("Are you in pain?" WELL, THAT DEPENDS. DEFINE PAIN.)
* * * * * * *
Barbara: "So, how much pain are you really in?"
Me: "Good question. I haven't a clue.”
* * * * * * *
My body hurts. I am absolutely almost certain I'm in a lot of pain. Though I'm not sure why. I am having trouble walking. I am having trouble vocalizing. I am having trouble coordinating movements. Although right now, I am still a good typist if I don't try to talk at the same time.
I assume something is hurting me. I assume it is not limited to physically. In fact, I assume that the physical response I'm feeling is undoubtedly related to something hurting inside. I do not know what it is. Of course, I can think of lots of things it could be. But that doesn't lead me any closer to what it is. Is it work? Is it Adrian? Is it a bad dream? Is it a memory? Is it the accumulation of stress? Is it my mom?
I don't know. It is not a conscious issue. It is unconscious. My body knows and is responding to it. Is my body itself the issue?
Do I require rest? Entertainment? Focus? Labor? Sleep? Meditation? A massage? A movie? To be held?
All I have is wandering around inside my body wondering. All I can really do about the way that my body feels is FEEL it and know it will pass.
* * * * * * *
I'm not sure where to go. I feel the wind in my face. Standing on a precipice, knowing I will not jump. Looking at the view. Trying to soak in the awesomeness of it. I have worked so hard to get here. No one can make me leave. I have earned every step I take.
Unfortunately at the moment, my legs hurt. They are somewhat stubborn about that. They feel slightly numb and cold. The pain is mostly from the knees down or just slightly above the knees. I stand. I walk. I try stretching this way or that. I take a painkiller. I wonder what secret they hold for me. I wonder about the origins of this pain.
I suppose it is close enough to the heart pain or the soul pain I used to feel so much to be the same in a different form. I heave a big sigh. But I am not certain. I remember. I remember. I repeat to myself as a mantra.
I remember how to walk. I remember what I've forgotten. I remember that my legs are remembering another time when they were being hurt. When I was being hurt. No one is hurting me now. I am just remembering.
* * * * * * *
(LISTEN, THERE IS NO WAY I'M GONNA WRITE THIS FUCKIN' THING IN FIRST PERSON. "Why not?" WELL, IT'S JUST FINE TO FEEL GOOD ABOUT BEING ALIVE, BUT I DON'T WANT TO ADMIT IT. IT CANNOT BE ME. "Why not?" BECAUSE I HAVE CREATED A WHOLE LIFETIME, MAYBE SEVERAL OF THEM, BEING SOMETHING OTHER THAN I. "So?" IT WILL CONFUSE THINGS. THINGS WILL NOT BE CUT AND DRIED. "I thought that was the point.” WHAT DO YOU KNOW? NOTHING.)
* * * * * * *
I have that neurological disease again. Why? When I ask the troups and try to feel what the problem is, I get swept up in this feeling and images of self-harm. Why?
The feelings attached to the images are: "act now;” "emergency;” "something is terribly wrong;” "hurt it, it's the only way.”
* * * * * * *
A couple more days have passed. My legs had stopped hurting, but now they are back at it. What I feel most is the desire stretch and challenge my physical self. I don't want to hurt myself. I just want to feel myself and all my power physically. I want to run like I did as a kid and feel that pumping motion without fear.
But my feelings are locked away inside my body, stifled by a nameless pain tonight from the knees down. I don't know why. I only know I want to be in all my living forms simultaneously and feel them safely.