A silence like gold.
Until this week, aside from a six month reprieve, during my 5plus years of CFIDS I have needed the radio or tv on in order to anchor my exploding brain. Meaning something on all the time. EXcept of course when my sensory perception could not handle any noise from anywhere, including tv and radio. I even had one phase in which I played calming classical music as a constant background to my housebound day, including when watching tv! For some reason during that time, that's what helped me.
BIG CHANGE RECENTLY.
Recently, and especially this week, I'm finding that I am turning off the tv and radio because my brain is not exploding in such a way that needs the tv or radio voice to center the insanity whorling and whirling through my brain.
Quiet can once again be peaceful to me. (As opposed to a requirement during very bad patches of illness.)
This change is very important to me because that is how I was before getting sick. In fact, before CFIDS I would literally go weeks without turning on the TV, although I lived alone. I mention this last bit of info, living alone, because I discovered that one of my "strongest and most comfortable with being single friends" couldn't believe this. She asked what I did when eating dinner. I don't know. I think I just ate. or maybe I glanced at a newspaper.
I had enjoyed quiet my whole life. Most likely because I grew up in Manhattan, about 1/4 mile from the West Side Highway. It was never quiet. A friend who also grew up in this building and now lives here with her husband and kids says that was the eeriest part of 9/11. There was no noise. No highway noise. No skyway noise. No bus noise. She said it was the oddest feeling.
Fortunately, it is only a 4 lane highway, so the noise is not as bad as it could be. It feels more like white noise and one can almost turn the sound into ocean or some other more natural and calming noise. Also, a park separates me from the highway, and since I'm only on the 4th floor, I believe that the leaves help to reduce the noise. But only during certain times of the year.
Being able to knit in silence or just lie in bed without sound to keep my ever-present-just-below-a-very-thin-surface freak out about my life and what will happen to me. The future scares me because my father is elderly and while he should do far far more to help me than he does, I do not know how I will survive without his help and his small pension.
I try to remember that I somehow survived much sicker times living alone in DC, and that if I was able to do it there, I can do it here. But I am utterly unconvinced.
But this silence is golden. I so hope it lasts. It's a piece of the REAL me. A me whom I didn't give nearly enough credit to for 37 years before getting sick. I now love that woman and girl from those years. And I'm proud of her and impressed by her accomplishments both personal and professional. I now know how great she was. The silence, this week at least, makes me a little bit like that girl and that woman. I pray that this continues to grow.
BIG CHANGE RECENTLY.
Recently, and especially this week, I'm finding that I am turning off the tv and radio because my brain is not exploding in such a way that needs the tv or radio voice to center the insanity whorling and whirling through my brain.
Quiet can once again be peaceful to me. (As opposed to a requirement during very bad patches of illness.)
This change is very important to me because that is how I was before getting sick. In fact, before CFIDS I would literally go weeks without turning on the TV, although I lived alone. I mention this last bit of info, living alone, because I discovered that one of my "strongest and most comfortable with being single friends" couldn't believe this. She asked what I did when eating dinner. I don't know. I think I just ate. or maybe I glanced at a newspaper.
I had enjoyed quiet my whole life. Most likely because I grew up in Manhattan, about 1/4 mile from the West Side Highway. It was never quiet. A friend who also grew up in this building and now lives here with her husband and kids says that was the eeriest part of 9/11. There was no noise. No highway noise. No skyway noise. No bus noise. She said it was the oddest feeling.
Fortunately, it is only a 4 lane highway, so the noise is not as bad as it could be. It feels more like white noise and one can almost turn the sound into ocean or some other more natural and calming noise. Also, a park separates me from the highway, and since I'm only on the 4th floor, I believe that the leaves help to reduce the noise. But only during certain times of the year.
Being able to knit in silence or just lie in bed without sound to keep my ever-present-just-below-a-very-thin-surface freak out about my life and what will happen to me. The future scares me because my father is elderly and while he should do far far more to help me than he does, I do not know how I will survive without his help and his small pension.
I try to remember that I somehow survived much sicker times living alone in DC, and that if I was able to do it there, I can do it here. But I am utterly unconvinced.
But this silence is golden. I so hope it lasts. It's a piece of the REAL me. A me whom I didn't give nearly enough credit to for 37 years before getting sick. I now love that woman and girl from those years. And I'm proud of her and impressed by her accomplishments both personal and professional. I now know how great she was. The silence, this week at least, makes me a little bit like that girl and that woman. I pray that this continues to grow.