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Tag Archives: personal crisis
where god is
I have suddenly realized that somehow, somewhere, over the last however so many months, I have lost my faith. I used to center it in the altruism of humankind, the ability of my fellow creatures to reach outside themselves and … Continue reading
Posted in Book Two - Mind, Setting 1
Tagged actuallyautistic, Aspergers, autism, faith, god, hope, personal crisis
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not so small
“Trace the exact path of your pain for me.” I sit on a padded exam table facing the neurologist, having passed the slew of tests to determine if the pain and numbness in my hands is due to something in … Continue reading
come to rest
Even before this happened, I was a reluctant inhabitant of my physical body. I railed against its inevitable (if as yet largely imperceptible) decline, the stealthy, inexorable loss of elasticity, pigment, resilience, strength. It felt like punishment, to house a … Continue reading
arranged
Pain and soreness this morning are way up from my usual, and as usual, I don’t know why. I was already on a downward trajectory by Wednesday, but despite taking it easy at physical therapy on Thursday and not having class … Continue reading
the end of the beginning
Lately, I’ve found myself slipping more and more often into that nasty little place where everything is annoying and everyone is a moron. People can be so thoughtless, and my tolerance for it, normally rather generous, has been burned down … Continue reading
fixed
First, I have a lot less pain today. A full day of rest and chair avoidance has presumably been good for me. Second, I am not fixed. fix |fiks| verb [ with obj. ] fixes, fixing, fixed. (1) to mend or repair, … Continue reading
destroyed
Today I woke up at four o’clock in the morning, stiff and hurting. After spending an hour failing to find a comfortable position, I got out of bed. Every muscle surrounding my vacant shoulder blade felt sore and bruised, and the unmistakeable … Continue reading
Posted in Aspect I
Tagged anger, chronic pain, doubt, nerve pain, personal crisis, physical therapy
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if I’m not me then who am I?
Yesterday morning, I caught a glimpse of myself in a sliding glass door. I couldn’t see my shoulders or face, just my shorts and legs, and for a brief moment, I didn’t recognize the legs as belonging to me. They … Continue reading