Call it a compound fracture. Call it a repetative strain injury.
I can't tell the difference between what is good for me and what is not any more. I called time out and removed myself from the world and instantly felt better. Isn't that good for me? I just want to stop feeling bad. It's like when you're sick; the instant you stop feeling sick is a marvellous moment, and it's easy to confuse not feeling sick with being well again. It takes normal activities, like getting a drink or having a shower, still being difficult and challenging and taking more energy than you have to remind you that just becuase you don't feel sick doesn't at all mean you're well.
I have that every time I pull my vanishing trick. That I no longer need to worry about all the consequences of my interaction with others because I'm not interacting any more is a bigger load off than I ever imagine, every time, every single time. Once cut off, it seems like a lot of fuss over nothing. That I'm being silly. That I should just get right back in amongst it all. At least I've learned not to go with that urge. I've learned to appreciate an empty inbox and a phone with no new messages. Still I have no time, but this quiet is something I need. I have to take up as little space as possible, be as small as possible, as irrelevent as possible.
But I don't know if it's doing me any good. A respite, but not necessary helping. I mean, how does running and hiding accomplish anything? It doesn't. It never has. I've taken tenative steps. Maybe replying to email doesn't seem like such a big deal, that I'm being silly again. It's no small decision here. And maybe it was wrong. It just brought all this....this whatever it is, back to the surface. Disturbed the water. What is this, I don't know, stress and fear and anxiety because every thing I've said and done and every choice I've made this year has been...not right. Not necessarily wrong, but not right. It filters down through the channels to the small things, where now small decisions on what to eat for dinner, whether to take my umbrella, whether to reply, what to say, are all not right. A lot of them go so far as to be wrong. Then there's the waiting, and waiting, to see if what I said was wrong, if my doubts were founded, if I'm just being silly. I can't take the waiting. It is better to say nothing at all.
Gmail also appears to be eating emails. I could be wrong. I don't know. I'd resend them, but then, maybe all my emails are getting through fine. Resending would then be infringing on a person's right not to reply. I don't know. It's better to say nothing at all.
This isn't helping. I won't build up any sort of resiliance or immunity to the world unless I expose myself to it. But then...but then the world isn't like chicken pox. I'm not getting stronger. I jump off this cliff over and over because if I do it often enough, I might become immune to gravity.
But I'm not well. I was going to go home and see the family and the dogs but I have a cough, and I didn't want to wake mum with it, and if it isn't just hayfever I can't be sick around her. So I haven't gone home. I'm spending this day alone. I couldn't go home because I thought it was hayfever but maybe it isn't. I was sick last night. I lied, it wasn't motion sickness on the train. I know what motion sickness feels like, ant that wasn't it. It was a fast heat and sudden nausea, that which comes before collapsing. I thought it would pass but it didn't. I couldn't go home because the trains had ended. I didn't want to take a taxi becuase I was sure I was going to pass out. There was no one I could call. I had to stay there. I coudln't even sit I had to lie on the couch, and there was no one I could call ad nothing I could do till the first train of the morning. I think maybe I'm too tired. Too tired. I've slept, and I thought that would solve everything but I felt weak again in the shower, and I only sat at my desk five minutes before I started shaking again, and I felt sick again. I'm glad I have a laptop. I can't sit, so I guess today will be given over to watching movies in bed.
I'm not thinking clearly, I know.
But I don't remember the last time I did.
And I'm not immune to gravity.