Dark silent alone Stalking beast extends thought claws Rending hope to loss.
It’s hard times now. Last week, I had a retest for my vestibular issues. There was very little improvement. I hoped for more. I still have trouble with focusing on moving targets and balance. I thought things were getting better. In truth, I found coping mechanisms that allowed me to function at a higher level. I think I have those tapped out now. I’m tired of feeling sick and disoriented after activity. I go to the gym and I can get a good workout. At times, I close my eyes so I don’t see the ceiling fans. Or I focus on one spot on the wall or floor. Noise is harder. Somone dropping a weight is like a sonic boom. Supersensitive hearing. I try to go when there aren’t many people. Usually, the mid-morning is quiet. But, I am as far as I will get without something connecting or changing. My eyes still twig out when I’m overstimulated and I deal with constant headaches. I’m tired. And it feels like it’ll never change. I’m sick of the constant fatigue and trouble concentrating. Not to mention that I sound like Forrest Gump’s younger sister when I try to talk. Yes, I write well. At least that section of the brain wasn’t rattled too badly. It takes much more effort and time.
Trying to find some hope in this. Things have improved since the injury. I just need to hold on.
Yesterday, I got a phone call from my parents. One of my cousins in Scotland killed herself the day before. She was recently diagnosed with lymphoma and the cancer was moving rapidly. I don’t know my family in Scotland as much as I’d like. I remember her most as a child, a few years older than me. She and I played together in the yard. We liked to pretend to be exploring and solving mysteries. When I visited as an adult, she got a babysitter for her kids, and we went to a movie, then to a club. I understand why she made that decision. I only wish that I had stayed in contact with her more. You’d imagine with the internet, the cousins would be in touch more. I suppose we get so tied up in the details of our own lives that we forget where they tie to others.