Had to miss Wound Care again, this time because I have a head cold or somesuch.
Might be a sinus infection, I dunno. My head feels weirdly solid, like someone filled all my sinus cavities with rubber cement.
And I feel very feverish. Like the whole front side of my head is facing a recently opened oven door. Or like the heat coming off the pavement at night, when the sun has gone down but the pavement is still radiating the heat it absorbed.
Those were always some of my favorite times as a kid because the sun wasn’t making it hot any more but the heat from the pavement kept it from being cold.
The result? Toasty warm happiness.
Anyhow, back to what I was talking about.
I am pretty upset about missing two Wound Care appointments in a row. That’s not healthy. I almost wish I had gone this morning no matter how I felt.
But that would have been stupid and irresponsible of me. I was not about to bring whatever virus or bug I have to a place with a ton of old people.
That said, I will show up to my Tuesday appointment no matter how I feel. The only excuse I will accept is if I am in a coma at the time.
And even then, I’ll try.
Luckily, before I woke up sick this morning, I replaced the dressing on my right foot. It fell off, so I had no choice. Luckily I have some of those type of bandages lying around.
The left foot, though…. I am not looking forward to changing that. The wound there is like a wedge was cut right out of the fleshiest part of the heel and that makes bandaging it tricky even for the nurses.
For a maladroit like me, it’s like trying to sink all the pool balls with your break.
I will keep it covered with something, somehow. I have a supply of these extra absorbent big blue bandages that look like a very boring mouse pad, but those don’t come with their own adhesive so I would have to use the clear medical tape to secure it in place and I can’t even wrap a present without it looking like a tumour so this is going to be real, real fun.
I’m kinda fucked when I can’t just defer to someone who is actually competent.
It’s insane (sic) how overspecialized I am. I mean, here I am, brain the size of a planet, and yet I get lost easily, have spent far too much of my lifetime confused by things most people don’t even think of as a thing, and need someone else to help me so much as leave the apartment.
And that was mostly true even when my legs worked.
I am a classic absentminded genius. I am capable of amazing feats of mental strength, insight, and agility, and yet I languish in the doldrums and rot in place because my brain is frozen in a very bad mode and I don’t know how to free myself.
Or maybe I do know, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Whatever.
Once more, I circle back to that bit about how in order to be truly free, you have to give up a little part of yourself.
I believe that to be true. After all, the main thing keeping us from being truly free is always ourselves. In order to level up your being, you have to sacrifice whatever part of yourself is holding you back. Kill it, mourn it, and move on.
And I don’t know what part of me that is, exactly. But I can feel it there in my mind quite clearly, and eventually the urge to gnaw that part of me off will be stronger than my fear of the pain and the damage, and I will free myself from myself.
Until then : same dumb life.
More after the break.
Something’s gotta give
And the sooner, the better.
For a long time now, I have been trying to force myself into some sort of crisis state that will break down my defenses with the sheer power of its inherent conflict so that my mind can reshape and reform itself into something far more healthy.
But my whole deal, in a way, has been that I created this form of myself to maximize stability, and so destabilizing it is not easy.
Plus, I mean, we are talking about changing who I am as a person, and that is always going to be the scariest kind of change.
But I think I can do it. Because really, the idea is not to change who I am, but to unlock it. I want to become more like myself, not less.
I want to unlock and unfreeze all these parts of my being that have been hidden away from me since my breakdown in my early 20’s.
What are they? Nothing much, just most of human development.
I mean, arguably, a lot of my development was locked in permafrost when I was raped at the tender age of 4 years old.
That has to be why I completely missed out on all the normal developmental milestones and was such an eerie child.
I guess the school system did try to correct my deficits. There was a period, around grades 2 and 3, when I was the subject of a LOT of scrutiny by the school board and I got tested a zillion ways for a zillion things.
But I obviously aced all the cognitive tests. The sensory tests showed mostly normal. I buried the needle on creativity and verbal skills too, naturally.
So I think they had no idea what to do with me. My kind of problem, social retardation, did not show up on their tests. So they threw their hands in the air and gave up on me.
And because they gave up on me, so did I.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.