SignificanceSoft8204
[link] [comments]