Finally cried last night. Took me a while. It actually took not being able to find a boxed set of D&D pamphlets that I'd kept since high school that finally got me to just feel the losses I've been holding back on for the last week plus. I am doing better with my attitude, but I distrust when the attitude completely masks the pains.
Cried hard enough to shake every bone in my body and leave no breath. As Raven noted later, it's good to bleed, sometimes. Cleans things out of the system.
So I had a very good cry last night, including over Terrell Davis and his migraine during the Super Bowl. It's been that way for me, forever, tragedy leaves me completely dry eyed, it's when someone actually makes it through, actually wins that I cry my eyes out. That's what it was when I watched The Titanic. The artist dying didn't get me to cry, what got me crying was when she swam out to find that whistle to get the boat. Odd that. That actually getting through it is what makes me cry, that Terrell Davis finally getting his eyesight back was what got me crying, that the thought of that blindness being a worse burden than plowing through the linemen. That made sense.
Then I took my shower, as showers now take me forever, still, and dried my hair and went to sleep, still propped up, but a little more limber and a lot more comfortable. Fewer pillows. My whole body is now feeling the affects of compensating for my leg, and it's not a pretty thing. The left shoulder and arm are really pretty sore and my lower back is still not liking this sleeping on my back thing. But both are getting better with time and with the improvement of the knee itself.
I think I was crying over all my losses in the last couple years. Loss of my hands and of spinning and knitting and origami, loss of what writing I might have been doing. Loss of Markleford. *wry grin* Some of it is sheer and utter rage at the simple fact that, for once, my body is actually lying to me. That for all that the knee is feeling better every day, it's actually still wrong, still broken, still needs measures I can't control to fix it.
But Raven's coming to visit tonight, so that's a plus and a gain. Work is much better, and that's a plus and gain. I'm likely to get to meet Jon Singer's mom tomorrow, and that'll be great. I may get to have dinner with Anita Rowland next Monday, and that would be very keen, as I like her journal and how she sets things up and she's been really helpful with this journal. I am gradually getting friends from the ring. But I was, for a while, just very, very tired of losing things, tired of having to start over, and tired, so tired, of having to plow into new things again. It would be a lot less tiring and stressful and the like to just have a life that was the same for a bit.
Heh. Then again, I keep looking around at the various journals and think about doing something just a bit different for February's setup and adding a few graphics... or at least tables to organize things just a bit more prettily. So that more stuff is available to someone coming in at one time.
Had a goodbye lunch for Adam today at the Armadillo Barbeque, which has very obnoxious wait staff. I was interviewed there, as V.A. liked to see how people handled the staff or was handled by them. They have really good chicken and great cornbread and okay ribs and a great smoky dark BBQ sauce. They have also really, really obnoxious wait staff, especially when egged on by myJohn. It was pretty amusing, all in all, and really funny watching some of the reactions by some people. Thing is that I've found out that anyone that's assertive without being out and out aggressive gets excellent service and darned near anything you could ask for. I think V.A. just wanted to weed out anyone that was going to just hide in the corners during design reviews.
I still miss, sometimes, V.A.'s tough old bird tactics with respect to people and capabilities.
It was sunny out, today, warm, too, so we stopped by Theno's on the way back to work and had ice cream cones. Yum. Just sat out in the sunshine and soaked up the warmth while eating a cookies and cream cone. That was very nice indeed.
There was this section in the paper the other night about 'when do you feel most alive?' as being the question that defines a person in one aspect. For a moment, I thought 'When I'm playing soccer.' but that's not really true, or if it is, it's going to have to take some redefining and working on in the next few months. I feel most alive when I focus. On anything. From the creamy sweet chocolate crunch of a cookies and cream ice cream cone to just closing my eyes and feeling the warmth soak slowly into my body, they all make me feel alive. Deeply and solidly alive. Any physical sensation can get me to focus like that, from eating to hot tubbing to running around like a mad woman after a ball. Dreaming isn't quite attached to that part of me. Writing is fun, but I often lose myself in it, I'm not so much aware of myself as I am of the story.
Maybe that's just the way I write, but when I do, I lose myself to it, though it is, in every way, a product of who I am, when I write I also open myself to things that aren't consciously me. Not a bad thing, just different, very different from the me that sucks great big lungfuls of air and is very glad of every minute mechanic of breathing because I need it.
A different way of being alive.© 1998 by Liralen Li.
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