To think I was fairly patient waiting for pages to load.
Now, I am spoiled and pretty cranky about it.
I don’t have much to say–
I’m just scared and lonely.
Still dealing with the crazy brain stuff.
I think I’m better now that I am occupying myself.
Though generally, I’m getting to a point that I have only reached once before,
where it’s bad enough that people who know about what is happening
don’t know what to say, don’t want to know, are afraid to ask, etc.
And I am starting to self identify as a “sick person”,
a set of symptoms instead of who I have always been.
Anyone with either a chronic physical or mental illness, or who
has experienced a serious health crisis totally knows this feeling.
It’s just this side of hideous.
Then there’s the mortality factor.
Damn human frailty.
Not that I haven’t come to terms with what living and dying means;
I just hate being reminded of the “unknown”,
that no clean bill of health or terminal diagnosis
really tells you anything. No one knows who goes when.
“Life is pleasant.
Death is peaceful.
It’s the transition