Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for Friday’s music prompt, “I Don’t Want To Talk About It” by Rod Stewart. The song is loosely used in part three. Warning Part Three contains Adult Content.
“I Don’t Want To Talk About It” – Rod Stewart
Tallia drove back to Fairy Dust as fast as her Vespa would take her without losing the giant fish off the Vespa’s back compartment. She was feeling afraid because she knew Teegan would be nearly awake, but felt certain he would be in enough of a fog she would have time to make the potion he required. She prayed the tonic took his darkness away, the shadow that stalked him. But at the same time Tallia knew, the shadow was Teegan.
The presence of darkness lurked as Tallia quietly opened the back door, slipping inside her shop. She set the goldfish in his bag, down on a countertop and stood for a moment blinking tiredly. It was the middle of the afternoon and a wave of fatigue overwhelmed her. She had been up late thinking about Teegan, what he could have possibly done hundreds of years ago to be cursed so wickedly. She was thinking about him in other ways too, Tallia realized blushing.
She wasn’t sure what she’d do if Teegan knew she’d drugged him, what he’d say or do. She didn’t know how much in control Teegan was of his darkness right now. The wisest thing Tallia could do was make him his potion whenever he needed it, whatever kind of potion it was. She thought about the wisdom Teegan hopefully acquired in his centuries alive. Would it make him extra understanding?
Then again, she could be wrong. Some people never learned their lessons despite experience. Yet Tallia was sure, in Teegan’s startling green eyes had been knowledge of dark deeds and lessons learned with difficulty. The blackness in his gaze almost had the affect of repelling Tallia at first.
At the same time, his emerald eyes were seductive and drew her too Teegan. No matter his real age, he appeared to be in his thirties. He was ridiculously good looking in the truest sense. She could smell his particular pleasing scent from where she leaned against the counter in the back of her store. Where she put together potions and caste spells for magical items customer’s required.
Perhaps, it was her heightened sense of smell which brought to life Teegan’s addictive scent, or maybe her memories were more vivid due to her attraction to him.
Tallia jumped when a voice whispered in her ear.
“Where’d you go? How come my potion’s not made? I need it now Tallia,” he whispered.
“Yep, I’m awake, thanks for the nap by the way. Did you find out what you needed too? I see you got the giant gold fish. You’re worried about me and the shadow around me which makes you sick. You went and talked to Jude. He’s been around over a century. Old for most humans, but not as old as me, Tallia.”
“I didn’t talk to Jude, he’s in the hospital because he had a stroke and isn’t doing well,” Tallia sad with sadness.” I talked to his great-grandson Aspen. He run’s the store now I guess. He said you were cursed, that you did something terrible. That’s why you’ve so much darkness. How do you make it go away Teegan? What happens if you don’t take this potion?”
Tallia felt warm and comfortable and realized Teegan had moved to hold her from behind, his arms crossed against her stomach. Teegan’s head suddenly lay against hers and she could feel him sigh as if he could finally relax. Tallia had never been so near to Teegan, she felt dizzy in good way. It felt wonderful to be held so gently, though she wondered if Teegan realized he had moved to comfort her.
Moments later, Tallia felt Teegan’s lips firmly on the side of her neck, traveling up under her ear and sucking gently on her earlobe. His lips moved back down her neck to the v-neck of her sweater. He kissed her over her heart and Tallia shivered when his lips traced her neck, went over her chin, and landed on her lips. Her heart was racing, she felt hot and cold all over.
Teegan bit her lip gently, seeking access to her mouth. His tongue met hears with need. Tallia couldn’t think, could only feel. Her connection with Teegan was something new to her. This sense of knowing him and recognizing him, beyond the physical sense. In her mind, she could feel him encouraging her to relax.
“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered.
Teegan kissed Tallia until she was breathless, his hands massaging her stomach, sides, and hips. His hand moved up to squeezing her breast over her sweater and short coat. She moaned when he broke off his the kiss leaving Tallia wanting. He breathed in the crook of her neck, his hand not moving, but not leaving either. It seemed as if hours had passed but it had only been minutes.
