I feel the need to begin here by expressing my deep gratitude for the response to my last post. As usual, my decision to publish a raw and somewhat sad update was not without hesitation on my part. My preference is always to write in a happy and funny and optimistic tone, even if the words I am writing are happier, funnier and more positive than I actually am. In some ways it’s therapeutic, and in others it’s a challenge in creativity and authenticity. As much as I’d like my writing to point towards the fun and the funny, life is not always that way, is it? Sometimes it’s overwhelming and can feel too heavy to bear. I resist putting words out there like that for maybe the same reason I never liked to cry in public or ask for help when I needed it. It means, gasp, I’m not perfect. And that’s what the ego fears a lot.
Over these last few years, the pride that held tears back and forced a facade that was untrue began to crumble. This writing project entered the picture when those superficial layers were starting to shed, and consequently this blog has some really vulnerable things in it, which can leave me uneasy. At the same time, I can feel that my most honest posts are the ones that connect most with strangers. (Duh) And that doesn’t mean they have to be in the tone of “True Life: I’m Sick All the Time.” Humor can be just as much genuine and communal. It’s the one I prefer, it’s just not the one that always is.
Anyway, it’s a battle inwardly and materially, but I just really need to extend my thank you to everyone who received my words and reciprocated with such loving support and encouragement. How can we lose faith in humanity when across the world, people sit down at a desk to uplift and strengthen a stranger with words? It’s a two-way street yall! I’ve been reflecting on so many responses from people I will never know, and that alone is healing. On a form level, it makes me trust in the direction that the blog is taking–one I did not design. On the formless level, it had me feeling so much better despite being so sick. That transaction served such a greater purpose than “You should try eating more JuJu Beans!” And I attribute that to all of us. This doesn’t feel like a solitary project anymore. So thank you. That’s all I’m saying, THANK YA VERY MUCH.
Now, onto the plague. I’ve been puking my guts out. But that’s not the plague I’m talking about.
My siblings with their partners and children rented a beach house in the Florida Keys last week. It happened to be the same weekend as the wedding of a long-time good friend. For two months I went back and forth. Beach house or wedding weekend? (Assuming I could move) I could always go to the beach and fly home for Saturday night and make it to the wedding just in time for the festivities, right!? But with the way I’ve been feeling, my unsteady ability to sustain, my mom didn’t even have to tell me with her eyes this time. I knew I couldn’t do both. Or maybe I could, but the price would be big, and these days the price of choices like that are not just gargantuan but scarily long lasting. Crash days have turned into crash months, and the basic goal is, Don’t do things that could set you back so far.
Back and forth I went, and it was tortuous. It always is; I do this all the time. Both choices seemed correct and incorrect simultaneously. My indecisiveness is one of my largest sources of anxiety. I won’t get into the details of why one choice was better than another, there were many pros and cons to both. But often when it comes to my immediate family, they’re the default decision. I don’t get to see them a lot and they’re my lifesavers after all. They’re my blood bro! After my brother called me a few days before the trip, started describing the waves and the weather and a hammock outside, I booked the ticket and felt confident momentarily that now I didn’t have to suffer. The decision was made and now I could relax. I guess.
