My world is narrowing. I'm increasingly aware of what I cannot do, what I will never do or can never do again. I've broken my left foot and sprained my left ankle. Most days, I have some pain from that. I'll never really dance again. I know which movements would splinter me.
I used to believe that I could do anything. I'm different now. I've failed tremendously at a vocation that was right for me. Forget ED doctor and airline pilot.
I'm also realizing that sometimes, no answers exist for me to find. The people who, the books that, the websites that should know don't know. It's a dark and floorless feeling.
Oliver is sick with strep and won't take his regular medication. I've prayed and prayed. Still, he won't swallow the pills he swallowed so easily just days ago. He's throwing up everything, probably from withdrawal. This is the most doubt I have ever felt.
My eyes burn and ache. I press a cold, damp washcloth to them. This happens most days now. Tears aren't enough. The wet cloth fell on my notebook and feathered a list I don't remember making.
I feel pressure in my jaw, in my ears, in my shoulders, and under my collarbone. I don't know if I'm getting sick or just deep-sea diving into despair. This morning, I laughed great bubbling laughter at absurd Facebook posts. Now, that seems like a different person.
I'm not starving myself. I stuffed crisp leaves of romaine in my mouth some hours ago. I'm considering one of the eggs I boiled yesterday and the bit of spaghetti Josh left in the pot. A bone-deep tremor may signal that I need to take benztropine again. My breath seems to travel though a network of straws jammed into my throat and lungs.
I am sick in one way or the other.
