I finally made it to the doctor’s yesterday, after one of the most terrifying moments of my life. While working on the laptop, I found myself unable to breathe and squirming from pain. I thought that this was it. I’d stop breathing any time soon and drop dead. I don’t want to drop dead! I’m twenty-one, for fuck’s sake!
But as it turned out, I wasn’t going to drop dead any time soon.
“I can see why you’re in such pain.” said the doctor. It turned out that I’ve got three things going on. One is chronic hyperventilation, which has plagued me for a long time now (and often leaves me feeling like I can’t breathe). Two is a blockage in my left shoulder, which is causing the hyperventilation to flare up. Three is an infected muscle under my left breast, which explains why it’s been acting dodgy.
I can not begin to explain how happy I was. Seriously, I thought I had… well, a lot of stuff at once. Stuff that would be the end of me.
Later that night, I was reading in my room, whilst watching television. The trailer for Doctor Oz (something I watch religiously, to my embarrassment) came on, talking about “HOW YOUR COMMON COLD CAN ACTUALLY BE A DEADLY SUPERBUG” or some shite like that.
I looked around. Thought. And said “Oh fuck it”. I turned off the television and enjoyed the silence while I was reading. Might not seem major, but it was to me. I’d embraced the silence, without being scared of it.
And it did me well. The next three hours were spent reading Monique Roffey’s With the Kisses of His Mouth , a book I had managed to snatch up at Eroticon. I remember meeting Monique briefly. Can’t quite remember what she looked like though.
But that doesn’t really matter. Her book spoke to me, in a way that maybe other similar books couldn’t. I could relate to her, with the way she wrote and with what she told her reader. This was a book about finding yourself, and finding sexuality. It didn’t matter that there’s an age gap of twenty plus years between us. I felt like coming home.
In between reading bouts, I had to put the book down a few times. The silence and the words (I’m all about the words, don’t you know) had made it possible to think clearly, perhaps for the first time in a long time. And I can now say that I have clarity on what I want now.
So, here is a comprehensive bullet-point list, because yes, I’m THAT anal.
- From now on, I want to be referred to as Jillian or Jilly.
- I want to change my religion and become a Pastafarian. Why? Because I can.
- I want to dye my hair in a really funny color, because if not now, when do I ever get to dye my hair pink?
- I need to get myself a smartphone, so I can stop being surgically attached to my laptop and actually speak to Jason.
- I want more peace and quiet.
- If I can manage to find something, I want to move to a quiet place in the UK.
- Failing that, I’d like to retreat to the UK countryside for a few months to write and generally bask in nature.
- I want serenity. Not the film. The actual concept.
- I need to cut down on the blog for a while, and gather my thoughts in another way, namely by taking up writing in a journal again.
- I think I don’t really fancy writing erotica for now. I’m not in the right mindset.
- I want to be able to write like I write in my mind. If that makes sense.
- I want to stop and smell the roses from time to time.
I’m sure there’s more, but that’s about what I can come up with for now. Hey, it’s a pretty impressive list. If you’d asked me this a month ago, I’d pulled major Slowpoke face and flailed in your general direction.
I’m glad I could figure all of this out.
Now, here is a picture of a thing.