Rambling: Brain Fog

Image from Free Photo Library

I feel like I’m fading away. My cognition issues are really bad. Words get lost in the fog. They disappear in the mist just before I can make out the letters. I open my mouth but instead of sound coming out, a vacuum turns on and I no longer know what it feels like to speak. My throat turns to stone, and the vacuum sucks my energy and with it, my ambitions… my dreams… my future. All that I could become gets sucked away, while I stand openmouthed and desperate.

Act or Frozen in Weakness

Photo from Free Photo Library

I wonder why I’m so tense

But I see that I AM NOT FREE

My bladder keeps pinging to my brain,

A quiet but constant signal that says

**something needs to be done**

But I can’t get up just yet

My energy has to be carefully planned

Carefully used

Bathroom trips are put off until absolutely necessary

So I try to ignore it

Focus on something else

But I see that I can’t really relax

I can’t let go

I can’t let go when something is messaging my brain

And telling me to act

I can’t let go when I’m constantly calculating, and constantly hurting

And frozen in weakness

How can I let go when my body asks for water

And I must decide to wait?

How can I let go?

How can I relax?

How can I be free?

Faces in a Crash

I close my eyes
Faces flash by in the darkness
Remnants of people I’ve seen
But do not know

Heart is racing
Ears are ringing
I try to catch my breath

These strangers dance
In my black mind
I try to grab ahold
So i may find the answers
To my body’s questions

Before I can even feel them
They’re gone from my space
Leaving behind echoes
New face, new face, new face

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!
Why does my body torture me like this?
Flash, flash, flash
Boom, boom, boom
Ringing, ringing, THE RINGING

I search for the void, for nothingness
I plead for deafness
And beg the colors to turn to black

Her Arms Outstretch to Any and All

A good bye to this sweet suffering

There are no pieces left to play

The board is cluttered with chaos

She smashes the table and screams

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“Look at me!”

“Hear me!”

“TOUCH ME!!”

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By the look in her eyes

She blamed us for her state

An imagined war

From a lacking of life

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“I’m in pain! Can’t you see?!”

“I NEED HELP! I NEED YOU!”

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She withers and writhes

She suckles and succumbs

Needing and small

Her arms outstretch to any and all

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“Why is everyone just WATCHING me?!”

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“Why am I always alone?!”

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You see, we had tried to help her

She enthralled us with her cries

We all came to give ourselves

Whatever we had, it was hers

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“Look at me!”

We looked at her

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“Hear me!”

We listened to her

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“Touch me!”

We touched her

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“More! More, please!”

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But it wan’t enough

It was never enough

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“Make love to me! I need you!”

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Shells of ourselves

She held our attention

She broke our hearts

She took what we had

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“My skin is crawling! I want to connect!”

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I told her not to be impatient

I told her that we were connected

But it wasn’t enough

We were never enough

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She withers and writhes

She suckles and succumbs

Needing and small

Her arms outstretch to any and all

Ambition Without Form Is Pure Chaos

“You’re not special”

“You are so unique”

I’ve heard these competing sentiments for so long, they themselves are a part of my identity. No longer able to call myself by my chosen name, critiques and praises of my person have shaped me. They’ve both brought clarity and clouded my knowledge. This shows weakness, does it not? A malleability that leaves me without form. Am I some spineless jelly flubber, or am I yet to be molded clay?

I want to be special.

I want to be special.

But this desire isn’t strange, is it?

I want to be powerful, interesting, beautiful. How many people in the world feel this burning ambition? I know it’s beyond common. However, I’ve also encountered many people who are content with their lives, however simple. I admire this, but I don’t understand it. This hunger inside me, scares me. But it’s all I know.

It’s the thing that draws people to me. This flame inside that wants more, it’s attractive. It also ruins me and those around me. I push myself and others beyond our limits, I break our hearts, I choose short term pleasures over long term goals. But just ambition would see one choose long term goals over short term pleasures, right? So what should I call this instead?

Passion?

Indulgence?

Pride?

Lust?

These words that come to mind read like the list of seven deadly sins. Well, shit.

Watching The Witcher, I embarrassingly identify with Yennefer. Maybe many people do, I don’t know. All I can do is speak for myself. And when she’s asked, “what do you want?”, she screams, “EVERYTHING!”, and I sighed in agreement.

People around her see clearly what she needs to do. They plead with her to stop her search for “everything”, warning her that she’ll destroy herself. She doesn’t listen. I don’t listen.

Yennefer was told,

“You are pure chaos”

When I heard that line, the world melted away like it does during epiphanies. I realized, sadly, how true that is for me in my life right now. Perhaps always? Since I can remember I’ve been a deep thinker… without focus. A passionate creature… capable of intelligent thought but without the will? to change its behavior. I want to be exceptional, but I do nothing to create that destiny for myself.

I want to learn, but I don’t read. I want to make music, but I don’t play an instrument. I want to be enlightened, but I don’t let go of my traumas.

I am ambitious, but undisciplined.

I am pure chaos.

