of feeling sick and tired. And that's the bottom line, not to put too fine a point on it. Not that I'm whining or anything. Except, of course, that's exactly what I'm doing. Mostly because I can't really think of anything better to do.
Here are a couple of other things I've noticed too. It always hurts a little less with the lights on. And it always feels a little cooler in the dark. And as for this business about misery loving company, I'm still not really sure what to make of that. It's always nice to have someone to commiserate with, provided they are reasonably congenial themselves. But I would certainly hate for anyone else to have to go through the kind of "puniness" I've been going though just so that I could have a little company. And sometimes, frankly, it's also nice just to sit in the dark and suffer in silence. You know, sulk...but in a spiritually-superior fashion, in some kinda "Dark Knight of the Soul" via negativa midnight vigil sort of way....
I also wonder whether anyone has really done a scientific study about the therapeutic efficacy of kvetching? I know they've studied faith and prayer and religious "connection," marriage and optimism and sense of humor...but what about good old fashion flat-out plain complaining? Onryness. Whatever. Why does it always have to be about light and hope and positive thinking? Off the record, I'm pretty certain I know of at least one or two people who are simply too mean-spirited EVER to give up the ghost....
It's happiness that loves company. And what I miss most now that I'm not my "normal" self is being able simply to take myself out on a night like this to some public place (like Bingas or Bonobo) and have something to drink and a bite to eat and just hang out in the presence of other people who know who I am and who are there for the same reasons I am...and to laugh and play a little Trivia and then to walk back home to a good night's sleep in my own bed again. And what makes me sad is not just knowing that I'm not going to be doing that tonight, but understanding that even if I were to TRY to do it tonight, it would be an ordeal rather than a pleasure...because I'm physically just not up to it. And it's that little piece of knowledge that makes me feel sad, and leaves me feeling isolated and alone, in the dark and not the pink....
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3 comments:
Tim -- It's the chemo talking, I know from experience. Stay with it and tomorrow or the next day will be better. It will pass. One strategy is to just go with it, go into it, even. Let yourself rest and sleep and your body will do as it needs to do. Also, it's okay to feel tired and alone. There's no mandate to be cheery and upbeat. Just be. Thinking of you, Joyce Shelleman
Kvetch away, Tim. I think you have earned the right!
I'd say it would be all right to do a lot of it, even, if it provides a release, or close as you can get to one, from the darker days you have. Even if it doesn't. To hell with the stiff upper lip.
Your friend and fellow roller coaster rider,
Val C.
Remember when we spoke of character and its relationship to adversity? Kvetching is nothing more than two smoozers complaining... Tim, you are much more of a seeker than a smoozer. Keep searching and discovering your narrative, all of us are amazed by the multiplicity of your vision. I sense and admire the hard work you are expending to articulate our journey to the sea.
Despair is another facet on your continually polished jewel that you offer to us. We are humbled by a new development in lexicon.
"...especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off — then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can."
Tim, this is hard for me to say, if you find yourself considering the notion of “deliberately steeping into the street” perhaps you might return to Oregon where we can profoundly answer your overwhelming physiological despair with humility among friends.
That said, my friend, I say we methodically knock a few hats off and see where that leads us! Knocking peoples hats off it is far more therapeutic than kvetching because one creates a situation to address, expand and remedy rather than wallow resolutely in events already experienced. Yer ship hasn’t sailed yet mate.
“But courage! there is good cheer in store for you, Queequeg. For now, as with blue lips and blood-shot eyes the exhausted savage at last climbs up the chains and stands all dripping and involuntarily trembling over the side; the steward advances, and with a benevolent, consolatory glance hands him--what? Some hot Cognac? No! hands him, ye gods! hands him a cup of tepid ginger and water!” Chapter 72, The Monkey Rope
Tim, toss your tepid “ginger-jub” overboard for some strong spirits…
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