The combination of medications I take for depression and chronic pain often play merry hell with my mind, if I forget to pay attention for a moment. And it doesn’t take much to distract me.
Like yesterday, when the little bits of falling frozen stuff turned into a proper hail storm.
Naturally, I had to leap up and run around with the camera.
What exactly, is so extraordinary about a hailstorm?
The wildlife weren’t best pleased about it. Zoomer, the chipmunk, shot off in a hurry.
“Oy!” they said, collectively, “what’s this!” It looked a bit like tiny mothballs.
It was later, though, that I felt a boringly familiar sensation creeping in.
A week or so ago, I saw a reference to this book and as it’s about a place I am very fond of, I decided to send for it.
I’ve not got very far yet, but I was hooked on the first page, and, as usual, I had to find out about the author.
Inside the back cover it told me that he had died in March, 1989 and I immediately got a lump in my throat.
After reading a few more details on the Internet, a tear ran down my face.
I did not know this man. Tears?
Because what I had read in so few pages is so beautiful. It touched my soul. I was so sad that he left us so soon.
A kindred soul, perhaps, but still….tears?
Not too long after, I took myself to bed where usually I write, or draw, or read some more, listening to my latest favourite music….I know, I know…maybe not what is recommended, but it normally works for me.
Yesterday I had changed my bed linen and in putting it back, I left Colin’s “sex fleece” on the bedside table.
In due course, the boy came in and jumped on the bed, casting his eyes about. “Where is it?” he was thinking.
He spotted it, wound into a bed, on the night stand and climbed in, but Colin is a little large and he soon gave up and went off with a “harrumph”.
As he meandered out the door I watched his tail, that he carries aloft like a flag pole, disappear and I thought: “Aw. Poor Colin.” Again, the little lump in my throat…because my cat was frustrated???? WHAT?
Today I caught myself wondering if I should put the fleece back on my bed and I asked myself: “Seriously. You are worried about a cat’s sex toys?”
Next I’ll be putting a red light over my door and a sign “Sex Palace”. The girls are already threatening to move out.
This is the kind of inane super-sensitivity, out-of-control-sentimentality, I don’t even know what to call it, that happens to me when the balance of my meds is a tiny bit off.
It’s a little disconcerting but I’ll get a grip….probably…