Friday, January 15, 2010

This Inferno Inside

You'd think of course, that having nothing to do, nothing to stress me out, no idiots to deal with (idiot being a relative term for anyone who annoys me in any capacity at all, whether they're aware of it and doing it deliberately, or not) I would be all Zen.

Instead, it seems like the rage is stepping up, coming to the surface. For the most part, I'm not aware of it, and then suddenly, someone says something. It may be innocuous or it may not. However, it's like they've tripped a light switch and the anger rises up and blazes forth.

This inferno inside me. And I go from 0 to 1,000,000 in a second. A microsecond. And part of me stands aside, aghast at the ugly thoughts and the ugly words that rise up in the throat and choke me, spill out, engulf, excoriate.

And I try to rein them in and they continue to blaze. I work at my pretty little exercise in futility (I'm told that anger can be channelled into creativity), my journal, read books, listen to relaxing MP3s, but still it surges. And surges.

And I'm hoping that this light switch is a sign that all this stuff is moving through me and getting done with.

But it makes me unfit company for normal people.

I think I'll hang out here and deal, a little while longer.

Friday, January 08, 2010


I started the year pretty disappointed that seemingly nothing had changed. My life was still in the same old rut, and I felt less and less like being upbeat and perky, even for a few minutes everyday, as I read through a list of goals for the upcoming year. I worked on one or another of my exercises in futility (OK, that needlework project may be something I end up giving nobody but it is sure starting to look attractive now). And I decided that I would persist despite the lack of results.

If you're waiting for a breakthrough story right about now, don't hold your breath. There are none. But if I had to zero in on one fault (among, like, a billion) I would say it is a lack of follow through. If I don't get what I want instantly, I stamp my foot, I give up.

Maybe it's the fact that I keep watching for results, rather like one watches a kettle hoping for it to boil sooner, that derails me.

So for now I say, OK, to hell with it. I will keep meditating, reading my goals, visualizing, doing all that kooky stuff.

Maybe things will change inside me. And then outside me. Maybe they won't.

But this sure feels better than wallowing in misery.

I just gave my mother a foot massage. Ever since her stroke, more than 20 years ago, her feet have become more and more non-functional. She stumbles about on them slowly and they hurt more and more. Today, she woke up and they were really hurting.

Until now, because of my habit of awaking only in the evening, I have done thing to ease my mother's pain. So today, I took the muscle and joint cream, asked her to lie on the bed and did a rough lymphatic drainage massage on her feet and legs. (The complete lymphatic drainage massage is a whole body thing and I think I may be introducing that for before she goes to bed every night and watch for results). The last time I did that for someone everyday, (a severely obese friend who had everything and their fourth cousins, wrong with her) for a month straight, there were wonderful results. Her feet, which were permanently swollen, unswelled themselves, her skin was glowing, she could walk rather than stagger and I think she actually lost some weight. Of course, doing the massage every day took its toll on my energy levels and I started to resent it. So I stopped. (see what I mean about becoming derailed?) And all my good work reversed itself.

So maybe there are some good things about this new year. If I look hard enough.

Tuesday, January 05, 2010

Cut Off

It's 8 in the morning and I haven't been to bed yet. Although I had plans to do something useful tonight, I watched eight episodes of Supernatural (First Season) and worked on my useless piece of needlework that I can't give to anybody instead.

It's easy to shut your mind off and get caught in the world of Sam and Dean (and this season, Dad too) and not ponder on the things that upset me.

I think I'll make a pot of coffee now and have my breakfast. After which I can toddle along to bed.

Nothing is moving, or at least I can't see it if it is and I feel very very cut off from everyone.

Monday, January 04, 2010

Emerging from Oblivion

It's been four very very quiet days. May have something to do with the fact that I only wake up long after the sun goes down and fall asleep in the throes of noontime. I feel very conflicted about a lot of things and basically out of it.

So far the only things that abound are mosquitoes. Mum is irritated at my nocturnal habits but she bears it with her mixture of Bollywood and the trashy novels that Uncle Solomon gave her for Christmas that she can't seem to put down.

Speaking of novels, I have just finished the Lucia ones, and think that EF Benson is frigging genius. They are light, airy (kind of like PG Wodehouse) but here each sting tells. Maybe because all the principle characters are women. And men, such men as there happen to be, are only incidental, and don't really care about the outcomes of all these breathless intrigues. (The main man, the most vivid one there is, does petit point embroidery and polishes his bibelots, rejoices in the name Georgie and acts as Lucia's lieutenant).

I've started a project in New Year's which was supposed to have been completed in time for the Millennium. As you can imagine, it's seriously out of date, but I figured, as I want to finish all the projects I bought from Harvinder, oh all those years ago (the oldest are about 15 years old), I would work on it. I have finished the top border which is pretty good for four days. And it's pretty. And I have nobody to give it to and even if I did, they would think it pretty strange but I try not to think of that. Sometimes we must do senseless thing, to fill the empty hours.

My life is scattered pieces of sunshine and many drops of rain. Really, it's pretty much oblivion and my attempts to emerge from it.