what misery looks like, for now

29Jul09

so, on top of the return of gastric woes, i was struck down by one of those 24-hour fever bugs. i had been cowering under the blankets for the better part of the day, and finally awoke past 3am, nauseous, yet feeling sure that just one more second of sleep would kill me. i feel as if i must take a bath in a bucket of ice. i am burning from the inside out – head, throat, esophagus, stomach.

i daresay things wouldn’t be awful at all if i were in the pink of health. that this entire study-abroad thing would be nothing less than fun and excitement from morning till night; that i would be fiercely productive and be able to churn out papers and translations on command; that s would finally be wiped clean from the slate of my mind; that i would stop feeling this strange ambivalence toward singing… all, only if, if, i were literally as strong as a bull.

isn’t almost-30 a little too young to be hit by strange, unexplainable maladies? it is all very well to resolve not to whine, but being sick and alone and unsure of which doctor you should go to, can bring out the worst in a person. and i am hardly a good person to begin with, even under normal circumstances.

the irony about sick people is that, despite the innate need to talk it all out to anyone who would listen, there is, at the same time, fear of sympathy, of having people gush over you, of seeming to be like a weakling, of becoming one of those annoying walking dictionaries of symptoms.

and at times like these (most unfairly, i know) i cannot help but direct all my anger at s. anger at his non-presence, his inability to see beyond his own misery (but are we all like that?), his need that far overwhelms mine. my head pounds so furiously i wish i could throw a big, hard rock at him.

so, i comfort myself with pictures.

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Tags: health, whining