Teegan collected himself and moved a distance from Tallia as he spoke: “Tallia, I can’t. I want to, but I shouldn’t have done that; it confused you. I need you to make my potion nowplease. You’re the only one who can do it. It has to be one of your bloodline. And if you don’t I’ll turn evil. I’ll be a curse myself, a terrible man. I’ve done such evil because I’m cursed, or was before your gifted ancestor came up with this potion. It’s the only way to keep me from turning, Tallia. You and I, we’re tied together because of your ancestor. You remind me of her,” Teegan remarked.
“You need to tell me the entire story. This isn’t fair Teegan. Of course, I’ll make the potion. But my Aunt never told me any of this. The cancer took her a way in so little time. I need more answers from you,” Tallia pleaded.
“I don’t want to talk about it Tallia. Make the potion. You’re breaking my heart here,” Teegan said rolling his eyes.
“What if I don’t?”
“I’ll be evil, as I’ve said and as I’m sure Aspen told you. I’ll hurt you, probably kill you, and I don’t want to do that. If I kill you, I’ll be evil forever — until someone kills me. You’re the last in your line. Make the potion, Tallia, we could be happy.”
“Tallia, make it now! You know I’m not trying to deceive you. You can feel it.”
“Yes, you’re right. I do feel you’re being genuine. I’ll make it as fast I can.”
Tallia gathered all the ingredients she had laid out earlier and brought them to an extremely large mixing bowl. She measured all the ingredients into the bowl quickly and accurately, barely thinking. She followed the directions in Aunt Willow’s tome and chanted the right words when she needed to say them. Pouring out the water of the giant gold fish’s bag in a sink, she slid the giant flopping gold fish into her bowl. With wide eyes she watched the potion simmer and turn scarlet.
Aspen had been right, the goldfish was a sacrifice of life. Although a mouse or anything small would’ve done the job, but her ancestor’s writing said the giant goldfish was preferred. Tallia strained the chunks of ingredients from the mixture; the goldfish had disintegrated.
Tallia pulled a beer stein out of her cupboard to Teegan’s surprise. She poured half of the scarlet liquid into the earthen beer stein. Teegan had been watching Tallia create the potion the entire time. He hadn’t said anything, only watched her, familiar with her actions. He’d probably watched her Aunt Willow and her Great-Aunt do the same. And many of Tallia’s ancestors, if she could believe his story.
She turned around from the giant bowl and found Teegan beside her, leaning against the counter studying her. His hand moved, pushing her light purple-grey hair behind her ear. He was so much taller than her, Tallia thought.
Teegan smiled when she offered him the beer stein.”Where’s yours?”he asked her.
“Where’s my what?”
“Yourhalf of the potion? You have to drink it with me,” Teegan told her.
Tallia was about to protest but he was gazing at her in a particular way. She noticed the pain usually hidden in his eyes present. She felt it through herbeing and it softened her heart; her protests crumbled.
” I wish I wasn’t so intuitive, Teegan. You do really need me to drink your tonic with you? Do you promise I’ll be okay?”
“I promise. Your Aunt, she was always fine. You’ll find it invigorating actually,” he said.
Tallia nodded reading what Teegan had told her in the tome beside her on the counter. How did she miss that direction? Peeringup she noticed him pouring her a beer stein of the remaining liquid. She took the potion from him, grimacing because she knew the ingredients in it. She tasted a bit of the potion, testing the flavour. It tasted like cinnamon and a woodsy red wine. How could that be?
“Bottoms up?” Teegan said holding up his stein.
Talia clinked her stein with his, “Slainte,” she said.
Teegan’s potion was easy going down. Tallia could feel a lightness, as if her cares were floating free. She felt energy, Teegan was right. His potion did feel invigorating. Her mind felt intensely perceptive as well. Swallowing the remenants of the liquid she saw Teegan had already finished his.
“Better, huh?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s amazing stuff,” she said peering everywhere, everything around her was completelycrystal clear. Her early fatigue was gone. Tallia noticed Teegan’s dark circles had faded. He appeared younger, his few wrinkles smoothed out. He was gazing at her again in certain way, and she knew from the flicker in his green-eyes what he wanted. Tallia felt almost drunk, except the potion made everything feel real.
She laughed aloud and Teegan frowned,”What?”
“No you’re not getting that from me,” she said.
“It wasn’t difficult to get a kiss and more from you before. You like me. I can tell, I like you too,” Teegan said, eyes darkening and meeting her own.
“No,” Tallia said laughing again. “You have to earn it. Take me out. Tell me about yourself and my ancestors. Did you sleep with one of my great- great – female relatives?”
