Hey, Daph. I know I woke up too early again today. Before 4, even. I tried not to bother you, sweet girl, but you always know when Momma’s up and about. When I made hash with soy sauce and fried eggs I could hear you rustling around in your crate, and the sweet notes of birds passing back and forth outside. I ate the hash on the sofa and you watched me, and then I let you out back, my good girl, we went into the garage, you faithfully by my side, I got out the blanket that you’d puked on last night, we went back upstairs. I tell you, “Go home, go home, Daphne,” and you always know what that means, even if you don’t always listen to me. Today we’re probably going to have to go to the vet again, and I hope there’s nothing really very wrong with you. I was going to say, I couldn’t take it, but I’ve learned that I can take a lot of things. But I love you, little Daph, and I want you to be okay. So we played with Pink Friend and Pink Bunny this morning, plus your bully stick from Mel and Clover (sweet ladies), and let’s just hang out like girl friends today, let’s do one another’s nails and friendly-gossip till Dad gets home. I love you.
- I’m having an awesome time gallivanting about in my life, and have no time for doing things like tip-tapping away on my computer; alternately, I’m having a crazy busy time gallivanting about in my life, and have no time for doing things like, etc.
- The mere thought of getting online and doing anything but reading my Twitter feed exhausts my addled brain.
In this case, my weeklong absence has been due to the latter.
For now I will say that a bonus in my life has been the accidental greying of my hair, as seen above. It was meant to be my usual blonde, but instead came out a bluish-silver shade.
I have been thinking about how I always prided myself on loving fiercely and intensely and how I had forgotten what hurt that can bring. I am perhaps more naive as an adult than I was as a teenager, in this case. Daphne and I had wild, blank, dumb animal fun late into the night last night. Eventually I had to put her squeaky toys away because I was afraid of bothering the neighbors. I picked some jasmine from the enormous climbing plant by our bedroom window and put it in a small brown apothecary bottle. I am living. You are too.
This morning I received my agent’s detailed edits for Part One of Delusions. It’s a joy, to have something concrete to work on.
Carry on, sweet lovelies.
Oh, oh, ’tis happened again. A few weeks of steady mental decline, leading to bloodwork, leading to the test results — my body has somehow been metabolizing my mood stabilizer differently again. Which means that I am sub-threshold for a therapeutic level in the blood. This is what happened in August-January 2011/12, which landed me in the hospital. I won’t be back there again this time if I can help it, but have been struggling. It is so hard to care for Daphne, for example, when my brain is malfunctioning. C does a wonderful job, but he has to leave the house sometimes — today he’s gone all day for work — and then it’s just Daph and me, and I have to take her out and make sure she’s not vomiting or eating strange things. It reminds me, yet again, of why I cannot see myself having a child. Yes, Mommy is lying on the couch again today and crying. No, she will not play with you. Yes, the things she says do not make sense.
Daphne doesn’t put much stock in those things. She just jumps on my chest and licks my nose and face until I giggle despite myself. I have a Pilates class and a Skype date today, and maybe a dinner at my aunt and uncle’s house, and it all seems like so much — I know already that after I post this I’m going to crawl back under the blanket on the couch, and will sleep (I hope).
Today Daphne acted up, vomited, ran out the front door and Chris had to chase her down the block. I experienced a manic dysphoria/dysphoric mania that resulted in calling Chris, who was at the shop getting the Ford’s oil changed, and sobbing into the phone about the spiders living in my brain.
There are no spiders living in your brain, he said, I promise.
Later I made dinner: quinoa with butter, chicken broth, plum tomatoes, and delicate salmon filets. I finished my work. I wore my favorite sweatshirt.
And I have been hurt, lately, by a dear friend, and I don’t know what to do.
What have you been doing?
Someone once said to me, If you are too gentle, it is the same as being hurt.