Friday, June 21, 2013

What is being tired? What is being me?

Sweet sister Laura and Jon
who left for Fresno on the train yesterday

For the last few weeks I would get the idea, for example, to open, or close, the curtains in my room, which are about 10 feet away. Lying in my bed, I would think about it, off and on, for say an hour. Then I might decide not to, thinking it's really not worth the effort. Or I'd do it, and fall into bed afterwards, breathing heavily, to recover. I lay this out in some detail because I myself have a very hard time understanding 'the new tired'.

But, I don't feel that tired anymore. I can do a few things. I started taking 2 mg of dexamethazone (steroid) yesterday but I had more energy before that. I'm still lying down most of the day, but I'm not sleeping as much. You know what else takes energy that I never noticed before? Humor. That's when you know you're really sick. It's impossible to make a joke. I really enjoy making people laugh. Not being able to do much for myself and often not being able to make jokes, I can hardly recognize myself. 

People say I might be happier somewhere else, not cooped up in this room. But who's cooped up? Not me. I have everything I need here. Going outside is somewhat stressful. Going on retreat in a few days will be fine because once I get there I'll possibly do much the same thing (but in a prettier place, with help and meditation options.) 

How do I feel? A prisoner of my body, which is going to stop, and a certain level of acceptance of that. A lone polar bear swimming, scanning the horizon for land. Other people's sadness. Trying to get used to being a different person, or maybe just a different body. Eyes closed and a hand feeling around in a drawer for something lost. A clock. A future goodbye to myself. Taking off the hazmat suit. Looking at the ocean.

Here's me saying a little about why I became an anagarika

1 comment:

  1. Suvanna, your candor and integrity is heroic. Thank you for taking the time and ENERGY to share. I've been gone for 2 months and an catching up on you and the polar bear analogy (?) hit home. I'm sending you Love and strength right now. If the magic that hippies speak of works, like I suspect it does, the next expedition away from the bed will be a few breaths smoother.