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psalm_onethirtyoneOmg. A post that's not about being sick!
Because, even though I am definitely still sick, and losing my voice besides, I actually got out of bed and did things instead of feeling sorry for myself all day!
...Where by things I mean homework and spending three hours at Unity House working on the Pinwheels for Peace project, but that's okay. It was really nice. Toria and Andy and Stephen and I sat around and cut out a million and a half pinwheels that people had coloured during the week, and put them together, and to-morrow Toria and Andy are going to line the main walk on campus with them for International Day of Peace. It's going to be really, really pretty, and I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm going to go around and photograph all of the ones I did, because I'm obnoxious like that.
Also I spent two hours sitting at the very corner of the Sunderland quad with Erin and Liz talking about sexuality and invisible illnesses (Liz has some sort of disastrous arthritis-like condition and Erin and I have mental illnesses). There is something these experiences when you just create or discuss or explode with language that feels very grown-up at the same time it feels very naive and unlike the world.
Half an hour ago Kat and Katie and Sarah kidnapped me and drove us to Sheetz, which I normally boycott, and they bought ice cream and Sarah got jelly beans and I got Gatorade and a cup of noodly hot soup, which my throat is very happy about. It was completely impulsive and I was in my pajamas.
The good thing about being sick is that I literally have had no time to be depressed. I don't mean to imply that you can be nondepressed by staying busy--I hate when people say that--but my head has been filled with this unending mantra of 'oh god I hate being sick' and it's driven everything else out. I haven't wanted to self-injure since this started. I haven't had that feeling of being wrapped up in concrete. I don't know, maybe when your body is fighting so hard to push off sickness, when everything is being directed towards that one goal, there's nothing to spare for anything else. I am just making things up, of course.
My arm is covered with blue and red and gold paint from Stephen's paint pens, which I was using to make pinwheels. I am hoping to wake up to-morrow without a fever.
Because, even though I am definitely still sick, and losing my voice besides, I actually got out of bed and did things instead of feeling sorry for myself all day!
...Where by things I mean homework and spending three hours at Unity House working on the Pinwheels for Peace project, but that's okay. It was really nice. Toria and Andy and Stephen and I sat around and cut out a million and a half pinwheels that people had coloured during the week, and put them together, and to-morrow Toria and Andy are going to line the main walk on campus with them for International Day of Peace. It's going to be really, really pretty, and I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm going to go around and photograph all of the ones I did, because I'm obnoxious like that.
Also I spent two hours sitting at the very corner of the Sunderland quad with Erin and Liz talking about sexuality and invisible illnesses (Liz has some sort of disastrous arthritis-like condition and Erin and I have mental illnesses). There is something these experiences when you just create or discuss or explode with language that feels very grown-up at the same time it feels very naive and unlike the world.
Half an hour ago Kat and Katie and Sarah kidnapped me and drove us to Sheetz, which I normally boycott, and they bought ice cream and Sarah got jelly beans and I got Gatorade and a cup of noodly hot soup, which my throat is very happy about. It was completely impulsive and I was in my pajamas.
The good thing about being sick is that I literally have had no time to be depressed. I don't mean to imply that you can be nondepressed by staying busy--I hate when people say that--but my head has been filled with this unending mantra of 'oh god I hate being sick' and it's driven everything else out. I haven't wanted to self-injure since this started. I haven't had that feeling of being wrapped up in concrete. I don't know, maybe when your body is fighting so hard to push off sickness, when everything is being directed towards that one goal, there's nothing to spare for anything else. I am just making things up, of course.
My arm is covered with blue and red and gold paint from Stephen's paint pens, which I was using to make pinwheels. I am hoping to wake up to-morrow without a fever.
