Pig and farm report pt. 3
"It's like there's this horse inside my soar plexus," I said to Cindy over the phone, "bucking to get out."
Dodie Bellamy, WHEN THE SICK RULE THE WORLD
day 3 of my titrated dose of tegretol and my fingers are on the wrong keys The Surfer is home I told him I'd make enchiladas for him but even thinking of it made me tired so I changed my mind he took me to the beach in my sad men's pajamas from Sears the same soft flannels I've had for years then left to do Surfer stuff I lay in bed reading the Dodie Bellamy book which is brilliant a book one of my Writing Wives told me about I knew I had to take a shower today seriously it has been three days so I finally got in the tub but not before I stepped in two cat water bowls tipping the cold everywhere soaking it into my blue bathmat leaving it in a puddle on the tile floor
I want to be a writer again it is in me under the surface of my skin like blood ticking through but I have tried many times to get more tegretol into my body and failed given up it is an undertaking it is going under it feels like sick stomach and fuzzy brain it feels clumsy and stupid it feels like drowning but calmer no struggle
I keep putting my fingers on the wrong keys I have the television on low volume listening to the Father Knows Best marathon on one of the ghost cable channels a true testament to the garbage politics of Terrible America I close my eyes and it feels like awake sleeping I close my eyes and marvel at Betty and her frou-frou dresses her fancy girlness she reminds me of only one girl an older girl named Becky Bunch who was actually like that a date every night a fancy dress for every dance I was in her bedroom once when she was supposed to be babysitting me she took off her blouse and her bra was pink and lacy I had no idea pink lacy bras existed I had no idea women could be soft and affectionate and smart and popular I close my eyes and hear Alex Trebek telling me I'd better make sure my plans for burial are in place I close my eyes and Bud revs his car I close my eyes and Margaret tries to escape her kitchen I close my eyes and an advertisement full of fear culture trip trops past my eyelids telling me I need more insurance against identity theft more protection from the dark web more protection from strangers and a button to push in case I fall and can't get up all this crap aged at people just a bit older than I am and Kathy becoming a young woman now in a pony tail no pig tails dating a boy named Burgess and I remember her actual history of sexual abuse by her stepfather which I cannot ignore and how did no one on this huge television production know what was happening to her how did they miss it how did my father miss what was happening to me I close my eyes but no sleep comes just this waking coma
I tried walking around the house without a bandaid on my stigmata but the weight of my breast made it ache not yet not yet I never used to heal this slowly though today I walked up through the forest without my cane the first time since November I never use it in the house or on flat surfaces but after that time my knee collapsed under me when I stepped off the steep porch I have been more careful
there are pinto beans in the pot there is one fat onion there are garnet cherry tomatoes and true fleshy sweet red strawberries and here I am in bed wondering if I should thaw out the jar of tangelo curd I made last winter and eat it with a spoon here I am in bed wondering how long it will take me to walk to the bathroom and remember to put on deodorant
transmission from the Avenue of Lost Souls
Dodie Bellamy, WHEN THE SICK RULE THE WORLD
day 3 of my titrated dose of tegretol and my fingers are on the wrong keys The Surfer is home I told him I'd make enchiladas for him but even thinking of it made me tired so I changed my mind he took me to the beach in my sad men's pajamas from Sears the same soft flannels I've had for years then left to do Surfer stuff I lay in bed reading the Dodie Bellamy book which is brilliant a book one of my Writing Wives told me about I knew I had to take a shower today seriously it has been three days so I finally got in the tub but not before I stepped in two cat water bowls tipping the cold everywhere soaking it into my blue bathmat leaving it in a puddle on the tile floor
I want to be a writer again it is in me under the surface of my skin like blood ticking through but I have tried many times to get more tegretol into my body and failed given up it is an undertaking it is going under it feels like sick stomach and fuzzy brain it feels clumsy and stupid it feels like drowning but calmer no struggle
I keep putting my fingers on the wrong keys I have the television on low volume listening to the Father Knows Best marathon on one of the ghost cable channels a true testament to the garbage politics of Terrible America I close my eyes and it feels like awake sleeping I close my eyes and marvel at Betty and her frou-frou dresses her fancy girlness she reminds me of only one girl an older girl named Becky Bunch who was actually like that a date every night a fancy dress for every dance I was in her bedroom once when she was supposed to be babysitting me she took off her blouse and her bra was pink and lacy I had no idea pink lacy bras existed I had no idea women could be soft and affectionate and smart and popular I close my eyes and hear Alex Trebek telling me I'd better make sure my plans for burial are in place I close my eyes and Bud revs his car I close my eyes and Margaret tries to escape her kitchen I close my eyes and an advertisement full of fear culture trip trops past my eyelids telling me I need more insurance against identity theft more protection from the dark web more protection from strangers and a button to push in case I fall and can't get up all this crap aged at people just a bit older than I am and Kathy becoming a young woman now in a pony tail no pig tails dating a boy named Burgess and I remember her actual history of sexual abuse by her stepfather which I cannot ignore and how did no one on this huge television production know what was happening to her how did they miss it how did my father miss what was happening to me I close my eyes but no sleep comes just this waking coma
I tried walking around the house without a bandaid on my stigmata but the weight of my breast made it ache not yet not yet I never used to heal this slowly though today I walked up through the forest without my cane the first time since November I never use it in the house or on flat surfaces but after that time my knee collapsed under me when I stepped off the steep porch I have been more careful
there are pinto beans in the pot there is one fat onion there are garnet cherry tomatoes and true fleshy sweet red strawberries and here I am in bed wondering if I should thaw out the jar of tangelo curd I made last winter and eat it with a spoon here I am in bed wondering how long it will take me to walk to the bathroom and remember to put on deodorant
transmission from the Avenue of Lost Souls
posted by Radish King at 1:58 PM
6 Comments:
And now I am crying still in bed with Hal on my arm.
Love
This is what Lidia Yuknavitch says: ""To the fatherless, to the wounded by fathers, To those haunted by whatever father was or is: there are other origins. The night sky, stitched as it is with stars, carries pieces of us all. And oceans. And each of our hands, making meaning from nothing."
I told Mary Moon, and I'll tell you, you make meaning from nothing and everything. These posts are writing -- they startle and sing and make my heart burst. They give me energy to live and write and love.
Elizabeth you have no idea how intensely the thought of you in my air space makes all of this easier. My sickness my med switch up my writing all of it. I love you.
Yes, this is incandescent writing. Didn't think I could spell that word but you inspire the effort. You brought me so deep inside the experience with your writing I'm still kind of swirling, swooning. I love you dear Rebecca.
R said it best, incandescent. Hal is truly a handsome boy! Much love.
Xoxo
Barbara
Dearest Barbara thank you! Hal is such a beast which is his other private name. He follows me everywhere I go like a puppy and sleeps curled in my armpit like Paris used to do except Paris was tiny and fit there. Hal just muscles in. Wolfie visits everyday but Hal patrols the perimeter of wherever I am alas and shoos her away. Blessed by the Animal Gods and grateful.
Love
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