msjessica's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- disconnection notice i'm reading a beautiful book about sisters, my housemates been in hospital for a week and my big computer is dead. i've been sitting (lounging) out in my backyard, sun beating down on me, skin coated in coconut oil, beads of sweat trickling over me slow but steady and dense, it feels good to sweat, i feel full of toxins, know i've been much worse health wise but i've been much better too. i've been drinking beer so a mix of the sun and the alcohol and the book and the events around me and droning sonic youth make me feel inspired, make me yearn for my big, stupid computer, this heavy now useless thing. i haven't missed it so much lately as i can get by without it, but all of a sudden wanting some kind of release, i think on how i could sit at it with a purpose, sit in my big black leather chair, organise my thoughts, spill my stories to boxes within boxes within boxes. it has been unplugged for 2 weeks, i thought that might help. i came inside all convinced it would work this time, would be ok, i plugged it in, pushed it's button and sadly it just seems worse than before, certainly not any better. but this is fine. i lose a few years of mementos, 180 GB music collection, a lot of self made amateur porn, bad poetry and some ok coding work (which i should have backed up to different servers anyway). and i can still sit somewhere else and write. - my housemate is losing feeling in her legs. it started below her knee's and now has creeped to above her hips, that seemingly contradictory mix of a pins and needles sensation, and numbness. she can't walk unassisted. she went in there one week ago today, i became aware of it one week ago on friday, and she became aware of it one week before that. they don't know what it is. they know it is not MS. they know it was not a stroke. i don't know if they know her about her drug use, i don't know if she is being completely honest with her doctors but she is very intelligent, and i hope she's intelligent enough to know that there are times when it's stupid to keep some things a secret. her mother arrived on wednesday afternoon, coming to just be here, to be there when she can, to support and love and also to do washing and to wake up at 5am and clean our kitchen, to be a mother to all of us. i love having a mother in the house, it makes me miss my own even more than usual, and having spoken to her (my own mother), i think it makes her feel both a sense of relief, of warmth, of empathy and fear and just the tiniest irrational hint of jealousy. i love her more for it. and for about two weeks i've been reading this book about sisters. it's beautiful, gut wrenching. it has made me weep, twice, in public, made me have to put it down and stop, be grateful for my sunglasses, brush streaming hot tears from my cheeks while i try to pull myself together. it is not just about sisters, it is also about the kind of pain that can fill a person and make them want to die. of how that kind of pain can eclipse everything else, every other hint of love and compassion and understanding and rational thought. and how love, the love of a person, a sister who is the Other, who is not in that pain, can so relate that instead of just trying to fix the person with the pain, she concedes to assisting in fixing the pain itself, to help in just ending it full stop. it makes me ache for my own sister and hate this time that we are in where we don't understand or even want to relate to one another. where we are so silent. it makes me want to shove the book in her face and yell at her. it helps a little with me processing that i have some real resentment towards her for pushing her own beliefs onto me for my whole life, for me wasting so much time trying to make myself want what she wants, trying to mould myself in her image instead of my own. how hard it can be to balance my gratitude for all she has down with my discontent with some of her actions and her single-mindedness. my grief at feeling our relationship is in ruins because she is not as open-minded and free as she makes out to be and cannot see any points of view, or even just any kind of narrative that is not her own. aside from that, the visiting mother of my housemate is diabetic. when we first met, when she had arrived here after going straight to the hospital from the airport, arriving at our home late wednesday night, exhausted and worried and who knows what else, and we did some general introductions and debriefing and comforting of one another, she mentioned she was diabetic, asked if it would worry me if she kept her medications in the fridge and had needles in the house. needles. i mean.... my heart kind of broke a little. her daughter has stuck needles in me more times than i can count. i have dirty fits floating around my room. another housemate here, temporary as they are, with a need for bright yellow sharp disposal containers in their handbag is no big deal. there's more to say but that's all i've got for now. it's nice to get some words/fragments out. just came back to add that i just reread my two latest entries and i actually have no memory of them? gosh. 2:22 p.m. - 2015-03-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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