Oh, what to write about? I really dont know. There are so many things & yet no inspiration or desire to expose myself.
And then there's the thought of writing it down & manifesting the bad things into reality. I mean, I do have a history of fucked up stuff.
I could write a last will. I probably should. But not right now.
I think my block in writing over the past few days has more to do with my internal struggle to write down the demon than anything else. So I'm gonna give you a peek behind the curtain. And try to hold that closet door closed at the same time.
August 24th, 1995. Where were you? What were you doing. I had been 27 yrs old for a week on that date.
I was back living with my parents. A blessing actually. Back home from another relationship/roommate incident. Working a decent job but no major career move. But there was a plan. We had just had a great meal. Big juicy hamburgers off the grill with all the fixins. Sauteed onions. Slab cut bacon. You know, the kind you make at home that when youre done putting it together you wonder how the hell youre gonna fit it in your mouth. But you manage dont ya? Yeah. That awesome burger.
After dinner I curled up to watch TV. Dad went to get ready to leave for work. He worked midnights @ TWA. He would leave a few minutes before 11. I, on the other hand, could feel the indigestion coming on.
But it was a little different than your normal heartburn.
I re-live this in my head alot. I know every nuance. I can't make it stop. It's nothing I want to keep. Eventually I hope to write it all down as it happened but it's terrifying to live through again & again. So I'll quit with the flowery.
On August 24th, 1995 I hade a massive heart attack. I've never been the same person. I never will be. And that part isn't all bad. But I literally live with pain & suffering to this day. And lately I have been feeling bad. I'm alone & it's scary. No insurance. No money. No one.
The shortness of breath. The vision starting to tunnel to dark. The fear. The Reaper. The physical strength I'll never have again. Why? How come? That might be a better posed question. In a grammatically challenged kinda way. I would never wish the experience on anyone ever.
And it's going to be my death.
I need to go to the Dr. I've thought about going to the hospital. I don't know what the right move is. Sounds strange right? I'm frozen. Caught in the headlights. I'm just erroding. I don't know why. Tortured by pain, regularly. But the torment is worse. "And I can't get myself to go away."
The quote is from Matchbox 20's "Longday" Go check it out. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3leiVLew_vI
But I'll try the embed code on here & learn from my mistakes.
So I'm claiming the song as one of many that I lay claim to. I'll even give you one more. It's for Mom. As I sat on the couch at home (Mom's house) after my Mother died earlier that day, I heard this song on the radio. Now I know it wasnt written for this. But it struck me. I've never cried so hard for so long. I had it already recorded but it just hit me in that moment. I had to keep playing it over & over. Almost as a prayer to Mom. It's "Movies" by Alien Ant Farm. Sounds weird I know but just give it a listen.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_T8l9FL88gw
I hope you never hear these two songs the same way again.
I'm out. How's that for your morning coffee?
I'm curled up in my nest for the third day in a row cycling between pain and nausea and wondering why I always get sick like this but grateful, deeply grateful, for health insurance and grateful for the fact that I'm less sick, less often. Just reaching out to hug you... because I know this feeling of "what do I do?" am I sick enough to get treatment/incur expense / miss work? I know the feeling of the sand running through the hourglass, paralyzed by indecision and knowing that the failure to make a decision IS a decision. I'm here for you. *hugs*
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