How do I followup to my previous post on feeling awful? As I was emailing a friend explaining the matter, the nature of written correspondence is interesting in its execution and reception. The minute I write it down, my emotional state changes and moves, but the words stay the same. My readers will read my post a year later and absorb it then, feel what I felt two days ago in that moment, and likely write me a comment, responding to a moment that has by then long passed.
And me? I’m reminded of how awful I felt. And yes, two days later, I still feel quite awful, but now want to move past it. I’m not one for staying low so then I’m embarrassed and honestly, ashamed, for having felt low at all.
Now it’s two days later, and things haven’t changed much at all. I’m not feeling all that great, but at the same time, not feeling as despondent. I still feel penned in by the limitations of my brain (my hubby and I brought up the cool analogy of a computer hard drive missing sectors as another way to explain what’s happened to me), and I so wish that I could just get another freaking brain–lift every one of my memories and brain functions, put them on a temporary drive, then get a new brain and download them all back. Voila–all fixed. You know?
But I’m glued to the timeline of reality, glued. I am not driving the bus. Someone else is driving the bus and I’ve got to follow my brain’s pace. I want to go back to work, but I really can’t. I want to remember things, but I can’t. I want to retain things in my memory, but I can’t. I’m getting better, but now it’s verrrry sloooowwwwwly.
I guess it’s time for me to learn a new lesson: patience.