“Don’t you feel like you’re burning up inside? I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t . . .” he said approaching Tallia, following her as if she were prey. “I slept with the first of your ancestors I knew, she was my . . . my woman, for a while. But she died and we never had a child.”
Tallia backed away from Teegan smiling, wary but turnedon at the same time. He was irresistible and Tallia found herself trapped against a wall. She laughed more as Teegan stripped off his shirt and unbuckled his belt. Her mouth ran dry seeing his finely sculpted body. He grinned and grabbed both her hands, holding her hands above her head. Tallia whimpered and Teegan chuckled.
“I’m not, I’m not a one night type of girl and you’re . . . you smell so good. But you’ve lived so much longer than me, what could you possibly see in me,” she murmured.
“You’re not one night Tallia. I was thinking many many and I see you’re beautiful and gifted; you’re also intelligent.You didn’t immediately trust me.”
“Okay . . .” Tallia began but Teegan’s lips roughly met hers and she gasped as his tongue invaded sliding against hers. His hands were everywhere beneath her shirt and bralette. Then her shirt and bralette were gone and his mouth was there and she couldn’t contain her cries. “Oh no . . .”
He removed his mouth breathing hard, “Stop?”
“Oh please no!” Tallia said.
He chuckled and continued loving her with his mouth. “Teegan . . .” she whispered, feeling her body melt into his.
He pulled off the rest of her clothes, kissing her slightly round stomach and turning her around to kiss Tallia all over back and to her surprise, over her hips and bottom. His fingers found her center and rubbed below, circling her sweet spot, his thumb pressing against her.
“Please please. . .”
Teegan kissed her bottom again and turned her around so his head was level with Tallia’s belly button. He kissed her stomach before thrusting two fingers into her core, she shook and nearly screamed. It hurt but it was okay because the pleasure of his fingers going in and out of her was intense. She wailed when his fingers took her over the edge.
He kissed her, his lips and tongue centered on her core. The sensations Tallia felt were indescribable. Teegan was teasing her, he knew she need to come again but wasn’t letting her; he was making her wait for him. Teegan removed the rest of his clothes and gently lifted Tallia’s body onto the counter. He pushed both his fingers inside her again, adding a third.
“I’ve never . . .” she whispered suddenly shy.
“At your age? I’m flattered, no one values that these days,” Teegan whispered.
Tallia flushed, “Well it’s complicated. It’s gone but, I never had sex.”
“What do you mean?” Teegan asked stopping. His voice sounded grim.
“Don’t stop, don’t,” Tallia begged.
“Okay, but I will kill whoever did it to you,” he promised.
Tallia believed Teegan, he appeared dead serious even though they were having sex.”It’s fine,” she mumbled. “It was a university party. I was too drunk and fell asleep and he was there sometime. When I woke up he was gone and I hurt,” Tallia admitted anxious for Teegan to continue loving her.
“Are you okay, are . . .”
“Please don’t, don’t stop. Please I need you.”
Teegan nodded, understanding. “You’ve got me,” he replied.He guided himself to her entrance and gently pushed inside.
“Good, more.” Tallia said gripping his sides until Teegan was completely inside her. It stung and hurt but it was also the best feeling she could imagine when he began to move. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he whispered dirty things in her ear, all the things he wanted to do to her.
She felt his rhythm increase and her own body released again, more powerfully this time. She felt the final pushes of him in her body as he came. Teegan breathed heavily, holding Tallia and kissing her forehead.
Then, Tallia was crying, amazed tears were falling down her face. But Teegan gently hushed her and kissed her tears. It was hard for her to believe Teegan could ever be an evil monster. Tallia needed to know more about his past, when he was ready to tell her; she hoped it was soon.
I vaguely remember writing on this topic before, or maybe I read other people’s posts on it but I will give it a try nonetheless.
Many of you know I suffer from a depressive mood disorder which has caused me severe fatigue these past eight-years. I only mention it because I have experienced great improvement with my mental energy levels especially, and a bit with my physical energy levels this past year. Particular supplements have also aided my increase in energy levels.
But I always have bad days now and then. When I was worse I had more bad days than good days and now I would say I only have a bad day one or two days every couple of weeks. What makes a bad day a bad day varies but often means I’m too mentally and physically worn out to do much of anything; I wake up this way.
