(no subject)
This is going to be a rambling, nonsensical entry which may or may not make any sense. Forgive any attempts at flowery language, I tend to be strange and poetic when I'm ill and I'm just too tired to contain myself.
There's this pressure in my head that won't let me sleep. I know I should be exhausted because I didn't get one minute of shut-eye last night or this morning, but I'm wired for sound. I've had to stop myself from getting up and doing various things. It'll wear me out to the point of exhaustion, but I know that when I lay back down I'll be wide awake. I'm sick with something that feeds on the body but gives in return a nervous energy. My heartbeat is faster than normal and I feel on my guard and alert, though I know that really my brain is cotton and there's nothing to defend myself against except primitive instincts making an unwelcome appearance.
Last night I actually had a hallucination--I know I wasn't asleep because I was too aware, I don't dream this lucid: a man was holding me and my limbs were so stiff. I was half aware that I was feverishly imagining this person because what would a strange man be doing in my bedroom? He was beautiful and very soothing, pushing the hair off my forehead and telling me not to move, though I really wanted to touch his hair for some reason. This imagining lasted for quite some time (two rotations of the CD I had in the deck) and he sat telling me things about myself, good thing, things I should work on, things I was trying to hide from myself. I told him at some point that I loved him, but my tongue was thick and awkward, so it came out as a jumble of grunts and sighs. But I think he understood me, in that way that hallucinations do (because what are they if not extensions of your own brain?). At some point I found strength enough to get up and visit the bathroom and get a cup of water. I left him sitting on my bed, leaning back against the wall with his long legs crossed at the knees and a sleepy smile on his beautiful face. I remember thinking he looked like the ultimate rocker: black leather, hair in his eyes, Doc Martens (not the nancy kind, but the real deal with scuffs and battle scars). When I came back, he was gone and though I felt like crying, I instead sat down at my desk and started to sew. It's amazing the concentration that being feverish gives you. I'm really surprised that I didn't fuck up the bodice beyond repair. It actually looks pretty decent for a first go.
Around 4, I turned on the Food Network and watched Paula Deen's show. This time I did cry because I love watching her, I feel so comforted by her Southern matronliness. It's too bad the show was only a half hour, but it made me feel a little better. After that I sat and watched the sun rise while nibbling on some sliced mushrooms (which is about all I could keep down because I have a nasty case of the flu). I've lost 10lbs since Friday (when I first got sick) and it keeps getting worse. I ate chicken and vegetables tonight but it tasted like nothing at all and after three bites my stomach threatened rebellion. My skin looks pale and yellow and my lips stay chapped no matter how much water I force myself to drink. And don't get me started on the nosebleeds and the ear infection. I have school this morning and I don't know how I'm going to get through it without falling down dead.
Ugh. Is this not the least brilliant update ever? I might delete it in the morning.
There's this pressure in my head that won't let me sleep. I know I should be exhausted because I didn't get one minute of shut-eye last night or this morning, but I'm wired for sound. I've had to stop myself from getting up and doing various things. It'll wear me out to the point of exhaustion, but I know that when I lay back down I'll be wide awake. I'm sick with something that feeds on the body but gives in return a nervous energy. My heartbeat is faster than normal and I feel on my guard and alert, though I know that really my brain is cotton and there's nothing to defend myself against except primitive instincts making an unwelcome appearance.
Last night I actually had a hallucination--I know I wasn't asleep because I was too aware, I don't dream this lucid: a man was holding me and my limbs were so stiff. I was half aware that I was feverishly imagining this person because what would a strange man be doing in my bedroom? He was beautiful and very soothing, pushing the hair off my forehead and telling me not to move, though I really wanted to touch his hair for some reason. This imagining lasted for quite some time (two rotations of the CD I had in the deck) and he sat telling me things about myself, good thing, things I should work on, things I was trying to hide from myself. I told him at some point that I loved him, but my tongue was thick and awkward, so it came out as a jumble of grunts and sighs. But I think he understood me, in that way that hallucinations do (because what are they if not extensions of your own brain?). At some point I found strength enough to get up and visit the bathroom and get a cup of water. I left him sitting on my bed, leaning back against the wall with his long legs crossed at the knees and a sleepy smile on his beautiful face. I remember thinking he looked like the ultimate rocker: black leather, hair in his eyes, Doc Martens (not the nancy kind, but the real deal with scuffs and battle scars). When I came back, he was gone and though I felt like crying, I instead sat down at my desk and started to sew. It's amazing the concentration that being feverish gives you. I'm really surprised that I didn't fuck up the bodice beyond repair. It actually looks pretty decent for a first go.
Around 4, I turned on the Food Network and watched Paula Deen's show. This time I did cry because I love watching her, I feel so comforted by her Southern matronliness. It's too bad the show was only a half hour, but it made me feel a little better. After that I sat and watched the sun rise while nibbling on some sliced mushrooms (which is about all I could keep down because I have a nasty case of the flu). I've lost 10lbs since Friday (when I first got sick) and it keeps getting worse. I ate chicken and vegetables tonight but it tasted like nothing at all and after three bites my stomach threatened rebellion. My skin looks pale and yellow and my lips stay chapped no matter how much water I force myself to drink. And don't get me started on the nosebleeds and the ear infection. I have school this morning and I don't know how I'm going to get through it without falling down dead.
Ugh. Is this not the least brilliant update ever? I might delete it in the morning.