I am battling headaches and pain and fatigue today. It makes me want to punch things. Yesterday I was just thinking, “wow, lately I’ve been feeling kind of good, and I almost don’t know what to do with myself”… and today I’m back to a state where I just want to crawl into bed, into the warm softness of lots of blankets and pillows, and sleep…
It’s not surprising that I have the ups and downs that go along with chronic illness, but in some way, the experience itself always seems surprising during the moment in which it is happening. “Hey, I feel like shit…!” or “Hey… wow, I feel pretty good, what gives?!”
The experience of pain is very lonely, because there’s only so many times you can tell your significant other or best friend or the mailman how crappy you feel without sounding like a douche. Pain gives me a sense of urgency that drives the need to express how I feel. I also want to warn people around me, to give excuses for why I may not be acting normal– “Hey, I just wanted to let you know that right now I feel like someone’s pounding a stake through my left eye socket, so if I don’t seem to be enjoying this meal as much as you might expect I would, that’s why.”
I have a feeling that the older I get, the less I will report how I’m feeling, and the “sick me” and the hypothetical “healthy me” will merge into one person who just is, breathing and living and hurting and exalting.
In other news, I sketched a thick cherry tree branch yesterday, from the tree that is blooming in the front yard, and I like it:
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