Sunday, December 15, 2013

A Millisecond of Time

It's that fear of the unknown. Of walking into a familiar place and not knowing where you are. Forgetting who you are. Being accosted by memories. Glimpses of a past you. A previous lifetime. It's the lead up. The buildup. The knowledge of what if.
The moments before are just as bad as during. The anticipation and over obsessing that make the actual moment worse. Almost unbearable.  Thoughts of nothing else. No matter how prepared you are, that moment knocks the breath right out of your chest. Your brain pauses. Your heart stops beating for one tiny, little second.
A millisecond of eye contact. One intimate moment shared.  If it was a movie, still pictures would flash through your mind. Time would slow down. Nothing else would exist. Familiar and foreign at the exact same time.
Then in a flash it's over. As if it never happened.  Maybe it never happened.  All made up. Imagination gone wild. The mind playing tricks on the heart. But the anxiety blazes through every vein. Pulses beat throughout the body.  A packed room keeps the body erect. Standing still.  In place.
And then life goes back. Back to normal.  Time fast forwards to the present.  No more glimpses of the past.  The mind is propelled back to reality. The body can stand on its own. Control returns. And life goes on. Once again.

Friday, December 13, 2013

get out of my head

I have removed you from my life
You need to remove yourself from my dreams
Get out of my head
I'm sick of dreaming about you
I'm sick of you
Stop controlling me
It's not real
You are an illusion
You were always an illusion
Figment of my imagination
I created this image of you
You didn't exist
You were fake
You are fake
You are not real
Get out of my head
Leave me alone
Leave me be
I need to breathe
You are still suffocating me
You don't exist
These dreams are not real
I am not crazy
You can't take over me anymore
You are not real
Get out of my head

Ownership

I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. That you make your own bed and then must lie in it. That making rash decisions will have consequences. I know my actions (good or bad) throughout my life have led me to where I am today. I take ownership of my choices and decisions. I am aware. I am not walking blindly through life. I may not be living for the future but at least I am living in the present. I am experiencing the process. And I am always trying hard not to live in the past.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Hashgacha

Sometimes there are these moments that happen. It's very rare but when they happen, they blow you away. Blow you away big time. I struggle with religion and bigotry. I don't get how G-d can make people suffer. Be it money, health or unhappiness. I don't get why certain people have been allotted a painful and bitter existence.
And then once in a blue moon, I get a zap. A reminder. G-d whacks me on the head and says "Look! I'm here!" And I remember that I am glad I'm not in control. That if I had final say, my life would look much different. It would most likely be a disaster. A definite disaster.
Since I am such a fan of going to specialists, I went to my pediatric neuro-opthalmologist last week. (triple specialty yay) My anxiety level was sky high. I hate going to his office because I know the torture my eyes will endure. It's also pretty stressful to know that it's possible to fail a test at this point in my life. You can't even study. Your eyes just get judged on how they perform that minute. No one cares how nauseous you feel or how your heart is racing. Most people find the visual field test to be a walk in the park. For me it brings back awful memories and flashbacks. I start getting sweaty and breathing becomes difficult. I start thinking of my ex, of hospitals, and the smell of the iv drip. I start hearing doctors yelling at me. I feel abandoned and ill all over again. That I fail everything and can't keep my world together.
But this time, I was able to hold it all in. I finished the test in record timing and managed not to throw up. Very few blind spots. Yay. And then the big news. This doctor is as blah as they come. He basically has no personality. He's definitely a nice guy, just not Mr. Personality. He asked how I was doing and commented how he hadn't seen me in a long time. I went on to tell him all about how I moved to NY and ended up getting really sick AGAIN and how I chose to get the shunt implanted. I told him how it changed my life. Saved my life. All of a sudden he became animated. He then informed me that they no longer give shunts to Pseudo-tumor patients in MD.
Wait what? I couldn't believe what I heard. I was in literal shock. He basically said good luck to anyone suffering from this awful disease. That no neurosurgeon will perform the surgery in all of Maryland. How he had a girl come to him the week before who would have benefited tremendously from this surgery. And no surgeon would help. Are you kidding me? He was so happy for me. He told me that when I go to my appointment with the neurologist, I should tell him how happy and healthy I am. Get him to see what a mistake it is not to operate on these poor souls. It changed my life.
And then it hit me. I moved to NY on a whim. A spontaneous decision. That many people thought was dumb and careless. That I was running away from my problems. And then I went skydiving. And again, everyone thought I was being careless. That I didn't care about my life. But no one realized that I was so happy to get sick again. And no not in a crazy way. I didn't want to die. I needed to close that chapter in my life. A few chapters. And yeah, I walked out of that hospital with crazy debt. But I walked out with my life. My life. And the glimpse of a future. It was the first time I was able to see the future. My future.
So as I sat there with my eyes dilated and my queasy stomach, I felt truly grateful. I feel overly grateful. It's not often you see a revelation. A nes nistar. This was a revealed miracle. Out in the open. Obvious Hand of G-d. Choosing the path for me, whether I realized it or not. Guiding me in the right direction. Always. Whether I like it or not.

Monday, December 2, 2013

Better

I have been slowly getting back to myself after an awful stomach virus. Still feeling pain in my stomach and pretty weak at times, but back to work. Back to normal routine. Although, I do rush home to put my pjs on and still am not able to eat normally. I'm still not sure if I was really sick. I tend to convince myself of things. Or maybe its convince myself that nothing happens, when really things are happening. Unsure. I do have physical proof that I was sick. I don't think I was making it up. Nor am I making up the terrible pain I felt. But I do think it's pretty curious that the second after I sent that email, I started feeling nauseous and then threw up all over the place. Psychosomatic much?

So it's been a pretty quiet week (plus). Haven't really talked to anyone, pretty much kept to myself. I learned that I like sleeping on the couch. Or maybe it was just more comfortable than my (creaking) trundle bed. Real reason I realized is that it feels like someone is holding me. Or rather laying next to me. When I sleep with my back to the couch, it feels like I am being spooned from the back. And when my stomach is facing the couch, it feels like someone is close by and I am able to sleep better. It sounds odd or maybe just desperate. But I don't care. It's funny (or maybe not) that I was never able to sleep with another person in my bed. And now that's all I could think about as I lay in agony on the couch. But I guess it was more than that. It was the fact that I was sick and felt all alone. It's not my parents responsibility to care for their 27 year old divorced (nebach) daughter. It's not my sister's job to take care of me. She has way too much on her plate. So I drove myself to the ER. Because there's no one that has my back. Yeah, I could have called a friend. But it was just me. I had to take control of my own life and drive myself. Sit there by myself. Because that is my life. Alone. And most of the time I am ok with that. But not when sick.

And now it's Chanuka. I am so grateful that I moved back home and am no longer in NY. I like lighting the menorah with my family. And the thing I value the most is following our minhagim. Every time I make the bracha on the candles and I say "lehadlik ner SHEL chanuka" I am so thankful for my freedom. It sounds silly. But it's important to me. It's important to me that I have the freedom to be who I am and to do the things that I hold dear to my heart. Even if it's as nutty as singing the last paragraph of Maoz Tzur to the tune of Hatikva. It's meaningful to me.

Sad that Chanuka is almost over. Thank G-d the Jewish calendar is cyclical. You always know another holiday is around the corner.