March 24, 2011
Sometimes I avoid things because I don’t want to face/do/experience/deal with them.
Other times I avoid things because I’m acute and aware of everything I have to do, confident in my movements.
It’s not really avoidance in this case; it’s arrogance.
Not the nasty type of arrogance though, but the innocent type that you allow yourself, that small space where you remove yourself and observe, with a sincere and smug smile, that for this moment in your life, you’re managing.
Today I’m touching everything.
A word that sticks: glacial. Reminds me of Fox’s Glacier Mints. Small, translucent blue cubes.
My world is a small, translucent blue cube that I can suck and roll about in my mouth for as long as I like, or turn it to shards in one bite. Look into it. What I see and what you see will be very different things.
March 10, 2011
I used to be the type that freaked out whenever anything bad happened. I’d put myself through hell over the smallest things because I couldn’t get over the idea that I am not in control of my life. Fast forward a few years and I’m pleased to say that I’m much more chilled.
Crappy things still happen, the past week being no exception, but instead of jumping in and essentially drowning myself in things I have no say over, I step back and deal with those events as they come. I make them form a line. If they’re important, I attend to them; if they’re irrelevant, I release my grip.
There are times however, such as today, where I’m ultra-stressed because I can’t control the situation. In my defense, this is a situation that needs control.
I had a tattoo done last week and it’s unfortunately developed a mild (I hope) infection. I’ve recognised that this has come about due to a number of circumstances (I felt the tattooing to have been a bit harsher that usual; I’m run down at the moment, so healing is harder; I made the mistake of using a cream instead of an ointment); and now that I’ve accepted my predicament, I’ve done everything I should do to ensure that I stop this infection before it gets nasty.
I can’t see a doctor until much later today. Generally I thought that things like this are considered important, especially when you take my symptoms into account: inflammation, pain, mild numbness, a slight rash, swollen lymph nodes.
I’d quite like to get this seen to before it goes septic.
I’m more annoyed than usual because I’ve got several tattoos, and piercings, and this has never happened before. I had two done on the same day in fact, and have treated them in the same manner; the other tattoo is healing well.
What tops it for me however, is that nobody will see me ‘out of hours’ (12pm-4pm if you’re at my surgery). I have to go to the A&E or wait to make an appointment for later on this evening. I don’t want to visit the A&E though because I’ll be sitting there for hours when all I need is a prescription for antibiotics. I’m better off waiting to get to my GP later today.
Everything is ‘later’.
Although I’m feeling ghastly about the whole thing, I’m reminding myself to be patient and positive about this. I’m shocked that I can’t get immediate access for something that has the potential to kill me, but I’m okay about it.
That didn’t sound right, did it?
I finally got to see a doctor. I have a course of antibiotics and all shall be fine. The consultation took less than five minutes.
March 8, 2011
You can’t be ‘on’ all the time. There’s a reason we turn lights off, and not just to stop them from burning out before their time; switching off reveals everything that is smothered.
I think we can officially declare my ‘post-a-week’ promise a failure, but I’m not upset because I think I’ve done significantly better than 2010. And I’m still working through my list of things to do during 2011.
Allowing myself to become dormant, to let the shadows fall on me for the past two weeks, has given me a lot of room to think. I can’t think like this when I’m in the thick of things, I need a bit of introversion to tease circumstance apart. So with a retreat, a sleight of hand, I’ve turned my face away and discovered.
30% interaction, 70% isolation. Nice round numbers that work for me but probably mean very little.
It’s not personal when I shut down.