Losing What I Found

I took Work & TV out of my life the last 2 months or so. It made room for others that were on the back burners. Some of the others were not even discovered. Some I never knew I had on the back burner.

I feel like "George" from Seinfeld when he took sex out of his life and became smart. I feel Alive. I not only discovered writing & drawing, but I've become more of a feeler. More compassionate. More passionate.

I cry more. Maybe I just notice more. I've always cried a lot. I don't hold back. I say what I feel. Sometimes it gets me in a lot of trouble. But that's just me. I've tried to hold back, not to express what I feel, but I'll just cry doing it either way. 2nd guessing myself. So why do I have to hide how I feel, when it makes me feel bad when I try too.

When I read or hear or see sad stories, I cry. Yea, I’ve always cried. But when I retell the stories that I read or hear or see, I cry when I retell it. I state it with passion and compassion. I didn't know I had empathy until I was on this crippled journey.

I have a weaker stomach since the accident. Well, at least I think I do, maybe I just notice more. When I see someone throw-up, I will throw-up. My cats vomit all the time. If I wait long enough, it will disappear. Cloe, my fat cat, will eat her vomit and my other 2 cats' vomit. But Cloe needs to loose weight. And I don't know how to do it without throwing her outside. (She will not go outside!) So I try to pick up vomit spills as much as I can so Cloe doesn't gain any more weight. I vomit when I do. Gag sometimes, if I'm lucky. It's just warm cat food.

I also vomit when I see my vomit.

I've become smarter too. Learning a lot. Going to Wikapedia and Dictionary and Google searching. Finding new worlds in blogs and facebooks. Trying to pronounce better. I still have trouble with that. I don't think mispronunciation is in my genes, although procrastination and going-on-tangents are.

I just found out the other day that I had 2 breaks in my pubis, one was dislocated and the other held my pelvis together. That is why I didn't have to have pelvis surgery, just a lot of bed rest to heal. And did you know that the pubis is, in fact, the pubic bone, one of the 3 bones in the pelvis. I broke the front and back of the pubic bone. No wonder I couldn't and didn't want to have sex for a few weeks.

My organisms are more intense, and more often. More passionate. Maybe it's because I haven't had an organism since the ladder fall. A lot of buildup waiting to be exposed. But I had no desire after the ladder fall. The pain became priority for the first few weeks. But now that I'm stronger, I can't get enough. They come faster and seem to never end. I have to end them without ending, because they just come, now and all the time. I've finally got my scream controlled. But when I first started coming, weeks after the ladder fall, it sounded like a girl was being murdered. I'm sure the neighbors thought something was weird, but didn't call the police.

So I'm afraid to go back to Work, when I go back to work. Not afraid of TV, but it'll be there after work for relaxation b/c of work. Sure I can find balance, somewhere? But when I do find the balance, I still will not have much time to have for myself.

It's not just work, the 40 to 50 hours I work every week. It's time after work that suffers too. The traffic. The drive home. The exhaustion. The relaxation and stress relief that you find or search to find. The nap or the drink or the couch potato you become just to relax and relieve yourself of the time and energy you spent at work. It's the thinking of the work too. The stress, the presentation, the preparation, the project, the dreams and nightmares....

I'm afraid of returning to work. I'm afraid of work b/c I will not be able to enjoy what I found, when I found myself.