I’m ill. Again. I’m tired and I’m stressed out. I’ve let too many people down too often lately and it’s weighing heavily on my mind. I’m a donkey on the edge! As proclaimed in Shrek.
I don’t know which element of life is causing the most stress just now. I have no words of wisdom for myself and I’m burying my heart and soul oh so deep. I’ve become more selfish and self-centred as the days have passed to the point where I’m consuming myself.
I used to look around me and be able to see beauty and truth in most, although definitely not all, things. Now I see decay and dishonesty in most things, including myself. Epilepsy is part of it. Epilepsy is part of everything. I cope pretty well with having epilepsy. As a general rule, it stops me doing absolutely nothing that I want to do. I’ve kicked epilepsy’s ass on much more than one occasion. It’s really just booted me right back. Hard.
Have I had another fit? Well no. So what’s the problem? I’ve talked before about how I remembered so much more about how I felt in the lead up to the last batch of fits. A couple of days ago, I felt those same feelings. Add to that I was quite violently sick. I feel scared. I feel disjointed. I feel the headache. I feel the fear in my chest, beating as quickly as my heart. And I’m so very very tired. Yet, I can’t sleep. I’m lying in bed typing this because I’m too tired to get up and too tired to sleep. My mind is whirring, my head is pounding and I know in the depths of my being that my body is crying out for sleep. Sleep will stop the decay. Sleep will clear the fog shroud covering my over-worked mind. My mind, my glorious mind is making me think I’m going to fit by replicating those same feelings from months ago.
My mind is me and I am my mind. I have so very many great, happy memories, so why do I, my mind, currently choose to dwell on those that cause me most physical and emotional pain? My rose-tinted spectacles have been replaced by black-tinted ones and they’re making everything darker. It’s so dark that I can’t locate the dimmer switch in order to lighten things up!
Am I just feeling a bit too sorry for myself? Yes, quite probably.
The whole art of living consists of giving up existence in order to exist. Goethe said that. Albeit he said it in German. I think he was getting at the notion that an existence isn’t a life. A life is what you go out and create for yourself. He also asked how a person could come to know themselves? He said it could never be by thinking, only by doing. Again, he probably said it in German. He’s right though. You can’t know what you’re capable of, until you’ve tried something and pushed yourself outside your boundaries. You can think you can do it, you can formulate a plan of how you can do it, but you can’t truly know what you’re capable of doing, who you are capable of being until you try. So, plunge boldly into the thick of life and seize it where you will. It’s always interesting! Yep, he said that too. In German.
I’ve found, the older I’ve got the harder I’ve found it to seize life. I want to seize life, I think about seizing life, I read Goethe’s maxims and I believe I can seize life, but I don’t. So what happens? Life seizes me. It plucks me up by the scruff of my neck and flings me down the stair of existence from the light to the dark and watches me flounder. I can almost see life as a form standing at the top of the staircase with hands on hip throwing back it’s head and laughing. I cower in the dark, it’s safe there. After all, there is no further to fall. But it’s a dim and lonely place. I don’t want to be forever pale. I’m Scottish, so I’m pale enough as it is. I want a tan and the only way to get that glow is to climb the stairs into the light. Fake tan doesn’t last. It smells, it streaks and it’s orange. True radiance comes from within, but that refulgence isn’t obvious if you’re cowering in the dark.
I came to in hospital one time and I could not see. “I’m blind!” I wailed. I wasn’t. The bad part was I’d fallen on a chair at work and one eye hit one of the castors of the chair and my eye was so badly swollen, it closed. I think the other eye just came out in sympathy. The good part was that I couldn’t see I was wearing a bloody vanity gown! Life can’t be all bad…