Foggy Morn
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@garbtch
Foggy Morn
Tell me a soft memory
we would find out later i had burned off my entire cornea - about 65% of my eye. my doctor told me it is the organ with the highest concentration of nerve endings - i was in an amount of pain that can't be spoken.
and i was blind. for the first time in my life, i was totally blind. i kept thinking about reading, about writing. weirdly, just once, about driving. we had no idea if i would ever see again. just like that - my entire life was different.
it is a strange place to reference for a soft memory, to begin here.
my siblings were taking excellent care of me, but there was a moment in the hospital where, just through bad luck and timing - both of them had to step away for a moment. i was crying at that point; not emotionally. for 3 days after this i would still be crying, my tears, like a mermaid's, a frothy pink with blood.
my brother worried about leaving me. he had another, just-as-bad emergency.
"i got her," someone said. "don't worry."
a soft hand held mine, and then she started talking.
her name was jess. she has a wife named clyde. they live a few blocks up the street. clyde fell down, but the x-rays seem to be coming back better than expected. jess says she's got long dark hair and "more wrinkles than an elephant". jess describes every chair in the room and every person. she talks about her two kids and her cats and her favorite memories from college.
a doctor came. i had to switch to a different waiting room. i tried to stand up to follow the voice - i found jess's hand, following me. she didn't let go. she kept talking the whole way: lamp to your left, just a few more steps, okay to your right is the ugliest painting, good, now a little more walking straight, you got it baby
in the new silence of the next room she sat me down and called my brother for me, telling him where we'd gone to. and she stayed there for a bit, just chatting, her voice echoing in the eerie quiet. gently describing the room to me. and then someone was rude. from the sound of the voice, a kid, i think.
"why is she crying?"
"she just lost her vision," jess said. "she can't see."
"oh." said the kid. "that's scary."
the kid tells me he is here because he has peas stuck up his nose. that makes me laugh, his mom (?) groans. she tells me about the kid (he's 6, he likes paw patrol and eating cheese), about herself, about moving from cali.
jess says she's sorry, but she has to leave now, she's gotta go check on her wife.
"don't worry," says the mom. "i got her." and then i felt her hand press into mine.
for hours like that: i am taken care of by strangers. each person just talking with whatever comes to their head - not for any reward or celebrity or real reason, i guess. just because i am scared and alone and in the hospital and blinded and need to be distracted. not everyone even got told the story - they would just pick up in the silence with - oh by the way the television is playing HGTV - do you like that kind of a thing? yeah, me too, but could never quite get into those open-floor plans, i'll tell you -
by the time my brother is able to come back, the room is buzzing. we talk to each other like old friends, laughing, cracking jokes about if you don't like hospital food wait until you get on an airplane and can't believe i'm up past two in the morning what a party animal i'm becoming. i am holding the hands of someone named drew, who likes my crow tattoo and making crochet snails.
there are many dark moments full of pain in this world. this - in the low of absolute-dark, absolute-pain: people find a way to paint in it anyway. the color splash of their voices: this triumphant, radiating kindness of - let's be here together, let me help you, let's keep going.
i never saw their faces. i can't remember many of their names. but i think about them often, and the way we all took a deep breath - and did something gentle amongst the pain.
Most of us could probably stand to benefit from reading this. I did. It’s really lovely.
now my life is sweet like cinnamon! like a fucking dream i’m living in!
don’t hate me because i’m pretty
hate me because i’m generally a bad person
no offense but i’m literally so excited for the next chapter of my life. i’m shedding so much of the dysfunctional old & ready to bring in the new. ik what my potential is & i fully intend to reach it. i used to be afraid to start from the very beginning, but that’s not the case anymore. i am on the verge of so much change & i’m so ready for it
One thing my aunt said to me that shook me to the core is “Do you want to live, or do you want to die?” She said it to me when I was bawling my eyes out in January over life shit and she said it so intensely with this hard glint in her eyes. It snapped me out of it immediately. She said she would repeat that question to herself every single day when she was in recovery. I repeat it to myself all of the time now, as soon as I start spiraling into negative self-talk or rumination. It is so intense but so real. Do you want to live, get up, make something out of the day, or do you want to die, because that’s what you’re doing stagnating in your depression and rumination. It feels like splashing cold water on my face
girls live in a world where they are forced to work and there is no time to read every second of the day and a beverage does not cost one dollar. and they wonder why we’re insane
"what if im a bad person" yeah? well what if you arent? what if you're trying your best and you're growing and you're kind? what then?
Megan Whalen Turner
I just heard the mighty bellow of a beast outside. Great. Just what I need.
me hearing a stray cat that woke up my cat and myself.
a reminder that when you are distancing yourself from people, situations and things that are toxic, but were a great priority in your life in the past, there will be times when you doubt if you could really do it. there will be times when you would want to crawl back to the comfort you had known. it may get lonely. sending love to all those people who are trying their best to hold up the choice to cut off toxic things even when the decision feels so utterly bitter. i want to remind you that there is no shame in missing the person, the situation or that thing, craving the comfort, wishing that things were different. there might even be instances where you fall back to the familiar patterns. and life will continuously show you why it didn't work out, continuously try to remind you that you deserve better. please do not shame yourself for struggling with this love. the lesson cannot be forced. the journey cannot be fast paced. let things flow. i promise you, at the end of this journey there is win, and there is a better future with people and places and things that truly belong to you and that you truly deserve. it can be a very lonely time, and i know that it's gnawing. it is painful. i am sending you lots of love and strength your way ♡
hoping to be renewed this spring... that is the sole function of the season
crashing witjout prozac feels like falling off the golden gate
free fucking fall
“bring back bullying” it never fucking left because some of you have no kindness or whimsy in your dehydrated hearts!!!