FishDreamer scribbles: Seeking Serenity Online

Wednesday, 3 November 2004

Retroactive Election Despair

I managed to miss posting this two weeks ago, so I'm putting it up now (11/16). Sorry! Just ran across it in my email and realized I'd forgotten. It's something of a brain dump, particularly in the beginning. Which will give you an idea of how my mind works on overwhelm and sadness, if nothing else. And it's somewhat amusing now, given that I spent the evening of the 3rd drinking way too much bourbon way too fast, and threw up repeatedly before passing out.

Thoughts in my brain - how can I contribute to the swing of the pendulum? Vague thoughts of personal responsibility and consequences, and the thought thing. I have this thought thing. Because thinking is out of fashion and sometimes cause for persecution, but what we really really need is more thought, not less. How to reach the huddled masses? How to move beyond the fear, make the fear irrelevant, make reality relevant again?

Do I need to study philosophy? I think I do. Have I got time? I don't know. I'm not sure, and I'm afraid I haven't. But I can't just sit it out and be silent, I have to speak up. I have to start bending my skills of persuasion to anyone who will listen, and be prepared for conflict and derision.

This is not my reality. And I can't give up. I just can't.

Also can't cry. Not yet. Both numb and suppressing. Working in a conservative industry is very painful right now.

I have no focus. I have felt on the edge of throwing up all day, and a big lunch didn't help that any. For all I know I'm getting sick. I certainly have cause, I think. Mr D suggested I take some of my sick time and stay home, but I know I'd just sit and brood and work myself up into a frenzy. Right now I need distraction.

There will be time enough for sorting it out and figuring on a plan of action later.

This very minute, I want to puke. I'm also unbelievably tired. I've been bending so much energy towards the election and I didn't sleep much at all last night. I am pale and tragic at the moment, and my eyes don't want to stay open. I think part of my psyche is just praying I'll wake up and find out it's all been a bad dream.

Don't you wish? I can summon no anger right now. I've only got bone-deep weariness and a bottomless well of sorrow.

In completely other news, I had physical therapy for the arthritis this morning. It wasn't very strenuous, but it hurt. She isn't so sure the hip problems are arthritis, at least not the ones that are really bothering me. I have a lift in my left shoe to try and correct the problems caused by my shorter leg. I'm supposed to give it a try and see if that helps. It will of course be painful for a few days, but she said if it's too much to take it out.

And I'm supposed to stretch my big toe.

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