A Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (Blog #858)

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Fifteen minutes after writing last night’s blog, in which I stated that I felt woozy, I promptly threw up. A lot. Thank God I made it to the commode. The body really is phenomenal. A true wonder. For a solid minute I wretched up my breakfast, my dinner, and a midnight snack. It was fascinating. I could feel my stomach acid burning my throat. Still, it’s funny the things you think about during the most disgusting and nauseating moments of your life. All the things that can run through your mind. Leaned over the toilet with both my knees on the cold tile, I thought, I sure am glad I didn’t get sick like this eight months ago when my leg was in a brace.

I mean, that would have been awkward, trying to get down on the floor and vomiting with a bum knee. Awkward and messy.

Now it’s almost twenty-four hours later, and I haven’t thrown up since. Phew. That being said, I’ve felt like crap all day. Not miserably awful, but nonetheless gross–tired, worn out, a bit lightheaded. My dad went to the grocery store this morning and got me bananas, rice, applesauce, and yogurt. In addition to one piece of toast, this is all I’ve eaten all day. This afternoon I watched a movie in which one of the characters folded a pizza in half and stuck it in his mouth, and my stomach rolled over. That’s one of the funny things about feeling sick. Nothing sounds good. It’s hard to imagine ever feeling well again.

Or is that just me?

One positive to not feeling well is that it’s given me a chance (an excuse?) to do nothing. Or rather, to lie in bed all day and watch television and movies. To take a nap. This afternoon I watched four episodes of the old television show Soap. Then I watched the classic movie Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. It’s fabulous. If you’ve never seen it, I’m just going to say this one thing. Young Paul Newman. Anyway, then I watched a newer movie, Green Book, which is based on a true story, is set in the 1960s, and is about an uneducated white guy (thug) who’s hired to be the chauffeur for a African American concert pianist during his tour of the south. This was also fabulous. I cried.

As much as I’m enjoying watching movies–and oh, this evening I watched a bunch of standup comedy on the YouTubes–I’m really hoping my body will rally and feel better tomorrow. I’m thinking it was something I ate. Maybe a “little” twenty-four hour virus. Regardless, I have shit to do. Better said, I have shit I think I have to do. Because the truth is, there’s nothing we have to do. I could die tonight (don’t worry, Mom, I’m not planning on it), and somehow the world would move on. I think this is one of the benefits to being sick. It helps put things in perspective. Like, What’s really important, here? Why do I have to get sick before I’ll give myself permission to binge watch movies–something I enjoy?

Recently I heard that if you’re hung up on being productive (check), perfect (check), or pleasing to other people (formerly check), it’s because at some point in your life you got the message that in order to have VALUE you had to be these things. Said another way, the only way for you to SURVIVE was to–produce, not mess up, be nice, not show your emotions–fill in the blank. Seen from this perspective, psychological idiosyncrasies aren’t to be shamed, but rather are to be thanked–they helped us get by when were children. That being said, most of us take thoughts and patterns of behavior that worked when we were younger and continue to apply them throughout our entire lives. Ugh. I look at my nine-year-old nephew. He’s cute and all, but would I want HIS thinking, HIS logic calling the shots in my life?

Hell, no.

This is why I think it’s vitally important to update your mental and emotional software as you get older. Read self-help books. Go to therapy. Develop a spiritual practice. Do anything and everything you can to question both what you were taught and what you have come to believe. If something still works for you, fine, keep it. But if any thought, any behavior causes you pain, consider that there might be a better way. Sometimes I push myself so much to learn more, do more, it’s terrible. “I feel like a cat on a hot tin roof.” My body suffers. And so I continue to work through The Process and continue to walk The Path. I think, How can we be kinder to ourselves? How can we be gentler, sweetheart?

Let’s come down off this hot roof.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"I believe we're all courageous, and I believe that no one is alone."

On Life and Spoiler Alerts (Blog #738)

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Currently it’s two-forty-five in the morning, and my stomach and brain are empty. My heart, however, is full, as I’ve spent the entire day in the company of good friends. This evening I had dinner with my friends and former roommates Justin and Ashley, and Justin and talked until well past one in the morning. (Compared to our average chats, tonight’s discourse was rather short.) And whereas I’m tired now, I’m grateful for all the benefits that a deep-and-wide, open and honest friendship provides, to be able to sit in the company of another human and not feel judged, to never feel as if you’re going to be discovered a fraud. That is, to be accepted for who you are.

At one point tonight Justin talked about something that happened when we were both in college, well over fifteen years ago. Honestly, I’d forgotten the incident, although it sounded vaguely familiar. I didn’t say it out loud, but I thought, God, that feels like forever ago. Like it happened to two other people. Maybe it did. Justin and I navel-gaze about this sort of thing a lot, the idea that we’ve both grown as people and aren’t the same as we used to be–either as individuals or as friends. Although we currently contain our former selves–there are similarities–we aren’t them. Each of us has–what’s the word?–evolved.