Today, I found until tonight, I could not concentrate well on writing or reading blogs or books. I would try going through my email to read through some of your posts and I didn’t have it in me to pay attention and give thought to what I was reading or what to comment. I also found myself glossing over pages in books where I regularly would be intent on what was happening to the characters.
I decided to catch up on some TV shows I’d missed the finales of and a show I miss because it’s on in the morning. I like Fashion Friday on a Canadian morning show called Cityline so I watched that as I often sleep through it. Additionally, I watched The Vampire Dairies’ grizzly season Finale and the season Finale for Grimm. I loved both finales and I’m eager for next season’s storylines for each show.
But today mostly consisted of me sitting and watching TV and even after awhile I went to my room and I laid down, needing to sleep a couple hours, feeling as if I needed the nap today. It’s odd, usually I don’t need to nap. I tried to put effort into healthy meals and I thought about walking, but I didn’t have a walk in me.
Most often, I’m up untill 11:00 pm or 12:00 pm but tonight I’m lying in my comfy bed in a sleep shirt, tucked into my cozy duvet and fresh sheets and it’s only 9:00 pm.
I cleaned up my room on Friday and Saturday, completely organizing everything. It’s a nice feeling being in a clean room, no dust, no papers in piles, everything organized, even my clothes and shoes.
At this moment, feeling drained as I have most of the day, I’m writing to you in my perfect writing place in bed on my iPad. I invested in a newer version after Christmas as the old model didn’t have enough GBs. This has 64 GB, enough for ebooks, a large iTunes music collection, and many applications. It also a thinner tablet which is lighter to hold.
The light the iPad gives off in my dim room is fantastic for writing and being comfortable lying down. So, even though this isn’t usually where I write, tonight in bed, is my favourite and ideal writing space.
Tomorrow it will change, but then, tomorrow’s another day and I will have energy to write more and read more again, to take a walk in the warm May weather, maybe even write on the patio. For now, everything is as it should be.
Sorry, I don’t know how to explain a bad day better then I did; it is what it is. It is too difficult to explain unless you’ve experienced it or something similar. Most people are able to keep going in life despite hiccups such as feeling energy-less. But this is a fatigue which stops you in it’s tracks. Nothing can make your body draw on more energy; there is no energy to draw from. Which is why this is severe fatigue I experience and not only being sleepy or tired.
Thanks for reading. Back to fiction, poetry, likes, and commenting on your blogs tomorrow.
Every so often, I try to update you with the details of my life, beneath the writing, and the subtext behind poems. I don’t think I’ve done this since the end of February, so I’d like to share a bit about my life lately.
One of the biggest areas in life I’m working on is my health. Those of you who have been with me a while know I suffer from a mood disorder (depression) and from that depression, excessive amounts of fatigue.
Psychiatric drugs are evil little pills. I started with Invega which stopped an initial psychosis (which has never occurred again) but also made me ‘flat;’ caused a great deal of pain in muscles of my back, shoulders, and neck; as well as resulted in a weight gain over ten pounds. After switching to risperidone, I gained another ten pounds and using a medication to help me sleep called Gabapentin, added twelve pounds or more. The antipsychotic I’m on now works a great deal better for me then any of the ones I was on before, but as usual, I gained another ten pounds.
Experiencing fatigue most of the time makes it difficult to exercise and do cardio. I have been feeling well enough to walk for twenty to thirty minutes three or four times a week. And on off days, I have been trying to do yoga for twenty minutes.
My big change lately has been a diet and supplement overhaul. I use supplements from a
system called the ‘redbox.’ It is a system of health focused not only on losing weight but living a healthy lifestyle. Different supplements in the system have helped many people lose weight; stop feeling chronic pain such as fibromyalgia or arthritis; given people a ton more energy; and aided people in maintaining a fitness level at the gym or otherwise.
Using the supplements you start with an Eight Day Ignite, a detox in which your body gets rid of bad toxins and resets your metabolism so you can lose weight and function better. In my first Eight Days, I lost 5 lbs and 8.5 inches. I was pleased with my initial result, especially losing inches in my hips, waist, and thighs. Many women lose much more then I lost initially. I’m continuing on the ignite plan for the rest of the month (the detox part is finished) and I’m hoping to be able to lose 9 lbs by the end of this month, to reach my first weight and health goal. After, I will continue on some of the supplements on the weight loss plan.
