Weeks ago, after I published my last book, ‘UnderCurrents,’ I started writing a blog on Sir, the main antagonist in my Consortium books. I intended it to be a short synopsis of the character addressing the question. What makes him tick? Before I knew it, it was over two thousand words long, much too long to use as a blog entry.
I decided to create a page on my site dedicated to this character. After all, his victim and primary interest in the books, Avril has a page. Before long, I added another couple of hundred words to his biography, and I’ve only touched the surface of this complicated and intriguing character. Which means, it needs editing and sifting just as what happens when I write a new story. What am I, a glutton for punishment? Don’t answer that. Still in rough draft form, and the bio needing more work, I ran into a health issue. Continue reading “Sir and the fire drill”
Okay, it’s official. I’m miserable. I feel broken. Do you know when you see someone for the first time in a day, the usually greet you with “Hi! How are you?” You know they are expecting the answer “Fine.”
I can’t say it anymore. I just can’t. I finally came up with an appropriate response. “I’m miserable.”
“What? Oh, how come?” they respond with the obvious.
In my head, I’m thinking “Oh, shit. Not fucking again.” I want to scream at them and say “Duh!”
What I do say is “You know, it’s this thing that is constantly going on.” pointing to my head.
“Did they forget from yesterday? It’s the same shit every day, only everyday is a bit worse.” I’m thinking. Please stop asking “How are you.” I’d rather hear “Are you okay?”
I’ve relapsed and the pain in my skull is the worse I’ve ever felt since this all started. It feels like a crushing hand griping my entire skull and squeezing. Everything else seems to have resolved but the headaches? No. It’s almost as of my brain is saying in the only way it knows how. “Enough is enough already? Stop trying to fix me.” It’s true. Before my relapse, I was pushing hard to increase stimuli and repair the broken synapses in my brain. I guess I pushed too hard. The worse part? I thought I was about to resolve it all and return to normal. Shit!
For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m suffering. Oh yes, I am well aware that there are others all across the world suffering greater hardships and dealing with painful, even deadly situations. I get that. I really do. I feel for them and if I had it in my power to ease their suffering, I would. I do when I can, but it will never be enough.
However, I’m in pain. Each and every day. Some are worse than others, but over the past four weeks, my headaches have reached new heights. Most days, I’m barely making it through work, then on to an injury related appointment, be it physical therapy, counseling, doctor, or yet another damn assessment or test.
After that, I arrive home wiped out, depleted, and a mess. I lie down in bed, resting, often with my loving girlfriend lying next to me, trying to comfort me but honestly not knowing how. The fact that she is there, right there next to me, touching me, is comforting. Thank you hon. You may never truly understand how much you help simply by lying next to me, but trust me, it is a welcome respite from the painful crushing headache, if however brief.
I know I’m needy right now. I will not apologize for that. I need her more than ever, and I know she is just as frustrated with our lives right now as I am. I say this. Thank you, my love, for trying, and I beg forgiveness when impatience lashes out. I understand, even it takes a day or so to realize it.
I’m a mess and I know it. Thankfully, I do speak to a counselor, though these days, it’s more like venting and screaming the words that I can’t say anywhere else. That’s the thing. I keep so much bottled up inside because it’s just not right to vent to my girlfriend, coworkers and friends. They understand but there would be consequences to venting to them. I could lose my job, lose my friends and the worse would be isolation from my loving girlfriend who is the center of my world.
As for all my friends, family, and acquaintances, I have received your kind words, your reaching out to say, “I’m thinking of you.” et. all. They make me smile, and I plan on reaching back, especially in your time of need.
In the meantime, instead of making it through one day at a time, I’m working on making it one minute at a time. Now, if I can only just finish up my book and submit it for publishing, damn, I’m so far behind. I just know that I have to get these polishing touches just right. Not the story mind you. That’s done and put to bed. It’s all the blurbs, cover art, book categorizing, and a bunch of other things that can make a book a success or failure. You indie-publishers all know what I am talking about, it just has to be perfect from the onset. Then there is the guy who want’s to help publicize my work if I cooperate and help publicize his work. I’m excited at the prospect. I just can’t get the motivation going to do anything but survive right now.
Now, back to resting and sleeping. Thankfully it’s the weekend where I can get a break from the past week … maybe.
Till next time, I wish you a good day and a better tomorrow. I think about you, my fans, often and I look forward to the day where I can get back to normal. (Though, my girlfriend will be the first one to tell you, I’m not normal. I smile and say “Thank you, love.”)
Apologies all. I know I have been quiet lately. I had a relapse with my post concussion shit and my headaches reached new heights over the last three weeks. For the first time in my life, I truly feel like I am suffering.
I have been working hard over the past couple of months to increase the level of stimuli to my brain, in order to force it to repair the damaged nerve connections. It’s been working and I am progressing. I just think that my brain finally said ‘enough is enough. Give me a break already’ in the only way it knew how. By beating the shit out of me and intensive my headaches to new levels.
A nerve block into the back of my skull and plenty of rest (i.e., doing nothing but sleeping and parking myself in my recliner) seems to be helping. BTW, two needles into the back of my head was not my first choice. The burning and shooting pain that came with it almost took me down all together.
Add into the mix the numerous emotions as a result, and I was barely able to do much beyond my mandatory responsibilities. Yes, I’m not going to list all of the emotions I had to deal with over the past two weeks. I’ve made my girlfriend suffer enough as it was.
So while I have a few moments of clarity, I’m writing to you to let you know that I am thinking of all of you. I plan on continuing my regime of rest today, hoping that by tomorrow, I can start the work week off and not crash by mid-afternoon.
I’ll write when I can. And, I am oh so close to releasing my latest book, ‘The Trafficking Consortium.’ That’s first on my agenda when I can spend quality time on it. Stay tuned. Thanks for your understanding.
Yesterday, I wrote about my experiences with this nasty hot pepper sauce. Knowing what I know now, I’ll do everything I can to avoid a repeat of that experience. 24 hours later, I still feel the effects of the pepper sauce. My hands still tingle a bit and I have to be careful to NOT touch anywhere around my eyes. Residual oils that I can’t seem to get rid of, still permeate my skin.
However, that is not why I’m writing this note right now. I’m writing to thank everyone who wrote in with tips and suggestions of what to do in the future. Seems the consensus is to use milk. That would have been fine if I ate the sauce. But what about washing, my hands, my eyes and other parts of my body. I still don’t know what the solution is for that. Thank you just the same. I really appreciate it and I sincerely hope I won’t have to deal with that again.
I can tell you that I don’t have milk in the house. I rarely do. But I have coffee creamer, vanilla flavored in fact. Couple that with Kahlua and Vodka and you get a really delicious White Russian. I don’t know which helped more, the creamer or the vodka but by the time I went to bed, I could sleep through the night. I still had to be careful where I put my hands but I woke up this morning feeling much better.
So, I would like to repeat. Should anyone ever want to come over to my house, please … PLEASE, leave the hot sauce at home.