September 14, 2010


I feel like an ant who comes across an ant lion trap.
For the last few weeks I've been feeling fine. No real signs of the Mad Sow, exercising like a crazy thing, doing aerobics and strengthening and able to walk and hike and carry heavy things and balance and move and filled with energy and light. Carrying and toting and sending kids off with furniture and stuff I helped load into vans, helped take off vans. I am busy with my daily endeavours, running here and there and doing important ant-like activities. I'm cheerful, glowing, stimulated and stimulating.

Suddenly I notice the sands slipping around me. It becomes harder to exercise - my balance is off - I start to risk falling as I step into aerobics. I find volunteer things seem too difficult to continue with -my brain won't take on new information. I stop eating so healthily because it's too tiring to even think of food preparation. I get tireder.

Last night, needle sharp pains start in my eyes.  I drive my car against the side of a building when I do a drive-through for coffee. I go out for lunch and am overwhelmed with the noise and chatter and can't quite make my head work properly.  After lunch, I am entirely wiped out, stagger home and crash into bed, too exhausted to move, lying flat and unconscious for two full hours. Now I'm awake, but shivering like I have the flu. I am slipping down, like the ant in an ant lion den, grains of sand slipping under my feet.

Like the ant, I'm going to pretend the jaws aren't at the bottom of the hill. I'm going to keep scraping at the sand grains, hoping to pull myself out of the trap. I'm going to rest tonight, eat healthy things, look after myself with green tea and cuddly blankets and send myself back to bed early. And hope, hope, hope the edge of the pit is closer than it looks.

But there is something nasty waiting at the bottom of the pit.

I like the healthy ant me. I don't want the illness to take me again. I don't. I don't.

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