The balmy hands of suffocation swaddle you in
Chloroform haze pinning your wings
Fixing your already deceased shell in time
No amount of sunlight,
No number of success stories
Lifts your drowning spirit
No effort is enough and you feel the glass lid
Casting its translucent veil closer
Closer still until
The box shuts and you can only watch
Resigned to your fate, each moment
Stretched out, prone for the world to see.
I think the punctuation needs mending here, but at least I finished it before midnight today.
I had this meticulously planned afternoon/evening. After my blood test, I would go home for a bit, see my husband before he had to get back on the road for his usual Tuesday obligation, leave to get my car smog checked, check out a bikram yoga spot nearby as a means of easing back into being physically active, stop by the supermarket on the way home to pick up necessities for husband’s lunch, get home at least an hour and a half before he got back so that lunch could be packed, I would have showered, and we’d split the curry goat I bought earlier this afternoon, I’d finish my drawing and then get back to reading my new book, or I’d jump on the internet and plan where I’m hiking with my friend tomorrow. Such goals. Such lofty aspirations.
I got as far as seeing my husband, then getting my car smog checked before it all fell apart. Rather, I fell apart in my mind. I casually mentioned that I was planning to attend a yoga class after smog at which I was curtly reminded that we have a membership at a gym which I haven’t been to for months…
(reasons being: an ankle injury and pain lasting several months, followed by exhausting commute once school year started, coupled with no help around the house in simple things resulting in a multitude of overwhelmingly negative and self-deprecating feelings, and thus a desire to withdraw from all other human lifeforms; also a general abhorrence for (forced positive) conversations with other people after a grueling drive and a high-energy work environment while being in a high-energy workout environment when all I really want and need is peace and silence, and an opportunity to think about what I really want and need to say to the person I live and share a space with, totally casting aside the one sport that still constantly fantasize about one day doing again).
The train of guilt followed me out the door. By the time I got home after the smog inspection, my entire plan had already derailed. My husband left for his obligation, and I felt deflated that my attempt to exercise (yes, pun) some determination in regaining a foothold in “normal life” had been shot down. It was already 4:20 so I could potentially have made it to the 4:30 class. My body felt heavy, my chest hurt. I didn’t have it in me to go to the gym and be in a room with loud music, and people I don’t really know or care to know. I could see myself walking out of the workout halfway through and just crying in the bathroom. I did not have the energy to resort to yoga either so I went home. I was not ready by 4:30…
Or 5:30…
Maybe 6? There’s another location I could go for a class…
Nope.
6:30?
7:00? Ok, it was 7:05 and I had finally mustered up enough mental composure to get dressed and drive to the gym for the last class at 7:30. Thankfully, I was the only one there when I arrived, and was joined only by two other ladies who came late.
We finished at 8:30 and I still had to go to the supermarket and prepare lunches. It all seemed just too much, but I got it done and have held it in up till now.
Every day it’s something else I’m doing wrong. I just don’t think I’m cut out for this.
Another Notebook 