1990 in paradise
Looking back over the last fabulous year I come to the conclusion that for most of the time I have been blissfully ignorant and over the top full of myself. While things were getting progressively worse health wise. I forget how often I have been out sick this year. I guess more often than at work.
Theory is a wonderful playground because in theory I am such a competent and confident person, calm and skilled and experienced. I can handle it, bring it on.
I can solve problems, I don't lose my cool, I am organised. Seriously.
As long as I can pick the problems myself. And get a good night's sleep once I am done.
I am kidding. This has gone way beyond a good night's sleep. (I still love that, though.)
But there is this thing called health, or rather: ill-health. And I am floored. This is when my shiny theory comes crashing around me. It seems I have now reached a stage in this illness where I am all in it. It's all over me, inside and out. The novelty, the innocence , the disbelief is gone. And some of the fear, most of the panic, almost all of it. Gone. (I say that now.)
Right now, I am in a strange place. It's a lonely place. But not in a bad way. If I wanted to I could write a long list of my current unpleasant symptoms but this has become so boring and really, this is not about my weakness, my vulnerability or exhaustion. All that tedious stuff. Believe me, I know how tempting it is to imagine that a body can be repaired like a busted car engine, handing it over to the skilled mechanics and wait it out.
Those long hours of guess work and doubt. So what if autoimmune disease means that the organism is not allowing itself the conditions of its own existence. Do I care? I have no idea. I will never know. These are just words. My ill health is not a problem that will be solved, like a cryptic crossword puzzle. I have to put that behind me and move the fuck on.
All I know right now, seem to know right now, is that nothing good, nothing helpful comes from these thoughts. That instead, I need to concentrate on the mundane, the small daily tasks and rituals, whether they are enjoyable or awful, it doesn't matter. Come down to earth, cut the distractions and have it all. I mean it.