Scarry, scarry night
This is one of those nights that I just have to retreat into my space at home. I put Vivaldi on my iTunes to tune out the ugliness of the day. Scars, I've got a few, but who doesn't on this pilgrimage of life. But mine have begun to haunt me, first at night by robbing me of a peaceful night's sleep, then stripping me of my dignity as a human being by harming a family member. The scars of the past have collided with the scars of the present in the anxiety closet in my mind. I can't run away, can't hide, can't ignore them. And so I retreat into my space and Vivaldi's magic begins to work and for the time at least I have peace. The demons in the closet are drowned out by violins and flutes.
Love is patient but during the turmoil, that saying is a little hard to remember and act upon. My younger sister and her beautiful 11 year old daughter live together with me. For the most part we all get along pretty well but my sister has anorexia nervosa and sometimes she "falls off the wagon." Life becomes a living hell for me watching her get skinnier and skinnier. She says she'll quit when she wants to but by then it's almost to late. The addiction has her firmly in his iron grasp. She finally went to a doctor who referred her to a shrink whose next available appointment was nearly a month away. What good is that going to do to put off a patient in a critical stage. If she had cancer, she could be eaten up by it before she got help by the way this town is run. I'm going to see her primary care physician even if I have to pay for an appointment. How could the man look at her 79lb frame and not put her in the hospital! The meds he prescribed are for only 30 days but what in the meantime?
Well, in the meantime, I have a thesis that I can't focus enough on to get it done, have taken a sabbatical from teaching, and take meds to lower the stress on me. To top it off....I was diagnosed with gallstones! Of all the audacity. I have neither the time nor the money for such endeavors. Scars? I feel a big one coming on.
Love is patient but during the turmoil, that saying is a little hard to remember and act upon. My younger sister and her beautiful 11 year old daughter live together with me. For the most part we all get along pretty well but my sister has anorexia nervosa and sometimes she "falls off the wagon." Life becomes a living hell for me watching her get skinnier and skinnier. She says she'll quit when she wants to but by then it's almost to late. The addiction has her firmly in his iron grasp. She finally went to a doctor who referred her to a shrink whose next available appointment was nearly a month away. What good is that going to do to put off a patient in a critical stage. If she had cancer, she could be eaten up by it before she got help by the way this town is run. I'm going to see her primary care physician even if I have to pay for an appointment. How could the man look at her 79lb frame and not put her in the hospital! The meds he prescribed are for only 30 days but what in the meantime?
Well, in the meantime, I have a thesis that I can't focus enough on to get it done, have taken a sabbatical from teaching, and take meds to lower the stress on me. To top it off....I was diagnosed with gallstones! Of all the audacity. I have neither the time nor the money for such endeavors. Scars? I feel a big one coming on.
posted by Buttercup at
11:15 PM
2 Comments:
I think it's an epedemic. You are the fifth person in the las three months that I have heard about having gallstones. My first cousin, who I was once very close to, is anerexic. She goes through hellish spurts in which her weight drops like crazy. She was hospitalized a few months ago. She had gotten down to around 70 pounds I was told. She lives far off from me now, but I can't help wanting to grab her and shake the hell out of her and just say stop it. But, I know it's not that simple. Life does have a funny way of scarring us in such unusual ways. I'll be praying for you.
P.S. I was wondering if anyone else was going to post. I'm glad you did.
By
Adam, at 12:07 AM
I'm sorry. I can't imagine watching a loved one shrink away. In my family we balloon under stress. Shrinking seems like a good thing until I read your post and imagine shrinking too much.
I enjoyed spending time with you at the writing retreat, watching you and Chere pull the thesis together, celebrating the organization that was already there.
Your first paragraph is beautiful. Stress empowers your writing. I feel guilty saying that. I don't want you to suffer, but your blogposts overwhelm me when you're stressed or tired. What's that about?
By
Donna Sewell, at 8:58 PM
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