In my post this morning, I forgot write down everything I wanted to. Typing is torturous, but I need to add a paragraph from my journal.
This morning I am unsteady of my feet, wobbly like a Weeble, listing to either side in a way that reminds me of the description of Miss Trixie in John Kennedy Toole’s A Confederacy of Dunces. i just went to find my copy, but it appears to have disappeared. I have no doubt that I will find it in a peculiar place. I again feel as though there are weights around my ankles and am once again walking in hip deep water, being pulled into the black hole - again. I just reached for my coffee, but it is not on my bedside table. I will find it some time today - or not. I will make another cup.
5 comments:
hang in there
Small steps.
I've had those days of walking through sludge. Hang in there, CJ. A change is gonna come.
Hugs.
CJ, please go into the hospital and get a full evaluation. Find out with certainty what is going on with you and get treatment. You're too lovely a lady, with too much to give to the world to not take care of yourself. This isn't some passing phase. This is serious shit. You're a smart woman. Please do the smart thing. And do it now.
Big hugs, Jayne
Ditto what Jayne said. Please take care of yourself - we all love you.
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