i have lots to do today and all manner of distractions everywhere. i stop to take my meds and swallow them with coffee rather than water (mistake) and the coating of the one pill slides across my tongue and just… clings… yuck… ptooey. Disgusting. i can still taste it. Born of that taste and my general morning mood, i’m resentful of the damn pills.
i go get tomorrow’s batch out of their slot and i look at them… and the spray one too… and i try to figure out why i’m so angry about the damn medicine.
They help me live, these little fuckers. Ah, but they cost me money and i don’t like them.
i sit with this for a moment before beginning to type. Suffering… in the buddhist sense of the word. i am suffering. i ask myself the questions… why? what is this thing? is it something i can change? is my angst a result of me wanting it to be something other than what it is?
Control… that is a big part of it. i do not like that i must take medicine in order to function normally. i resent the fact that i must sleep with a machine in order to breathe and not have strokes. This pisses me off… i feel like these health issues are controling me. The very fact that i must “manage” them gives them far too much power in my life.
i cannot change these things. There are no cures. They just are. i can make good choices that will keep me from needing additional medications, though. i can do that. The pills help me function as normally as possible. i will continue to take them. i can choose to resent them or i can choose to have gratitude that they exist and that i can get my hands on them.
Easier said than done… and this diversion of writing about them is not helping me get work done… ironically.
What was i saying? Ah, yes… i need to focus.
One of these little pills… the white one… will help me do that… it will bring clarity and alertness to my narcoleptic brain. At least i’m not sitting on a mushroom with a hookah-smoking caterpillar. There’s that.