A meal plan is provided, and the plan includes eating well in small meals throughout the day focusing on eating protein and green vegetables. One day I get to eat carbohydrates such as fruit, rice, whole grain bread (etc.) and on Sunday I can eat what I like, it’s a cheat day. The plan also includes exercise of about thirty minutes a day and using some of the supplements. Many people have had great results on these products. So I’m excited to see where they can take me, especially since losing weight without significant cardio has been a challenge.
Besides my health, I have been up to many other things. I have been working a lot on developing short stories and other pieces for submission. I was excited to submit one of my first short stories developed off a Flash Fiction piece I wrote in the past. And I’m looking also at submitting some pieces of poetry in the future. I keep discovering new ideas and new topics that I would like to write short stories to submit. It’s a bit of a challenge as many of you probably know because each place you submit to has different submission guidelines and wants stories of specific length. Short story for instance, vary widely from 800 words to as many as 40, 000 in some of the places I’ve been looking at.
Work on my novel continues, albeit, at a slower pace then I have been doing. Working on
the novel and working on pieces in-between, often results in the novel being left for a week or two. I do plan to write up a couple of chapters this week if possible. The book is at an exciting part so I have to move onward. I thought initially, I was writing long chapters and would have plenty of length for a full book. But PJ asked me if I was doing a novella or novel, and I thought about it a bit and I think I might have to add some parts into the novel, or weave in a second storyline. I will see where I am at the end of the first draft which is rapidly coming to a close. I’m thankful to have a blogger friend Martin, offering to go through and help edit my book once I have all the chapters together on word, and I will do the same for his book. Then, I suppose I will be doing a whole bunch of rewriting.
In-between this all I’m still working through different forms of poetry, doing the one word prompts provided by The Daily Post , as well as my novel. I will not be doing The Daily Post prompts in April due to National Poetry Writing Month. But, you will still find I do the odd beauty post and other topics that come to my mind.
I’m not sure how completing the POPSUGAR booklist will end up. I read here and there but have only been able to get through two or three books lately. I know when spring finally arrives (in appearance), and I can see the flowers and not see it snowing outside, I will be in much more of a reading mood.
In addition to writing and health, I’m going to movies, catching up on my favourite shows such as Scandal (my favourite right now), watching movies on Netflix, seeing friends whenever I can, doing a bit of dating, and fitting everything else in when I can. Hope all is going well for you.
I know there is an A to Z challenge going on with some bloggers in April but I also wanted to bring up another fantastic challenge I’m doing in April. April is National Poetry Writing Month or NaPoWriMo. It is similar to Blogging 201 Poetry except for you’re writing a poem with a prompt provided on the website, everyday for the month of April. You can check it out and add your blog to the list of bloggers participating here if you want to join me for the challenge.
I am sitting in this place, stuck within this space; trying to get out and find a burst of energy.
I know I’ll never find it, but it doesn’t stop me from asking for it; that my suffering be taken away.
But I think that the man upstairs, sees more then we’re to know; we struggle with obstacles, and life isn’t fair.
Still, I’ll pray every single night, let me go back to a healthy life; let me work and let me exercise, let me concentrate, and memorize.
But I’m scared to ask for anything, when things get worse, when I ask for it to be better; maybe I shouldn’t ask, just be happy with an imperfect world.
What I want is so small, but would make such a difference to me. I could live a normal life and play on a level playing field with most everyone else.
I could have such empathy for those suffering because I know what it is to be in pain, to not live, while the world around you does.
But instead, I stay at home. I work on another course, and I sleep too much; I try to do some housework and I tire easily with just a bit of exercise; I loved so much to be fit and work my body hard.
Sometimes going out in the day makes me fatigued for a day or two, never mind, the night; I just want a life, I just want to be able to do what many people do.
I want to live out a normal day, in the most normal way; not have my life ruled by a disease; neurons misfiring at synapses.
I don’t know what will make it right, not a medication, only a miracle; so I pray every night, and will always ask to have my energy back, to sleep well, and concentrate all day.
But I’m not sure my prayers will come to fruition because sometimes the answer is “no.” But I just can’t entertain that a God who loves me so, wants me to suffer this way all my life.
