I slept for four hours when I came home from work. Staying awake just wasn't something I could face anymore. There's nobody I can talk to, so I'm trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Several people have made it plain they don't want my company, and they damn well don't want to be bothered with listening to me, so I'm taking the necessary steps to give them what they want. My absence.
Sleeping is better anyway. My pain doesn't follow me there yet, and the worst I've had to deal with lately in my dreams were the knife-teethed vengeful spirits someone asked me to drive out of their new apartment. In my dream, it had become overdone for certain people to get lots of attention by claiming they lived in haunted houses and then hiring ghost hunters to clear the spirits out. I thought the whole thing was bs, so I did a little air-clearing routine I know of with sage leaves, which made the occupants happy.
Except that when I walked past a mirrored closet door, I could see these angry specters reaching for me and I could feel those razor sharp teeth biting into my back and shoulders.
What everyone actually disbelieved was actually there, with the intent to kill me. They had big hollow eye sockets. I remember that I calmly stepped away from the mirrors and I woke up, unafraid.
It's a metaphor, of course. The ghosts may be people I know are talking about me and backbiting me all the time. They might also indicate that I feel trapped in my life, mirror that it is, watching others actually be alive. Maybe it's a warning not to give in to the bad thoughts I've had swirling around me for a while now, like a whirlpool with a monster at the bottom.
Whatever the case, I don't feel like I'm really here anymore. Like one of those ghosts.
I had to stop my running again because each day since Saturday's 5k, the edema in my legs has gotten worse. My foot is too bruised to wear running shoes without passive pain just from the instep sitting on top. (A stoneware pan fell on it and nearly broke my big toe.) My hip still hurts and I'm fighting to walk straight.
But who cares, anyway?
My family knew I was going to be in a race right here in town.... I wished just one of them had come for me. I got that lonely feeling like I did last year when I was dropped off at my doorstep after surgery, and left alone but for one visit the day after.
I happened to be out of it on pain meds at the time, because I took too much too soon. I couldn't help that -- I was on pain meds already when I misdosed myself. It could have gotten really interesting.