…Until I saw my friend who’s wedding I would miss and then saw all my old friends who I rarely see that would be there. And all the shit they gave me, it was more torture. What have I done?! I blew it! At the same time the trip was booked- let it go. You get to hang with your family on the beach. That rocks. That’s true. I got to the beach. I held my nieces and laughed with family around the dinner table eating fish my brothers caught that day. And then on day 2, I awoke at 5 am and had that feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right. And then at 5:30 I started puking up all those “not rights” I was feeling. I had caught the stomach bug that half of my family had experienced the week before. My sister was up with the baby conveniently and she held my hair and that was nice. An hour later with my face pressed against the cold tile in between cycles of puke bursts, I moaned and tossed: “Shoulda gone to the wedding. Shoulda gone to the wedding. BLLLLURGGGH” (puke sound)
I’m still recovering from that evil stomach bug and it’s a bummer. But the bug isn’t the issue here and I know that. I’m the problem. Shit happens that you can’t foresee or plan for. Regret and hesitation are such hinderers of the present. And we all know that the present is where peace lies. Happy is in the here and now. A lot of my unhappiness, and perhaps unhappiness in general, is being here and wishing to be there. I could easily have gone to the wedding and convinced myself I was missing a beach trip of a lifetime. I could have tried to breakdance and broken my butt. (That almost happened once) So while I lie here sick on an air mattress, in the living room, on vacation, (once again) I’m trying simply to just be here. I’m looking for the lesson. I’m trying to focus and trust in the experience I’m having instead of the one I did not. Thoughts like that are like swimming up-current–they consume and exhaust me even more. It’s just another battle that’s no use fighting.
I don’t know how long I’ve been plagued with indecisiveness like this. Though I remember even in middle school spending far too long picking out deodorant at Target, never certain I would choose the right scent. It’s been a long time. As always the first step to breaking a habit is awareness–creating a space between the routine reaction and a healthier one. Maybe it starts with knowing myself more. Trusting myself more. But maybe it’s simpler than that. In stillness the answer points to this idea; be where you are. Wherever that is.
I be sick in Miami! And it’s fine! Whatever!
Here’s something Tolle says: If you resist what happens, you are at the mercy of what happens, and the world will determine your happiness and unhappiness. …To be in alignment with what is means to be in a relationship of inner nonresistance with what happens. It means not to label it mentally as good or bad, but to let it be.
Pretty good no? I’m marinading on that one. Ew, marinade. I’m still queazy.
Health, Happiness, Plagues.
Artwork: Indecisive Girl from Carli Ihde
5 thoughts on “The Plague.”
My little sister has the indecisiveness too. And she’s not even sick, but I still think it’s so mean of people to be so preassureful. That’s right, I had to make up a word. But like, people need to just let other people make their own choices, it’s selfish to give them crap. Of course they considered you! GOSH PEOPLE.
Reblogged this on Speak Ghana.
I have no real words, just feels. Lots of feels. I really do relate, and I hope you’re doing a lot better.
First of all, I usually either save reading your blog for when I want to really read it and enjoy it – not in a read-it-while-watching-tv-and-skimming-the-newspaper times. Or, I tear it open, so to speak, like it’s a box of chocolate covered cherries (oops, sorry, those must sound gross right now – especially if they always sound gross to you). In one of those “what would you do if you were well tomorrow” questions that come up on CFS sites/advocacy groups, I wrote about something that for some reason – after 13+ years of dealing with this crap – had just dawned on me: this frustrating mess has robbed me of spontaneity and the ability to plan ahead. So, I wrote that I’d be spontaneous AND plan ahead with confidence – though the confidence part was a fib because I, too, look at what deodorant or shampoo to buy far too long and always have. It’s hard for some people to get that both spur of the moment dinners and planning to attend events weeks ahead are hard choices with CFS, and does make one a sucky friend who is usually quite bitchy so why bother going (or so we think).
But, sorry you were puking your guts up with the plague instead of too much wedding champagne, but having done both in my younger days – neither is a party, and at least you don’t care if your family sees you that way.
I don’t always reply on posts, but when I do…
You have nothing to apologize for.
Your blog is wonderful.
If people can’t handle real, raw and genuine perspectives, then that sounds like a whole lotta their problem.
Quite honestly, the fact that you have the strength to not only make it through the days with your condition, but are also generous enough to share it with us-both the good and bad days-is inspiring.
I can speak for myself and others when I say “Thank You”.
Your posts help.
I may not suffer from fibromyalgia or take an ungodly amount of pills, but quite a few of your stories make me go “Yep. Been there. Felt that.”
Its refreshing to know when you’re not alone.
You. Are. Marvelous.
Keep ya’ head up, Kiddo!