I've felt like the picture. Dark, unfocused, cloudy. Everything is so confusing, clouded by constant pain. More tests, more doctors, more drugs. Nothing seems to make a difference. I lie in bed late at night, trying to fall asleep but that is when my brain runs on overtime. The blinds stay closed during the day, the lights off at night. I am so very tired.
My house is a mess, dirty dishes in the sink, dust and spiderwebs everywhere. The garden is ...well, the garden is depressing. I look out my back door and can only see dying pumpkin leaves, hidden behind unplanned saplings that keep growing taller with all the rain that has fallen.
Now you know why I haven't been around. I'm in such a dark mood, so sad and confused. I feel like my life really isn't my own and yet I don't know whose it is. It has been suggested that I need to sell the cottage and move to a townhouse. Someplace where I won't have to worry about yard maintenance, exterior upkeep. I've been fighting that idea for a while now. But lately, I think it makes sense. As much as I don't want to give up my little cottage and my garden, my space. I have to face that I don't have the ability to take care of it and keep it up as it needs.
After weeks of fighting myself back and forth, back and forth, I decided that I should do it. I should move. I've spoken with a realtor about selling the cottage and have even looked at a townhouse. It is small, but in a good location and has a nice fenced in back area with just enough planting space that I could have flowers and maybe a tomato and pepper plant if I wanted. Definitely no room for pumpkins, squash or anything that needs room to roam. I'm waiting to hear from my realtor about what she thinks I could expect to get for my cottage. I was beginning to feel comfortable about my decision. Happy that I'd at least made a decision.
Then last night, lying in the dark - resting after yet another medical procedure - I realized that I don't want to move. I feel like if I do, I'm giving in to my invisible illness. I feel like I'm giving up. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to decide what is best for me. I don't think moving will make me happy. But I don't know that staying will make me happy either.
Just before dark tonight, I heard the wind chimes clanking and stepped out to get the mail. A storm was brewing and it felt so good. I took the time to step out to the back garden, a place I haven't been in almost a week, maybe two. I found several roma tomatoes to pick and an eggplant that looks good. It looks like all the pumpkin plants are failing. Their dried withered leaves reflecting my inner turmoil. I found one small pumpkin, but found that it has been invaded by some sort of borer.
I don't know. I'm sure this post is boring and I had promised myself I wouldn't post things like this anymore. But this is all I know right now. It is all I think about. I have no idea what will happen, if I'll sell or if I'll stay. I just know that this indecision is killing me. You all, out there in bloglandia, are my only real contact with people (other than doctors, nurses and pharmacists). I don't seem to have anyone I can confide in lately. My mum is biased even though she says she only wants the best for me, I know she wants me to move. I've not been able to talk to my friend about it, she is busy with her family and her own life and health issues.
I've been thinking about this post for a couple of days and it was much more elegant and worth reading before I sat down and started typing. But that seems to be par for the course too.
I don't know when I'll be back here, maybe soon, maybe a while. As with all things in my life, I just don't know...