February 25, 2024: my toe is throbbing tonight, like it’s in rhythm with my heartbeat. What’s worse is the Tylenol 3 seems to be doing nothing to numb the pain, although I’m not sure I took any earlier today. So I took a couple of extra strength Tylenol just now and an antihistamine as I feel my skin itching beneath my right armpit. It’s time to wash my bedsheets tomorrow, or maybe I should do it now.
I stretch out my feet, and feel the pain rolling through my left foot and up my leg like waves lapping against the shore. There’s no new blood on my feet, so I take that as a good sign but still the throbbing sensation is driving me mad. The nurse on Wednesday said I’d be getting information on Friday about seeing a specialist but Friday came and went without any information being received. Just my wound receiving fresh bandages.
The last two nights, I’ve been trying to meditate but my mind has been all over the map. It’s been hard to detach myself from the random thoughts. The loneliness persists. Ten years of loneliness persists, smelling like the dust that blankets the rooms of my house, and soul. I was at my place for a few hours Saturday, moving through the unorganized clutter, remembering how it used to not feel so empty. I remember making Jessie breakfast, I remember making love with her in my bed, but I also remember the distance between us, and the psychological blocks I felt that left that love making nothing more than a dream. I remember Jennifer, Rita, Roberto, Shannon and others visiting, filling the emptiness, breathing life into the now dead plants that inhabit this grave of a hopeless feeling. I miss making art. I miss making art with Jess.
I think of my friend who cut me off last year, the $1,700 she owes me, how she moved in with a new guy the same week she left a purportedly abusive relationship. I think about how the man she left is in a new relationship too, and I wonder how it’s so easy for some, but so impossible for me. Am I really so repulsive?
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