Thoughts on Trying to Rest
For those readers who wonder how I could write so wryly about facing death down a couple nights ago and feeling only disappointment when it did not arrive, I only can point to today as an example. I only managed to sleep for a few hours before waking in the early hours of the morning the rumbling of the neighbor's truck to the south of us. His schedule is quite odd, but I'm sure it can't be helped that he has to leave at 2:30am. But do we really need to be treated to 5 minutes of warmup and pealing tires as he heads out?
As I started to relax again, the cops chased someone through the neighborhood with a constant quick bursts on the siren. I'm sure the bursts of sound is better than just running the damn thing, but it seems pretty clear that the perpetrator was unable to hear it. No wonder considering how many play they car stereos so loudly that we are treated to the thumps through the neighborhood all day long. Or maybe this one was jabbering on the phone? But I'd be willing to bet, given the hour of the morning, that they had a few too many.
The pain had decreased substantially, but rolling over the wrong way was still uncomfortable and deep breaths were painful. Sleep was impossible to regain though mostly because my lower body aches from being so tired -- this is a regular part of my disease and not directly the result of the flu attack. As I would relax, the muscle twitches and jerks were much more severe than they have been in a long time. Once while laying on my back, everything but my bum was lifted off the bed. [On a side note, I can't imagine anyone being able to sleep next to me without being physically hurt as I kick and punch though I hope it subsides once sleep takes me. I just don't know.]
Soon it was late enough that it hardly made sense to fall asleep since I'd only have to wake up after a short while to take my morning meds. But by then, I was so tired sleep came fairly quickly and easily. I then slept on and off until something like 4:30pm so that made about 7 hours of deep enough sleep if only the neighbors didn't constantly wake me up. Oh, there was the usual calling from neighbor to neighbor and short chats on the back deck, but that hardly compares with the all day yipping of the dog across the street. [And the apartment owner got upset because my dog barked when he parked in front of my apartment and insisted that I keep him from barking "for my neighbor's benefit". But considering he only barks when they do something...]
But I digress, the worst started up about noon when the screamer started throwing chunks of metal around his backyard. After 45 minutes or so of that the pounding started as he broke and beat the scrap. I thought about getting up and watching TV, but I knew that if it didn't last too long, I would need to go back to sleep. Luckily today there was no screaming tirade. No "fucking nigger, I hate you ass hole" yelled at the top of his lungs. No "goddamn mother fuckers what the fuck are you looking at" shouted at the kids as they walk past his house on the way home. No screaming at the barking dogs which so clearly bark at the noise he makes. And no screaming like a banshee for who knows what reason. So as soon as his attention was taken elsewhere, I was deep in dreamland once again.
It wasn't until 7pm though that I decided I was ready to get up. I figured the dog wanted to go out and do some business and I was feeling a bit hungry -- the first time since Saturday. I mostly feel recovered though I feel pretty run down, but I know that will be cured with a few more nights of good, long sleep. If only the rains would return that might even be guaranteed, but with dry, clear weather the neighbors are encouraged to be out and about and noise carries. It's not that I truly begrudge them their joys, whatever they might be, it's just that I find my own joy in was that seem quite different. Peace and quiet are at the top of my list, especially when I'm recovering from intense, if short lived, illness.
So why not move? Well, I moved here to escape an even worse apartment complex with even more troubling noise issues, if that can be believed. Since I lost my house in 2003, I've tried to make it in these apartments, but even when I was young and healthy enough to be working full-time and out on the town when I wasn't, I've hated living in apartments and worked towards the day I would have a house. I had viewed the rental as the last step before buying a place of my own, but I was never quite able to get all the pieces together to make that happen. Now it seems so far away, and rentals of houses in Washington County are so expensive as to be out of my budget, that it shall never happen and I will die in a crappy apartment I detest surrounded by noisy neighbors I share so little in common with.
And minus the good foundation of a house I love, I lack the strength to reach out and do much of anything else. I'm so mentally ready to try my hand at fiction, even if it means dealing with the addition of pain in my hands and arms as I now have in my legs and feet. But I will need to be able to concentrate and there are only a few hours during the day when that is even in the realm of possibility, but still there is the speeding car screaming down the road, the horn of the freight train as it moves slowly through Hillsboro, the ever present sirens of the police, fire trucks, and ambulances, and of course, there is always someone who needs to share whatever is on his mind with everyone no matter the hour of the day.
I can paint myself as retired, but I'm not working and am not exactly rolling in cash. That must make me one of the most eligible bachelors this side of the Pacific. Let's see, there are my dashing good looks, my ample figure which owes so little to hours spent in the gyms where today's hip and motivated worship in addition or in stead of the churches I no longer believe in. So even if a potential suitor can get past my poverty, my disability, my middle aged looks, and my unintentionally combative arms and legs as I wait to for sleep to overtake my eager mind, I can only live with another man IF he can qualify for the same housing program I'm on in Washington County.
So the best I could ever hope for is some kind of separate life shared with someone else on a part-time basis. There's no hope for a house and it's clear that my condition is going to continue to deteriorate, So you see, one can't even say "at least you've got your health." There is nothing in my present life that makes putting up with the pain and life's troubles worthwhile any longer. I'm completely tired of fighting with agencies for 'care' and having people with files sticking their beak in telling me how I'm supposed to live. With no one and nothing to live for, it's little wonder that I lay down to sleep a couple nights ago and hoped that I would not wake up again. But clearly, my life rarely works as I would see fit.
