Saturday, June 02, 2007
A week at the hospital does alot of good things. I could write a raving review of the staff and facilities of Orygen at Footscray but it's too early in the morning, I feel miserable and is bound to return to the hospice in a few hours.
Notwithstanding 3 shifts every day, and almost 5-6 new people per shift, everyone was really nice, and it felt good not to be harassed by people even when they do pop their head in every 15 mins.
It is so different from everything else. Not to be able to sense other people. It's been the greatest relief since years. The others kept to themselves, occasionally venturing a smile, but most of the time nursing their own pain, knowing how it feels to give up and still keep struggling. Knowing that they felt it themselves yet has the decency not to tell you they know how you feel, allowing you to cope and keep yourself alive.
Because this is my pain, my being. I don't care about anyone else but myself, to keep going and find the care enough to tell myself it's worth it. You, are irrelevant.
Everything else is irrelevant.
I have found out though that sitting quietly usually warrants an alright signal. Even if I was seated at the corner, sawing my wrist against the sharp corner just near the wooden panelling against the floor. It bypassed two checks, until I looked up and said my wrist hurts. Well, it did.
Perhaps that's the point. Keep at it until you get tired, then you give up.
On the other hand, continually hitting your head to focus on something else other than that voice in your head usually warrants a concerned question of 'do you need to talk?'
I am surprised I have enough words to keep typing after having gone through countless interviews.
So the rest of the time was spent staring at the sky, drawing, reading, sleeping, talking to nurses and generally avoiding people. Have also developed a nervous twitch of biting my fingers, but I suppose that's just me.
At this point I'm reminded of the people who went through this along with me. I do need my bubble right now, but I must let you know I've appreciated most every moment. I'm bad at saying thankyou so even if only one of the three of you reads this, maybe let the others know? For losing your sleep, for coming to see me, for going through the roughs and tumbles, for getting the cook to boil ABC (western style) soup, for keeping everything else in check so I can numbly receive information, for withstanding bad coffee and blowing up surgical gloves as balloons, for bringing Leon every day, for dealing with my family, for bringing me all my stuff, for bringing pink daifuku cake and sushi, for going on about Paris or Foucault or random happenings, for letting me breathe without letting on that you're having so much trouble with this. I know you are, that you're worried, and troubled, and attempting to handle everything, not just with this but yourself and your problems. But thankyou for not letting me know.
And for Dad who came, and Mom who knew enough, and Grandma with her 'drink lots of water', I know there's alot of things I have to work out. And while I don't agree with you, with well, most everything you say, I have had years of pent up frustration and trying to keep things inside as a defence mechanism. Because it is not me to lash out, to try to hurt others, I know I don't want to, so instead I hurt myself. It is easier for me to yell at myself because well, I've gone through it again and again. The problem is, I'm getting tired, and slipping.
Je voudrais un repos.
Mused by Sukunami Taka around 8:40 AM
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