Day 13
Have I ever thought of the number 13 as unlucky? Perhaps I think about all the black cat crossovers, slipping under the rungs of a standing ladder and the Friday’s that it falls upon just as most superstitious people would. Do I act upon this 13 in ominous ways or do I just let it slide right by like the rest of them?
It is day 13 since I relented and asked for help with my chemically challenged brain. The process is slow weaning on to this wonder drug. There will be another set or maybe even two of day 13’s to deal with in the future weeks. I am determined enough to stay the course, but I swear if I don’t feel a difference soon I just may call it a bust.
I have too many ifs going on in my life. I want to be the most important “if” the top priority, I want to exist and I want to live again. I have grown weary of the back burner syndrome that follows me so closely that I can feel its stinking breath upon my neck. I want to stop counting. I do think that I am in a bit of a better place, if that even makes sense. I am gaining ground on being able to control the ups that will turn into downs so fast it would make anyone’s head spin.
I am learning or should I say working on having faith in life, not faith in people or things but faith that my life will turn out the way I wish it to. I don’t have to plan for it, I don’t have to do any special dance, I just have to have faith. For someone, me who likes to control their own destiny this faith thing is harder than it looks.
As a child I remember putting straight pins through the skin of my fingers. I thought it was really cool to manage to slide that piece of metal through my tender skin and not feel a thing. I am not sure what I was trying to accomplish by doing such a thing except that seemed to be the normal activity of the day in the life of elementary school and freaking out the friends or occasional teacher.
The pins stuck through the skin on my fingers never hurt. Perhaps at times I remember it being a bit uncomfortable but there was never pain. I wish that my mind was more that tough skin thing, I more so wish that mine had been from the beginning. I wish that I could just blurt out the emotions the disappointments the expectations without feeling that I have just stabbed the tender part of my finger with that pin.
I suppose if all of this changes me, makes me able to grab onto faith, stand up and be strong, stop being crazy, I will exist no more. I can only hope not. Perhaps that is the faith.
I have counted 13 days of medicine that has been promised to ease my rollercoaster existence and allow me to enjoy the ride of life. I have counted 1488 days since the beginning of where I tried to do it all by myself without the help of modern medicine.
That is about 4 yrs, not 13 days.
Hang on tight, have faith.
Paint, splash that color, the masterpiece, well perhaps it will be just crazy enough to keep on existing.
It is day 13 since I relented and asked for help with my chemically challenged brain. The process is slow weaning on to this wonder drug. There will be another set or maybe even two of day 13’s to deal with in the future weeks. I am determined enough to stay the course, but I swear if I don’t feel a difference soon I just may call it a bust.
I have too many ifs going on in my life. I want to be the most important “if” the top priority, I want to exist and I want to live again. I have grown weary of the back burner syndrome that follows me so closely that I can feel its stinking breath upon my neck. I want to stop counting. I do think that I am in a bit of a better place, if that even makes sense. I am gaining ground on being able to control the ups that will turn into downs so fast it would make anyone’s head spin.
I am learning or should I say working on having faith in life, not faith in people or things but faith that my life will turn out the way I wish it to. I don’t have to plan for it, I don’t have to do any special dance, I just have to have faith. For someone, me who likes to control their own destiny this faith thing is harder than it looks.
As a child I remember putting straight pins through the skin of my fingers. I thought it was really cool to manage to slide that piece of metal through my tender skin and not feel a thing. I am not sure what I was trying to accomplish by doing such a thing except that seemed to be the normal activity of the day in the life of elementary school and freaking out the friends or occasional teacher.
The pins stuck through the skin on my fingers never hurt. Perhaps at times I remember it being a bit uncomfortable but there was never pain. I wish that my mind was more that tough skin thing, I more so wish that mine had been from the beginning. I wish that I could just blurt out the emotions the disappointments the expectations without feeling that I have just stabbed the tender part of my finger with that pin.
I suppose if all of this changes me, makes me able to grab onto faith, stand up and be strong, stop being crazy, I will exist no more. I can only hope not. Perhaps that is the faith.
I have counted 13 days of medicine that has been promised to ease my rollercoaster existence and allow me to enjoy the ride of life. I have counted 1488 days since the beginning of where I tried to do it all by myself without the help of modern medicine.
That is about 4 yrs, not 13 days.
Hang on tight, have faith.
Paint, splash that color, the masterpiece, well perhaps it will be just crazy enough to keep on existing.