This is provided as an attempt to document my current state of mind and little else. Both this entry and the prior have been written and posted as is with no rewrites or edits. Together they describe what has happened to me in the last couple of days. They simply exist as I do.
As I started to relax again, the cops chased someone through the neighborhood with a constant quick bursts on the siren. I'm sure the bursts of sound is better than just running the damn thing, but it seems pretty clear that the perpetrator was unable to hear it. No wonder considering how many play they car stereos so loudly that we are treated to the thumps through the neighborhood all day long. Or maybe this one was jabbering on the phone? But I'd be willing to bet, given the hour of the morning, that they had a few too many.
The pain had decreased substantially, but rolling over the wrong way was still uncomfortable and deep breaths were painful. Sleep was impossible to regain though mostly because my lower body aches from being so tired -- this is a regular part of my disease and not directly the result of the flu attack. As I would relax, the muscle twitches and jerks were much more severe than they have been in a long time. Once while laying on my back, everything but my bum was lifted off the bed. [On a side note, I can't imagine anyone being able to sleep next to me without being physically hurt as I kick and punch though I hope it subsides once sleep takes me. I just don't know.]
Soon it was late enough that it hardly made sense to fall asleep since I'd only have to wake up after a short while to take my morning meds. But by then, I was so tired sleep came fairly quickly and easily. I then slept on and off until something like 4:30pm so that made about 7 hours of deep enough sleep if only the neighbors didn't constantly wake me up. Oh, there was the usual calling from neighbor to neighbor and short chats on the back deck, but that hardly compares with the all day yipping of the dog across the street. [And the apartment owner got upset because my dog barked when he parked in front of my apartment and insisted that I keep him from barking "for my neighbor's benefit". But considering he only barks when they do something...]
But I digress, the worst started up about noon when the screamer started throwing chunks of metal around his backyard. After 45 minutes or so of that the pounding started as he broke and beat the scrap. I thought about getting up and watching TV, but I knew that if it didn't last too long, I would need to go back to sleep. Luckily today there was no screaming tirade. No "fucking nigger, I hate you ass hole" yelled at the top of his lungs. No "goddamn mother fuckers what the fuck are you looking at" shouted at the kids as they walk past his house on the way home. No screaming at the barking dogs which so clearly bark at the noise he makes. And no screaming like a banshee for who knows what reason. So as soon as his attention was taken elsewhere, I was deep in dreamland once again.
It wasn't until 7pm though that I decided I was ready to get up. I figured the dog wanted to go out and do some business and I was feeling a bit hungry -- the first time since Saturday. I mostly feel recovered though I feel pretty run down, but I know that will be cured with a few more nights of good, long sleep. If only the rains would return that might even be guaranteed, but with dry, clear weather the neighbors are encouraged to be out and about and noise carries. It's not that I truly begrudge them their joys, whatever they might be, it's just that I find my own joy in was that seem quite different. Peace and quiet are at the top of my list, especially when I'm recovering from intense, if short lived, illness.
So why not move? Well, I moved here to escape an even worse apartment complex with even more troubling noise issues, if that can be believed. Since I lost my house in 2003, I've tried to make it in these apartments, but even when I was young and healthy enough to be working full-time and out on the town when I wasn't, I've hated living in apartments and worked towards the day I would have a house. I had viewed the rental as the last step before buying a place of my own, but I was never quite able to get all the pieces together to make that happen. Now it seems so far away, and rentals of houses in Washington County are so expensive as to be out of my budget, that it shall never happen and I will die in a crappy apartment I detest surrounded by noisy neighbors I share so little in common with.
And minus the good foundation of a house I love, I lack the strength to reach out and do much of anything else. I'm so mentally ready to try my hand at fiction, even if it means dealing with the addition of pain in my hands and arms as I now have in my legs and feet. But I will need to be able to concentrate and there are only a few hours during the day when that is even in the realm of possibility, but still there is the speeding car screaming down the road, the horn of the freight train as it moves slowly through Hillsboro, the ever present sirens of the police, fire trucks, and ambulances, and of course, there is always someone who needs to share whatever is on his mind with everyone no matter the hour of the day.
I can paint myself as retired, but I'm not working and am not exactly rolling in cash. That must make me one of the most eligible bachelors this side of the Pacific. Let's see, there are my dashing good looks, my ample figure which owes so little to hours spent in the gyms where today's hip and motivated worship in addition or in stead of the churches I no longer believe in. So even if a potential suitor can get past my poverty, my disability, my middle aged looks, and my unintentionally combative arms and legs as I wait to for sleep to overtake my eager mind, I can only live with another man IF he can qualify for the same housing program I'm on in Washington County.
So the best I could ever hope for is some kind of separate life shared with someone else on a part-time basis. There's no hope for a house and it's clear that my condition is going to continue to deteriorate, So you see, one can't even say "at least you've got your health." There is nothing in my present life that makes putting up with the pain and life's troubles worthwhile any longer. I'm completely tired of fighting with agencies for 'care' and having people with files sticking their beak in telling me how I'm supposed to live. With no one and nothing to live for, it's little wonder that I lay down to sleep a couple nights ago and hoped that I would not wake up again. But clearly, my life rarely works as I would see fit.
This is provided as an attempt to document my current state of mind and little else. Both this entry and the prior have been written and posted as is with no rewrites or edits. Together they describe what has happened to me in the last couple of days. They simply exist as I do.
Labels: health
posted by xj at 11:45 PM
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