What was going on in November that I listened to a band I listened to when I was sad in high school that many times?
People keep talking to me about EMDR and endometriosis and trauma and infertility – sending me excerpts from strangers’ blogs, links to Facebook groups, and on and on and…
I want to believe they have good intentions, but I’m not sure I can manage it. Or I’m not sure their definition of “good intentions” is the same as my own.
I’m tired – of thinking about any of it, of being a body or a mind but not a person. Never a body and a mind. Never together, never whole, never situated all at once in one place.
I’ve had oral thrush for three months. I got a prescription for lidocaine mouthwash today, was told to get a family doctor, sit through another intake, hope for the best. Figure out why it’s sticking around like this. I think I’ve got that answer. I’d be stupid if I didn’t assume.
“Tired” is maybe incorrect. Maybe an understatement. I’m exhausted, no matter how much I sleep, no matter how quickly I pass out in front of another crappy true crime documentary on Netflix.
I get a server error every time I hit “publish” here and I lose a bit of what I’ve written.
Maybe that’s a hint too.