181 - A God, Castaway

Lin

My head's been alright today, but my body has not.

Yet again, I struggle with eating and nausea, and the hunger eats away at me - but for the life of me, I cannot fuel myself consistently.

I also got a wicked hot flush this afternoon, and it's had me spend most of my day in bed.

Perhaps some of my symptoms have come up as a result of my being more active in my pursuit of recovery, and as a result, my body's reacting to my anxiety lowering due to the medication with much askance.

Despite some of this, my symptoms have actually been far less stressful in general, and therefore easier to manage on my own, due to said medication.

I managed to change when I took my medication as well this morning, as I am not spending until 4 in the morning unable to sleep during the darker hours.

Whilst it still feels like I can't do as much, it feels as though I can do considerably more than I gave myself credit for, once this period of adjustment to my meds wears off.

Honestly, I'm beginning to feel better. No dreams to remember as of yet since before taking the meds, but this is only my second dose, and they're one tablet a day, so it's easy to remember. I'll definitely mention if I have any dreams, though.

This feeling of not being able to eat, of what feels like a radiator at my back, is being cast away.

Rolling tides seem to steer me out of the zone that is my comfort. But somehow, I find solace within these feelings, within this discomfort - that I survived long enough to medicate, and for now, balance out my emotions, until I can get proper therapy.

Keep in mind too that due to my anxiety decreasing significantly, it doesn't feel nearly as urgent as it did before, and the pain I was feeling in my body has reduced as well.

Though I have also had periods of feeling slight weakness, which I usually don't feel when I'm off medicine, so there's that.

Overall, despite my want to do things and be able to feel on my own again, I'm somewhat content mentally.

My eating disorder is a separate kettle of fish, which I need to figure out in my own time.

Sweeney holds out a bowl of colcannon for me, and I accept it gratefully, despite being unsure of my appetite.

Don't worry, lad. If ye can't eat now, eat later.

I nod, slowly placing the bowl onto the coffee table, and wrapping myself back into my throw properly. He ruffles my hair.

People are worried about ye.

I sigh.

I know.

There just seems to be no end in sight.

He nods.

I get ye, lad. I dealt with similar when I went cold turkey on the whisky, which, as ye know, I still drink on occasion.

I cast him a questioning look.

But wasn't that programmed?

Aye, but old habits can be difficult to take yerself out of when you're used to them, and addictions and mental health issues are no different.

Your eating disorder was also programmed in, but most of the spiritual stuff there has been dealt with, I think, besides some control stuff ye need to address. But that's probably better discussed during a reiki session or with a therapist, lad.

I nod.

I just booked another. The last one really helped, so hopefully this one will, too. Though I only had the money for a ten minute session.

Sweeney smiles.

Well, it's better than nothing, lad. You taking initiative towards your healing is the most important thing right now, so don't be ashamed or embarrassed about asking for support. Alright?

Alright.

Do ye still want company?

I nod.

Ok, then I'm staying here, too.

Go raibh maith agat.

He ruffles my hair.

Of course.

For a minute, we sit like that, and at some intervals, when the nausea doesn't bitch slap me, I shovel small amounts of colcannon into my mouth.

Sweeney, from the looks of things, is reading the news on his phone. Every now and again, when he finds something that I might be interested in, he draws my attention to it. 

Somebody thinks they found a new mineral in fossilised lightning, lad.

At this, I perk up slightly.

Really?

Aye.

He shows me the article.

Said they found it in Florida after a tree got struck by lightning.

I smile.

That's Litavite.

He laughs.

Do ye know what, it probably is.

We both grin conspiratorially.

How long do you think it'll take them to find out?

He shrugs.

Give them a few years te figure out that we're Gods, then how lightning is properly made. I'd say 100 years.

I cackle.

How much do you want to bet?

I'll not be betting with you, lad. I know better than to gamble with Time.

I grin.

Also, I wouldn't want ye staking yer money anyway.

I nod.

Fair point.

He sighs, shaking his head.

We've got to get ye out of being bored, haven't we?

I pause. In all honesty, I do feel quite stagnant in my life, but it's not the same as how I felt before the meds - and I know I'm safe now. However, I do wish for more. Knowing my luck, it'll start properly when I actually begin to get better.

I can do impulse control. I might be bored, but I'm not irresponsible.

He nods, smiling.

Aye, you're a good leader, lad. Always know that.

And again, we sit in this glorious silence, me bundled in my throw, Sweeney still reading whilst occasionally reaching out to ruffle my hair.

I think, to experience more mundane moments like this, I'd like to get better.