I am constantly analyzing my actions and intentions, and I still choose to continue as I’ve been. I thought I was just putting one foot in front of the other. I tell people that I’m taking one day at a time, trying to enjoy life while doing my best not to hurt anyone. But is this really true? And if it’s true, is it enough?

I feel like I say the right things, even believe them as I speak them. But there’s something deeper. That hunger. That lust that drives me. And I fear or feel I’m lying to myself. Here, I hear my friend’s words,

“Everyone does that. Sometimes you come across like you are this screwed up person when what you do is what everyone else does too.. Your feeling are normal. You just express them more than others.”

And it’s so funny. Because he was trying to tell me that I should not be ashamed of myself. But when I hear that I’m normal, I’m crushed. I don’t want to be ordinary.

I want to be special.

I know, I take myself too seriously, I take life too seriously. I’m “too hard on myself”. But maybe even if I have to hate myself to feel unique, I’ll do that? I’d rather be the worst, than be boring? (Cue Chandler comforting Monica by telling her she gives the best bad massages.)

Anyway, feeling special is loved by most, right? It becomes a problem if the desire to be unique consumes you, instead of leading a healthy life free of that obsession? Or is the problem only if you lack the strength, willpower, or discipline to turn your ambition into something productive? Does someone only show their uniqueness by creating something?

I can logically recognize what I should do- what the right path looks like. But it’s always “tomorrow”. Am I weak? Am I stupid? Am I… normal?

There’s no question, at least right now, that I am pure chaos.

Loneliness?

Been away from the blog for a while. Been in a dark place and suffering physically. But I need to keep this outlet going. So let me try word vomiting some random thoughts to start up again:

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I separated from my husband in large part because I was lonely. Maybe this was a problem in the relationship. But it seems it was more a problem within myself. And I’ve only learned that because of the separation and through dating and making friends.

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I met some amazing people on this journey. But similar themes started popping up: me talking to much, the other person talking too little, generally me being “too much” for the other person.

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So along has come more self doubt and self hatred then I think I’ve experience since my teens. My mind is wide open right now, so open that I no longer understand what is and what is not. I don’t know what the right thing is anymore- ever. Someone treats me like shit? Maybe I deserved it. Someone hates me? Maybe they have a point. It’s making me vulnerable, weak, submissive, and allowing me to be walked on. And the moment I stand up for myself, it’s “too much”… “calm down please”. Like, I was calm? Lol

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Anyway, others are not perfect and they screw up. As do I. Clearly this “loneliness” is a problem within me that I have to solve. And yet, I keep throwing myself at people for help. My goal is to meditate all day every day and stop talking, to gain some inner strength and clarity in solitude. Maybe tomorrow…

Canceling on the Time Lapse

I can’t stop crying. This disease is fucking hell itself.

In the past week, I’ve talked to at least 3 other people with MECFS who were at their breaking point: suicidal or nearly there. Each time, I tried to be a beacon of hope, to reach out my hand and give them my light. I told them yes this illness sucks and it’s not fair. Yes, it’s torture. But there is so much to live for. And that I was there. That we were all there to help and support them.

And here I am, at rock bottom again. My body failing me… getting worse and worse… life passing me by… people coming and going from my life… watching the world move around me like it’s time lapsed, like I’m just an observer, never welcomed to take part. The harder I try to join in- the more desperately I talk, the miles beyond my limits I push my body- the further away I’m removed from society, the more my body shakes with exhaustion, warning me of the cataclysmic disaster that is coming. A physical crash so deep I may NEVER recover from. That is what awaits me.

So I finally accepted what I needed to do.

After getting dressed, which I did sitting down and resting in between each move, and included putting a cute choker on to have an ounce of fun, I was shaking so intensely. My heart is pounding from over-exertion (just moving my arms feels like running on a treadmill for a normal person). I began to cry, knowing that the effort to go to my psychiatrist’s appointment was just not possible. Or it’s “possible”, but that it would cause such a severe crash I’m so afraid of. And tomorrow, I’m supposed to go to an event at my son’s kita. I cried harder accepting that I can’t go to that either. Or that if I have any chance of going, I can’t go to my doctor’s appointment today.

I can’t type anymore.

Please universe, please!

Please save me.

Hold Me Tenderly, Or Let Me Fly

Upwards I will soar

Away from the stinking death

High into my own heaven

Built with my tears and focused breath

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I reject your lack of faith

Your dismissal of all that is me

My pain is worthy of acknowledgment

I will from this cage set myself free

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Spreading my wings

Able to once again tell right from wrong

Able to know myself as I once did

As I tried to tell you all along

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This winged creature is sharp-taloned

She is frightening when on fire

But her feathers turn soft and song soothing

When she feels safety and desire

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The beautiful bird can no longer be

That which you loved in the first instance

If she is kept tethered by your intrigue

But the link is taut with your distance

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Let me fly

Let me fly

Hold me tenderly

Or let me fly

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Upwards I will soar

Away from the stinking death

High into my own heaven

Built with my tears and focused breath