Nothing, Really

One of the first things I did this morning was sit up and spit a mouthful of red froth into a glass. The blood at the back of my throat caught me by surprise as I laid there – a little cough and suddenly hello red stuff. I wasn’t too impressed at my body’s start to the day. It probably should have alarmed me, but my brain wasn’t really capable of that, even when reality tried so hard to coax some sort of reaction out of it.

I was starting to feel again, slowly. And then today I woke up… Hollow. Not numb, because numbness feels heavy and thick like a fog, but hollow. Last night my heart decided to have a little tantrum. My scientific, logical brain half kicked in, and then I just rolled over and went to sleep. I don’t really… I don’t really know what I’m doing or why I’m writing this.

My mind has been all over the place – mostly hollow, occasionally and very briefly sure of itself, and the rest of the time completely nonchalant and apathetic. I have an essay due in on Wednesday. I wasn’t in the tutorial in which the essay was set. I was in hospital for most of the time we were meant to write the stupid thing, and I really don’t care about it. Not a conscious effort to not care, or a deliberate dismissal – my brain just cannot engage enough for me to essay. Or to find any motivation or concern.  But at some point I am going to feel all the feels again, and I might do my old familiar thing of throwing myself into uni work with such gusto that I completely lose who I am (which I guess is usually my intention). Or I might not. I might become this fragile thing that breaks in ways it can’t understand and falls apart under the slightest pressure. If either occurs, the last thing I’ll want is the university on my back. But I couldn’t even think I should do that. The first essay we were ever set on this degree course, I produced in one day. The day before it was due in, to be precise. So I mean… It’s achievable. If my brain could fill itself with something (my attitude has swung between a complete apathy and a momentary fleeting thought of come on then university, bite me – neither of which are helpful).

Processed with MOLDIV
My morning in a photo – a pile of work I can’t even think about, the hat I put on and haven’t removed since, headphones I thought I might use but don’t even know where they are now, and Einstein demanding that I change his syringe and lines and put a new needle into myself – which then managed to fall out so I didn’t get any insulin for several hours.

I literally have no idea what I’ve done all day. I sat down to work at about 10am, in a place where my mother could see me, to appease her and quash the flames of her judgement and frustration around my inability to university. I’m still sat here at 5pm. I haven’t gone anywhere else (other than to the hob to cook myself a stir fry for lunch, and go to the bathroom). Most of the time, my laptop has sat idle for so long that it goes to sleep. And yet, I am still staring at a blank document. I’ve done nothing. I haven’t listened to music. I haven’t sat on my phone. I think I’ve literally sat here all day with time passing and me totally unaware that it is. I think. Maybe? I mean, the TV has been on in the background, and I probably watched it at some point. But other than that and cuddling my dog, I’ve genuinely just sat doing nothing for hours. Which y’know… Usually puts some sort of thought into a brain. But no. A deadness kind of settled within me. I also seem to have no time for most people (there are a few exceptions… My hospital friend…) which makes me sound like an arsehole, but I genuinely don’t know how to handle that right now. I don’t know how to respond to stuff.

I really need to find some motivation or ability to care from somewhere, because I also have a lab report due in on Thursday, and no time to work on Wednesday because I have hospital stuff and then I’m going back to uni. I don’t want to go back to uni. I don’t care about this stuff. I don’t actually really seem to care about living until it comes down to the wire and I realise that in reality I’m so scared of not living that my mind just decided not to care at all so it wouldn’t break.

It’s weird. My brain knows how it should feel and how it should respond, and when it is able to, it projects that. My friend who has the same cardiologist as me (the one who stayed on the phone with me for 9 hours the other night and saved my life) sees right through this, but doesn’t know how to respond. She gets me on a level that nobody else healthy really can at the moment – we keep sending each other messages with the same thought at exactly the same time and it’s seriously freaking us out. She also seems to think I’m super wise, and says I’m “Like yoda but less… ugly.” Somehow I’m completely dead but managing to throw words at her that help her out and seem to make her think I have a way with words. I hate my brain for being able to do this. Why can it help… Well basically NOT ITSELF?!?!?!?! See now there, you’d think there was confusion or frustration. There should be. But there isn’t. But you wouldn’t know that, because my brain seems to have laid a defence mechanism on top of a defence mechanism.

My attempt to induce some sort of something yesterday was to buy myself a fluffy christmas onesie and a christmas jumper and my second new wooly hat in two days (I love hats. It’s a thing. I’ve been wearing a bobble hat all day). It didn’t induce anything other than a sort of screaming sound from my bank account as it haemorrhaged money. I think maybe going for a long run might sort of fix this, because endorphins bind to the same receptors in the brain as opiates do (so a runner’s high is a genuine thing). If even endorphins cannot induce some sort of something, then I’m pretty messed up. I say this, but I don’t have any motivation anything to even put on some running shoes and go for a run. Plus, my heart seems to be stressed out enough by me sitting down at the moment, and I’ve started to retain water like a pro.

So I mean… Basically the conclusion to this complete awful nothing of a blog post is that I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t know what to do.

Well. This post was about as productive as my day. I might not post it. I might delete it. We’ll see, I guess. This may be the biggest pile of junk I have ever written. If it had a consciousness it would be having an existential crisis in light of its pointlessness. I’m sorry. Thanks for reading it, and for the comments lately too. They’ve been… Pretty awesome actually.

I promise you I’m not normally this much of a complete arsehole. I’m just so dead inside right now, and I’m trying not to be, but y’know, there isn’t much of me that even seems to be capable of… Things.

Thanks for sticking with this. This post, this blog (for those that follow it) and erm… Yeah. I guess.


2 thoughts on “Nothing, Really

  1. Actually you write well, always. Even when you don’t seem to care for yourself your care for others shines through. You have such capacity for love and it shows even if you think it doesn’t. Don’t worry about school. It will always be there. You can’t imagine how many years it took me to finish a bachelor’s degree…but I digress. Love the hat. Wish you could see my cardioligist. Sending all my best across the pond. Good news, Angel was out of the hospital for Thanksgiving. That was awesome.


    • Thank you for this. A lot. So glad to hear about Angel getting to enjoy Thanksgiving, that’s BEYOND awesome. All everyone around me cares about is uni. You’re always so kind and your words are so sweet, thank you. Sorry I haven’t emailed much lately. I’ve blogged and that’s kind of it. Glad to have my second family across the pond, thank you again. Best wishes to you all and happy belated Thanksgiving

      Liked by 1 person

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