another dramatic weekend... and some fleeting rest

curled up in a tight ball
cramped
sweating and moaning
nauseous and wondering
is this it? am i finished? will they find me in a few days b/c they will find my rotting corpse on Monday when i don't come into work? no? well then, maybe on Tuesday?
on shaky legs i wavered and i quivered
swaying
holding myself up against the walls and on the ledge of the sink
wanting to vomit
but hating the idea of the awesome pain that would ripple through my abdomen
and my sore back muscles
and biceps and achy shoulders and even my calves and thighs
my uterus kinda hurts too. is this just a bad case of PMS? i think i might die. i really think i might die.

nope. i didn't die. and it wasn't my period--despite the strange way that Auntie Flo's been visiting me lately. maybe she thinks it's time to be inconsistent these days? or maybe it's malnutrition?--though i feel like i've been eating quite well in this dear Motherland of mine.

i spent the 1st 17 hours of this weekend laid out and feeling awful and questioning the meaning of life--given that i had felt almost sure that mine was nearing its end. there are so many things i want to do before i die. there felt like there is so much wasted... everything... time, health, youth, energy, ideas, grandiosity, et cetera.

curled up and weak--gasping at times--my thoughts turned dark as i writhed in my pitiful agonies. i thought a while about those tragedies i've seen and got a bit whiny about it all:
why me? why these things in my life? why did i make those choices? why did i choose knowledge over innocence all of those times?
there are a dozen apples i was warned not to taste, but i still plucked from those trees. they seemed so sumptuous at the time. and i believed that my mind was strong enough not to fall prey to the trappings that so many wiser and stronger people before me had fallen to. ah. well, isn't youth and innocence always wasted on the young and innocent? damnit. now i'm getting contrived.

though i have said and agreed w/ the philosophical theoreticals about how we can regret nothing that's happened to us to date--b/c it makes us who we are today, sometimes i do wish that somethings could be undone. and taken back. and shredded by a machine. and wasted by a nuclear warhead.

i don't want some feelings and some memories and the terrible paths of introspection that they take me down. maybe it's dumb to want that release and possibly lose part of myself, but some of those twisted and damaged parts of myself don't need be preserved, right?--i could stand to lose some of all that, even if it makes me less informed about the world. ugh. all of this is bullshit. it's not like i can change anything about my past choices and trials.
thoughts get a little circular when sweating in the throes of awful, dizzying physical pain.
and, there is something momentarily gratifying about complaining in the muddy pits of regret.

Jesus. why me? why did these painful things happen to me? and then, why did i have to deal w/ my pain and insecurities in such a maladaptive way? how did i get so wrapped up in the chronicities of depression when i was so young? why did i mistrust so badly? then trust so fully? why did i have to be victimized and violated so completely? twice?
fuck.
i need some help here.

i've gotten to where i know my boiling point. where i need to stop myself and breathe and hesitate, then choose a different direction. also, i honestly know that there is a reason for everything and there is much growth that happens in the wake of pain--but damnit. can't some growth be a little easier sometimes?
i guess i'm not giving the good times enough credit. sometimes the trials overshadow the amazing amazingness that just pops up in life.

but curled up into a cramped achy ball feeling like you can hear the no-so-distant patter of Death from down the hall, you start having dark thoughts.
it was rainy and cold this weekend.

though today, i did feel revived by a conversation w/ a friend on a 2 hour commute to church. and there was some refreshment while i listened to P. Eddie and sang some harmonies. i had some good quality time w/ friends and a friend's mom at the flashy Buddha's birthday parade (lots of colors and beauty and music--to be recounted later?). and i saw a perplexing float of Buddha and a young couple in a Mercedes Benz. mysterious. hilarious?

last night, while i stumbled wearily home in the freezing rain--i was craving vitamin C. specifically some sour-sweet strawberries. the cold cold water crawled up my jeans and into my ankle bones as i accidentally splashed into several puddles while gazing any-else-where. i stopped at my favorite little hole-in-the-wall convenience market.
well, it's not my favorite--there is hardly much of anything in this messy-crowded little store, but for some reason, i really like giving the crochety old ajuhshi my business. and i think he knows that i could go anywhere else.
my heart fell when i didn't see any of that coveted seeded red fruit where he keeps his produce. so i just helplessly wandered in and around--looking for something to satiate my craving.
when i put a carton of milk on the counter, i just gave him a crooked smile and asked in my crooked Korean, you don't have any strawberries, do you?
he gave me a curious grin and said, "i'm not selling any".
seeing my overly dramatized crestfallen expression, he chuckled, got up, and went to the back room. i waited, a little confused about what i was supposed to do. he returned w/ a slightly battered carton. "i'm not going to sell these, but just take them if you want them"
oh no! i waved my arms at him, abashed. i took out my wallet, you don't have to give them to me!
"no," he pushed them toward me and then retrained his eyes on the tv behind me, "take them take them. i won't sell them."
oh! i picked them up gratefully and bowed my gratitude. thank you so much, ajuhshi!
he gruffly hrumphed as i skipped back into the cold rain.

food poisoning. pain. love. tragedies. free strawberries.

all right. life ain't too bad.