I’ve been thinking about this idea of evolving lately, about growth. Personally, I’ve experienced a lot of growth of the last five years (from therapy) and the last two years (from this blog). I imagine some of it is obvious to others, and some of it isn’t. What’s important is that I know I’ve grown. (Or that you know you’ve grown if you have.) At the same time, I’ve become keenly aware lately how important it is to consciously give other people in our lives latitude to grow or evolve. I told my dad this morning that I NEVER thought I’d see him join a gym. But two months ago he did, and he’s been more consistent about going than I have. So I was in the wrong–to make assumptions and judgments, to think that life nudges me toward positive change but doesn’t do the same for others.

This afternoon I met my friend Frank for cookies and a soda at Subway in Alma. Frank’s from Tulsa and was just passing through. Over a year ago Frank gave me a Zac Efron calendar (I have a very benign, very innocent celebrity crush on Zac Efron), so last week when he (Frank, not Zac Efron) said he’d gotten me a belated birthday present, I couldn’t wait to find out what it was. “If you want, I can hold it until your next birthday,” Frank said. “Oh no,” I said, “I could be dead by then.” There’s no time like the present for the present. Anyway, once again, Frank knocked the gift giving out of the park. Y’all, he gave me a giant rainbow-colored fleece blanket that says (in big, bold letters)–BORN THIS GAY.

My thoughts–Accurate, although I have had time to get better at it.

This reminds me of a Billy Crystal line I recently heard on the old television show Soap. Crystal’s character Jodie is asked, “Are you a practicing homosexual?” and says, “I don’t have to practice. I’m very good at it.”

Just before writing tonight’s blog, I read that the spiritual path (or personal growth path, if you prefer) is FILLED with uncertainty, that as we live honest, authentic lives, we actually INCREASE the amount of uncertainty if our lives. Eeek. Talk about scary. That being said, I know that nearly every good thing that’s come into my life hasn’t been planned for–my friendships with Justin and Frank, for example. Rather, one fine day certain beautiful people showed up in my life the same way one fine day my dad decided to go the gym or I received a belated birthday gift. Surprise! Nobody ever shows up and says, “We’re going to be thick as thieves in twenty years.” They don’t know, and you don’t know either. We never know anything for sure. Life doesn’t offer spoiler alerts. Still, it seems to work out. More and more, I’m learning to trust that it always will.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Stop buying your own bullshit.

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Despite the Plague (Blog #722)

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Last night, before my dad and I went to the gym, I wrote about how my friend Marla said I was “very loyal” to this blog and how the worst thing a person could do would be tie me up in a room and keep me from posting for a day. I said, “NOOOOOO.” Then, for the first time since starting this blog almost two years ago, I forgot to hit “publish.” Ironic, I know. This morning Marla wrote and said, “I can’t find yesterday’s blog. Did someone kidnap you?” Thankfully, I told her, no. And I did write. I just spaced out and forgot to share it.

But I did share it this morning, and here it is.

For the last three weeks, I’ve had an off-and-on sinus infection. A couple days ago, I felt like a million bucks and was sure I had it beat. But then this morning I woke up full-blown sick with all the mucus. (And I didn’t even eat dairy yesterday.) Despite all my tricks and potions, I’ve continued to feel sick all day–tired, gross, disgusting. Additionally, my head hurts. It’s like the skin around my skull has shrunk, is shrinking. I’m doing my best not to whine here. These are just the facts.

Excuse me while I hack up a lung.

Despite The Plague, it’s been a pleasant day. Like, no one has died (that I know of). Actually, this morning my mom got some good news about her heart. A recent echocardiogram showed a potential problem, but today she found out it was “moderate” and not “severe.” As I understand it, this means medication and not surgery. So that’s good. Then this afternoon I did some writing research, which was fun, and my family and I went out to Western Sizzlin’ (giddy up), which was tasty. Then I took a nap and watched several episodes of Soap, an old sitcom I’ve been into lately that starred Katherine Helmond and Billy Crystal. Crystal’s role, Jodie Dallas, was television’s first openly gay character. Anyway, I laughed out loud tonight when one of the characters, Burt, a real ham, stuck his hand directly in a chocolate cake because he thought there might be a bomb in it. Perhaps you would have had to have been there. But my point is–you can be sick without being miserable.

Not that this is an easy thing to do. All day, when I haven’t been distracted, I’ve been worried that this sinus infection will never go away. That all the things I’ve been doing have just pissed it off and that it will never get better. Today my aunt said, “Have you tried a neti pot?” Oh my god, have I tried a neti pot! A thousand times I’ve tried a neti pot. This is the deal when I’m sick. It feels like I’ve TRIED EVERYTHING and that NOTHING WORKS. Of course, I know this isn’t true. After all, this is a big world with lots of solutions, and I’ve stumbled across some wonders before. So we’ll see what happens. My current plan is to give myself the weekend to be sick and gross. If I don’t improve, I can come up with a plan next week. I’m telling myself–

You don’t have to mount a defense this very instant.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Just as there’s day and night literally, there’s also day and night emotionally. Like the sun, one minute we’re up, the next minute we’re down. Our perspectives change constantly. There’s nothing wrong with this. The constellations get turned around once a day, so why can’t you and I? Under heaven, there’s room enough for everything–the sun, the moon and stars, and all our emotions. Yes, the universe–our home–is large enough to hold every bit of us.

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