257 /// Guilt

I’m home sick today. Feels like I have been just slightly under the weather for weeks now. Every day there is a bit of a sore throat, a bit of fatigue, a bit of sinus pressure, a bit of a runny nose, but then it clears for a time and then it comes back for a time. I worry I may be sick, but it’s hard to know for certain. I am certain that I am miserable though, so today I stayed home to see what a bit of rest would do.

Unfortunately, what it did was make me feel bad for resting; worse, it made me worry about work.

Oh well, it felt good to sleep, and maybe knowing that staying home does so little will help me accept my circumstance. I’ll go on and assume it’s just seasonal allergies wearing on as the summer season wears out its welcome.

It’s late in the afternoon now but I’d like to salvage something of the day, if I can. A cup of strong coffee and around-the-clock house music has improved my mood and I am challenging myself to stay in my office chair for at least the next hour though I think it will come to little more than these words and a few pages in a notebook.

Maybe the germ of an idea will be found, perhaps a few sentences added, or a new concept turned over that I can turn again later. Mostly this just means I’m reading more of James Baldwin’s Collected Essays, marking down the past day’s events in my logbook, jotting a few thoughts in my journal, and collecting interesting things on Are.na, nothing rather important, but enjoyable nonetheless.

And that’s enough. Even if it’s only for me, it’s more than enough. I hate that I have to insist on it that way but I have to convince myself first and foremost. We’re socialized to believe that doing something that isn’t for practice or profit, that no one asked you to do, that you don’t need to do, that you won’t be sharing or promoting, something that’s not for anything, is a waste of time.

I think perspectives are changing, though. We’re realizing the consequences of having to earn your existence. The truth is, it’s already yours and you can do whatever you want with it. The truth is, nothing anyone does really means more than anything else. It doesn’t matter whether you work another shift, sell another thing, make a new product, or take a cozy little nap, the sun is still going to engulf the Earth in a few billion years either way.

Might as well be happy while you can—in whatever way feels right for you.

258 // Carry this Pain With Me

Health-wise, today was an awful day. For one, I felt a lot worse. My pain and other symptoms were heightened and quite distressing. I’m so tired and run down I had to leave work early so I could to come home and simply sleep the afternoon away. After two additional hours rest, I still woke up with darkened eye circles and weakness in my muscles.

On top of that, I met with my doctor and though we still have no solutions; we are not quite out of options. I have a plan, but it’s a little terrifying. On one hand I have to come wean off one of my medications and see if I get better or worse. On the flip side, we are increasing another medication with the hope that it will work better. So a lot of hoping with very few certainties and a lot of real possibilities for things to go from bad to worse.

I feel close to giving up, or at least wanting to. I don’t know that giving up is even a choice or what that would like as an option going forward. I guess I can’t really give up, but I’m dangerously close to giving in—to grief, to anger, to loneliness and hopelessness.

I’m just tired of fighting. Talking myself up or back is a daily battle. Getting out of bed, getting dressed, going about my day, and doing my best to work, listen, connect, laugh, love, and be present is exhausting beyond words. How can I keep up this pace? How do I go on living, really living, not just being alive, while my body is falling and failing me every minute of every day?

I guess the only way is to see that, for one, my body is me, and two, I am not failing or falling at all. I am perhaps doing, giving, and expecting more than I should, but I am strong and I am getting through it the best anyone could if they were in my position.

It’s been helpful to remind myself that that none of this is my fault and more than that I don’t owe anyone anything because of it, let alone an apology. I’ve been feeling so sorry for every part of this, but what exactly am I sorry for? For impacting others? For asking “Will you help me?” For the proximity I place them to suffering and fragility by simply existing and being perceived?

Yes, I’m sorry for it all, but what is the point of friendship, of community, of caring, connection, and love if not to both experience and welcome such impact? I’ve got to stop feeling bad for living a real life that includes sad things, bad news, and hard choices. I have to not just welcome but expect that the people in my life will put up with me, will help me, will carry this pain with me willingly and enthusiastically.