Hammer headache. Sledge, not ordinary toolbox kind. Center of the skull, drill down chakra region. Came right after the breakfast scrambled eggs. Bullet to the brain.
Now 3:40pm. Lying awake in bed, a body ache coma.
This morning. Father asks if I want Sudafed 24. No. Sister asks if I want Ibuprophen. Nooooo, apple cider vinegar, I beg. I hot shower and thump my chest. Chills. Hot. An hour ago I popped the Sudafed.
In my delirium, I think about whether I’ll be able to write today, tomorrow. I think about who’s holding the baby. I think about how tonight is the Loveeachother’s turn to make a meal, and I’ll be sidelined. I think about recovery time.
Kate comes in with tea. I gag and then swallow. Then say if I die please don’t let anyone hold the baby. All I can think about his my mom. Not like her legacy, but like the way that axes down a kid’s developmental tree. I think about war vets who come back after seeing their military brother/s get shot. I wonder if they shake when people hold their firstborn. In the shower I picture a great chasm, and I’m halfway to the bottom. And holding my baby anxiety like a twig, just turning it between my fingers. And all I have to do is hold it over the edge and let go. All I have to do is drop it. I think about New Year’s Resolutions. And how I might give up alcohol. And how I’ll definitely give up sugar. And maybe wear blue. But letting go seems so much harder than all those combined, and yet so easy.
Back in bed, I ask Google to save me. Ask if cold showers work to beat the flu. Only before. Not during. I ask about fasting. No consensus. The baby is in the living room. I can hear her through the walls.
I have a far away elf friend with long white hair. Sent me a video. 45 minutes or something. Got the Facebook message early this morning, pre-bullet. Wtf who sends a 45 minute video? No time for…
Post bullet I paused, rewinded, played it again. And then again. Taking notes.
Basically Gabor Maté's argument is two pronged. First: human suffering emerges when we learn how to distract ourselves from our pain in the present moment. This distraction can be shopping drugs sex work TV exercise whatever. This causes suffering because we’re avoiding the root of the problem, which is trauma.
Second: baby brains are sponges whose neurocircuitry absorbs the emotional landscape around it. Stressed parents, stressed kid. Grow up in a war, develop ADHD later because why? Because you learned at an early age to zone out, as a protective mechanism. This isn’t in the video, but I wonder: is there a connection between day care usage and adolescent ADHD/anxiety/depression? Like the all-important mother attachment is cut and the kid is thrown in a sandbox with a teenage girl who’s on her cell phone? Or caricature aside, a middle-aged woman who’s on her cell phone?
No updates on the jock itch.
People keep asking us if we’re trying to have another kid. Like twice now in two days. Is this some strange circumstance when it’s okay to ask directly about someone’s sex life? Not alone with close friends, but like Christmas Eve at the dinner table. Question gets asked, then the table gets so silent you can hear a damn cashew crunch.
You’ll be informed when she’s pregnant. Or maybe we’ll do the whole wait 12 weeks thing because not all babies make it that far, and it’s a hassle to tell everybody because they make these annoying scrunched up sad faces and you’re like yeah fucking tell me about it. But either way, we’ll do the updating about the frequency of our genitalia gymnastics.
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