Diary Post:demons and contortions

today i am too sick to get out of bed.  shopping was impossible this week. there is no bread in the house and very few vegetables.   i wanted to get to the farmers’ market this morning.  i’ve given up on whole foods (another impending essay or letter.)  it is the most difficult store to negotiate in a wheelchair or scooter, and the staff and mangement are very unkind and usually unhelpful. (there are exceptions.)
i don’t own a scooter and the wheelchair i have is very old and clunky.  when walking is difficult, my arms are usually very weak also, so i need to be pushed.  right now i can barely hold my arms up long enough to type on my lap top while i recline in bed.
this bed.  i am so tired of this bed, this house, this very sick body.  it feels like a very deep hole, a guilded cage.
i need to get to the market, but all i have for ambulation is my walker.  (a scooter is aparently not covered for my disability, on my insurance, and even then, it would only be covered for 50% of the cost, which is between $1000 and $3000.)
i don’t think i’m well enough  to drive today,  either.
actually, i’m not sure i’m strong enough to stand long enough to take a shower.  i feel so weak.  i’m hungry. the kitchen seems so far away.
everyone is away this weekend.  i have to solve this on my own.  it’s not as difficult as it was when leon was little, when i was this sick and had a 5 year old to take care of.  i have no idea how we survived those years.  we were so alone, i was so sick. we were both so scared.  this is a heartless society.  people in desperate situations disappear, become homeless, insane, die.  i hold on to fragments of reality to escape the demons in my mind.  the ones that tell me that this is my fault, that i should just snap out of it, that it is what i deserve.  the demons, the contortions of my most bitter thoughts, tell me ugly things: my essential wretchedness.
the day looms ahead like eternity, like menacing storm clouds, like a boulder about to fall.  each moment seems like hours.  tic tic tic tic.  everytime i look at the clock it is just a few minutes later.  there is no end to this.  nothing to break up the monotony of illness and isolation.  andy is at a conference in detroit.  he calls every few hours during breaks.  this is not easy for him either.
eventually i’ll get hungry enough that i’ll figure something out and eat.  there are few unhealthy choices in this home.  i focus on healthy foods and healthy choices.  but then, that’s where life gets so complicated.  processed foods are more convenient. fresh vegetables, for example, require work.  we grow a lot of food, but then it needs to be harvested, washed, cooked, served.  it’s not a matter of 3 minutes in the microwave.
but healthy choices have healthy results.  the sicker i am, the fewer choices i have and the more choices i need.

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