things. I can't see stars tonight even if I could step outside and
look up. They're hidden behind clouds. Actually, that's the story of
my life.
Chris told me today she thought I felt better when I was with I was
with people. I think she made the assessment after reading various
posts on the blog. It is true.I don't have to think when I'm occupied
with chatter and noise and busyness. I get tired easily from it all
end up nearly collapsed by bedtime but still, I am somewhere else for
a bit. I step out of my world into one that is nearly normal. I
forget, forcibly at times, what's waiting. But I always have to come
home.
You don't have to read any further. It is the same story. At the
moment, I'm wrestling with another headache, neck ache, and truly
dismal outlook. What really frustrates me is that I don't really have
a solution. They told me I wouldn't. That it wouldn't stop hitting me
for years. Yes, years.
I found some relief in October and November. But truthfully, I don't
want to live in a fictional world. I never was one of those soap fans.
You know, they talk about the characters as if they just went to the
bathroom with them and chatted back and forth in the stalls. Not me. I
could never get into that. It's worse now. Watching t.v. doesn't work
for me. The images can be down right painful. Ever watch someone do
CPR on a medical show. I have to leave the room. Ever watch weddings,
funerals, and love scenes? I have to leave the room. Ever see
reunions and leave takings? Yeah, I have to leave the room. Movies,
oh my goodness! I remember shortly after Jerry died, I watch The
Saint, one of my favorite movies. I simply went to bed and cried for
hours at the end of it. How stupid is that? I never cry at movies,
ever... I didn't used to. Another reason I won't go to movies alone.
At least with someone you are to concerned about making a fool of
yourself.
Reading is almost as bad. The imagery is not as physical. It's more in
my head and easier to escape. Still, I've had several books I've
simply put down and not gone back to pick up in two years. I could
read a dozen books a month once.
I should just go to bed and try to sleep. I don't think about the real
world. The sleep, perchance to dream... Hamlet had his own nightmares.
To die, to sleep—
No more—and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep—
To sleep—perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub!
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
You know, I never understood Hamlet's speech before! I've read the
complete works of Shakespeare and I've read and seen this play. I
never understood it! I did tonight. There's something to be said for
despair.
I'm going to stop. There are no stars to wish on and if I could, it
would be wasted.
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