I would do so much better if I could be around people, and I could laugh and be myself again; who is this woman, I do not know? My identity is tied to this disease, it’s hard to separate “it” and “me.”
I blame my genes; I guess they’d be responsible for some kind of pain anyways; but not for everything, not for a mental, physical, psychological disease; it haunts me, lives in me, as an unwanted parasite.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” – Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
When was the last time this quote accurately described your life?
It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when this statement was true for me. There are a few times in my life when I could describe times as being both the best and worst but I believe the most recent time has been the last six years of my life as a whole.
These six years have been the worst of times because I have been battling with a depressive mood disorder and likely Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. The way these diseases have limited my life seem unbelievable to me. I had to give up driving because I cannot pay attention very well and do not have the reflexes I once did. Someday I hope I can just drive to the grocery store or Shoppers Drug Mart and back but that someday isn’t right now.
I use to be an extremely social person and was very close to my friends. Now I feel because of my disease that gap has widened. Partly because I can attend so few events. Night is a difficult time for me so I often can’t go out that late and transportation and money are always an issue because I often do not have money to take a cab both ways or to bus because of energy. I can bus one way in the day usually but I’m just less alert and more fatigued during the night.
Chronic fatigue has also made it impossible for me to exercise at a level where I can lose weight put on from medications and inactivity. I love exercise, I have for a very long time but my body wears out quickly even during 20 minutes of yoga and cardio usually just makes me sick to my stomach and completely wears me out for the rest of the day, especially lately. It is a symptom of CF Syndrome.
Another big issue is that I can usually only concentrate for a couple hours at a time and when I go out I use to be able to do about 4-5 hours but now 3 is all I can handle. Then I go home so exhausted I have to crawl into bed and just sleep for hours, sometimes days. I have malais, which means after a big activity I require often a day or two of recovery time.
Those are the worst of times for me but despite my illness there have been some good times as well. There have been vacations with my Mom and Dad and/or brother to Las Vegas, Anaheim, Phoenix, and Montreal. All of which, despite becoming exhausted by mid-afternoon I have enjoyed so much and have fought to rest up in time at night for dinner and shows.
I have found out who my real friends are because they are the one’s who have stuck by me through thick and through thin. They were there to visit me in the hospital when I was first sick and they are here now with a ride, to share some coffee or wine with, and to invite me out and hang out when we have the time in our busy lives. They understand I need time to rest and cannot make it to every event and they can tell when I have had enough when I’m out with them.
I met my boyfriend A through a dating website called Plenty of Fish. Our first date we went for coffee at the 2nd Cup and went to the movie 21 Jump Street downtown. He has been my guy since and despite the fact we fight and get really mad at each other at times we have been together over three years. At first I was too sick for the first three years of my illness to consider boyfriends but when the time came that I was interested in guys again, he was there.
I have become so much closer to my family both my parents and brothers, and my grandparents, godparents, and extended family. I have learnt that I can rely on them and that we can take care of each other. I have rediscovered religion and the place that has in my life. My illness began with a psychotic episode in which I was so afraid I was separated from God and experiencing Hell. So, I’m grateful to be able to say I truly believe in God and his son Jesus and have no desire to be a part from them but to share them with others who want that. I have learnt not to be so selfish but to talk to others whether they are strangers who just need a smile or friends who I have not seen in ages.
This is why the past 6 years have been the best years of my life. And I think If I’m truthful, the best of times would not be the best without having those bad times.
I have always tried to be a kind and thoughtful person to my friends and relatives. My family, especially my parents and brothers, could tell you that growing up there were times when I was not nice at all. There were times I tantrumed as a small child and a teenager, times my brothers became blamed for things they hadn’t done, and times I was just grumpy.
When I worked at a University Bookstore for 5 years during and little bit after University, my boss and good friend, use to tell me that mostly I was nice and cheerful but she always knew when to stay away from me and leave me to myself. If I, being thought of as mostly a nice girl was like this, I’m scared to think how other women, particularly young women, I met became when they were in a bad mood. One thing I did find though at least for myself, being in the wrong mood as a teenager and young woman mostly got better, or at least I was generally able to tell when I would act this way and attempt to be nicer on those days.
