I am ashamed of myself. For the last few months I've accomplished almost nothing - moved, yes, filled out disability forms, yes, but haven't written much, have been negligent about my diet, haven't exercised enough.
Life lived on you tube is not enough, and I am ashamed.
Mind you, I have met a wonderful fellah, have travelled to Cape Breton, have signed up for a series of plays, caught up with some old friends, submitted a novella and a short story/essay, so it hasn't all been for naught. And I've coped with various changes in my condition, from leg spasms to total visual disturbances to more.
Still I have the sense of time washing by like a river and me becoming more and more uninteresting right along with it.
But today, things change. I've signed up for a physical activity study from the University of Oregon that promises to encourage me to get moving again. I've signed up for two on-line classes - one in editing and one in technical writing. And I've joined my young niece in Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing month) in an attempt to pull together a novel over the month of November.
I suspect my worst deadly sin, beyond gluttony and lust (two of my other favorites) is sloth. It is all too tempting, especially with the fatigue associated with this damn illness, to slump into inactivity of body and mind. Right now, for example, I just got up, and yet I can feel the pull of bed, easing me back toward the horizontal. I am soooooo tired. I suspect it is because my body dances on without me at night, spasming and twisting - when I wake (which I do frequently these days), the bed is all scattered and the comforter has twisted around so the opening is at my face. Pillows are all over the place.
I sleep better with someone with me, oddly, as this is new for me. Another body in the bed seems to control my movements a bit, or keep me from falling into the deep sleep that leads to the dancing. Or maybe it's the physical activity that often ensues that makes me rest better. Who knows?
All things considered, I am trying to think of today as a new beginning, trying to ignore the pains in my body, the fact I can't see all that well today out of my left eye, the fact that my neck is complaining, the greying skies of pending November. Life is fairly good, all in all, and the exciting new projects entice me.