More than once, during the 18 phone calls I had today, my brain gave out. It just stopped working.
I continued to take notes and make verbal responses, but my brain wasn’t making sense of the sentences that were being spoken. I had to write the words down verbatim and hope that my notes will be readable tomorrow.
On Sunday, anxiety grabbed my stomach for no apparent reason, while I was just making some food. At least when the anxiety talks (“I have too much to do!” Or “I don’t want to leave the house!”), I can reason with it, explain why everything will be OK.
But this voiceless anxiety is harder to talk to. I address it with meditation, exercise, and herbal tea. I say positive things out loud, if I can summon the energy: “It’s sunny and warm!” “I went to the gym – yay me!”
There is too much going on right now – the house, my work, the cabin, next week’s art show, the thousand conversations that are part of a normal week. I am working hard to keep it together.
I am concerned that I’ll have another ruptured aneurysm. The thought is like a steel band around my forehead.
I try to be nice to myself. I say NO as much as I dare to.
I’m reading a lot about the brain. It’s a resilient organ; it adapts. People with brain trauma much worse than mine have come back fine.
I will be OK. I will be OK. I will.
It’s just hard some days.
Today’s penny is a 2014, because it was the year before The Great Brain Rebellion.
4 thoughts on “One of those days”
And, due to circumstances beyond your control, you are doing these things all by yourself. You are so strong,
Well, I get by with all this help and support from my wonderful friends who listen to me and fill up my water supplies!
My expert medical opinion is that your post-explosion brain is just wiser, just to a more sensitive meter….gives you earlier warning when too much is happening. It will teach you, come hell or high water, that you do not have to do everything on a to-do list to be a good person. Especially when the to-do list involves anything related to home repairs. There is a reason that people resisted indoor plumbing long after it became available in rural America. Not just poverty — it was also a deep-seated anxiety that they too would find themselves praying to the Goddess of PVC for closure. In case of emergency, please consult Dr. Gregory, who may be found on the mantle.
Thanks, will consult Dr. Gregory … And you’re right, the plumber’s father said that when he installed indoor plumbing for his parents, his dad REFUSED to have a shower installed. He thought it was nonsense.
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