Unfortunately for me some 8 years later I deal with two impediments to my being a kind person. I have found with constant illness and being stuck at home generally during my best time of day (during the middle of the day) one medication that I take called Dexedrine begins to wear off around 4 pm when everyone comes home during the week. The second impediment is simply that when I am worn out (fatigued as in chronically) and not able to have sum up enough energy to walk past my bed, I’m not a nice person. In both cases I would say I have the symptom of irritability.
It is such that I am very aware of it and much like a child who needs a nap, I’m stand offish, not able to handle drawn out conversation or activity, blunt, and unsociable. But sometimes you have to accept certain medical symptoms because they give better benefits at other times in the day. I don’t take Dexedrine because I enjoy the ‘crash’ I receive from it each day. This is not fun but Dexedrine allows me to have enough concentration during the day that I can do light chores, write, read, and go out for a few hours. Irritability when I come down off the Dexedrine is a price to be paid, a medical symptom. Not to mention the irritability I feel after losing all my energy and becoming fatigued. It is a symptom of my mood illness and the price I must pay to have energy at all on random days. It doesn’t happen every day but on days I haven’t slept well or have overdone it, I’m symptomatically irritable.
I’m not entirely sure why I wanted to share that. Maybe just to tell you that their are many symptoms of any illness and some of them are just as prevalent as any physical symptom such as the symptom of always feeling fatigued even after rest. Maybe, to also make you aware that irritability can be a symptom of any physical or mental illness and both from the flu to mood syndromes.
Also, to tell you that people who act a certain way when they are sick maybe extremely aware of how they are acting, they just don’t in all situations have much control over how they are acting. For instance, I hate when I’m talking to my Mom and I’m just saying ” yep, mmmhmmppp,” just to get the conversation to end because it is such a relief when it does because then I don’t have think and respond because I’m so fatigued. I want to say, ” Oh, that sounds good,” and “tell me more,” at least most of the time. But it doesn’t seem that I’m always able to get past my irritability to listen and be interested in the conversation, despite wanting to be involved.
I think sometimes we want to act a certain way, and be a certain way, but we don’t always have much control over the emotions and illnesses that can take control of our bodies. Then again, many times we do and I didn’t write this to be an excuse merely an example of situation or a symptom I experience.
Static. Motionless. Stagnant. Stale. Still. I have a fear of all these words. When it comes to my life I’m afraid of not going anywhere. I’m afraid I will be still and stuck. I’m afraid of wasting away in a stagnant life. I’m terrified of remaining motionless. I’m afraid of being static. I’m terrified I will end up a stale person. I mean I’m afraid of never getting ahead in life. I’m afraid of never having achieved much of anything. I’m guilty of these fears because I have been sick a long time. I have been sick almost 6 years.
Sometimes, honestly, I could do nothing. I was stuck because I was ill. Too ill to think. Too ill to get out of bed. Too ill to concentrate. Too ill to take care of myself barely. Too ill to make myself lunch. Too ill to rise above being ill. But sometimes I feel a bit better and then I’m afraid because I don’t want to be stuck inside all the time. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to live with my parents much longer. I want to work. I don’t want to miss that event my friends are going to. I don’t want to be too fatigued. I don’t want to take so much time to rest. I want my old life back. But instead I get this life.
It’s not so bad. You get use to your own situation in life. But then I get terribly ill sometimes and I hate life. I’m afraid of disappearing. I’m afraid of never getting to be independent. I’m afraid of being independent. I’m afraid of too much. I’m afraid of of being forgotten. I’m afraid of having high hopes. I’m afraid of that fire within that wants to achieve. I’m afraid of being goal-oriented. I’m afraid of not getting what I most desire — I don’t want to hide the best parts of me.
I don’t want to hide behind manners and trying to fit in. I don’t want to hide behind polite conversation. I don’t want to hide behind false pretences. I want to believe that I can do most anything. I need to believe I have potential. My potential is what hides away. My dreams stay hidden. And every now and then I find a purpose. I want to believe that I can fulfill that purpose. I want to believe I have a purpose. I am potential. But I’m afraid to step into the light the place where creative energy thrives.
I want to write. I want to create. I want recognition. I want a career. I want people to see me not as that person who is sick but as that person who is capable despite sickness. I am plane afraid of not accomplishing my calling. I’m afraid of what people think. I’m afraid of what people say. I want to be capable again. I want so badly to just not be sick. I need so badly God’s grace. And need to achieve something I dream. Is that too much to ask? Or am I just living in fear?