D+4: Excuse me, can I dream here?
Vivid dreams again. No opioids in play.
This was an interesting one. I was opening a door, bringing in food (for someone, for myself?) and then I felt like somebody hugged me from behind, almost viloently abducted me and prevented me from going in. I think the subconsciousness is telling me to stop doing what I’m doing and re-opening the same, familiar door. It makes perfect sense to me now.
I still woke up like 6 times at night, but at 4AM I found a position and configuration of my blanket and my support plushie that made me feel safe, comfortable and protected. That is what I needed to find. I will be searching for the same feeling the following nights.
The knee is not causing any pain, clearly I can live and sleep without the opioids. I can now lift and bend the knee a little bit with support, so it’s going the way it should. The stitches are a nuissance that I can’t ignore, so that is going to take a little bit more time, ideally it’s going to be taken out about a week from now.
And that time is being spent exactly like I was hoping for. My brain is processing, mushing through the deep layers of mud and snow that accumulated in there while I was not present. It’s going to be like that for about two more days and then I will be ready to start looking into the future and make plans and plan changes.
It’s intense, deeply uncomfortable, but very much needed and very much worth it. It’s good to wake up with an optimistic smile.
It took me 20 minutes to unpack grocery delivery. There are empty bags EVERYWHERE in the kitchen now. The knee is fine. I’m getting a check up in almost three hours, it takes about 30 minutes to get there. I should start getting dressed soon so I’m not late. Everything takes so much time, we take so many things for granted.
The most crushing realization of today is this: If she wanted, she would have. Everything that she says, all the excuses… They are primarily for her, not for me. She made a decision, long time ago, that I’m not important for her. That’s why she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about how I feel. She never did. Makes sense. Very sad for me.
Where are my pants? How do I get my shoes on? These are the REAL questions of today.
What a ride it was… I took a tram and didn’t faint. I called a cab to get back. First uber bailed on me 500 meters out. Second one got stuck for 10 minutes behind a dozer in the streets. The lady backed out of the alley, that was kind of fun.
The doctor’s check up went fine. Everything looks great, the appointment for the stitches removal is exactly in a week. Until then, not much to do. Gentle exercise, nothing crazy. I need to make some phone calls tomorrow to find myself a physiotherapy clinic. I hate making phone calls. At least I have something to do! I’m not sure if I want things to do though…
My mind is truly in a strange state.
Second (and final) season of Kevin Can F**k Himself got quite depressive. Every character on that show is a piece of shit. They are very human. Caricatures, but human. Very. Satisfying. Last. 10. Minutes.
Richard Hammond’s Workshop - Pure Feel Good. Love these UK shows and Hammond’s goofiness
Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania - That’s a late night, I’m going to start it after this is published and I will most likely fall asleep