Love needs energy. Does a demented, catatonic or completely paralysed person have the ability to love?
I used to be more able. But I have spent it. On those worthy and unworthy of love alike. I am spent. I feel extremely tired, inside and out, it is indescribable.
I have little energy left. I feel dry like a pore squeezed out of all its sebum, leaving behind only a gaping hole which merely gapes more over time and age. Or an ox-bow lake, cut off, deadened and eventually dried out, leaving behind stones and dead plants. How is a person like me capable of giving sacrificial love anymore? I can hardly take care of myself. I am no longer an independent working gal who has her own apartment she upkeeps beautifully. I am an out-patient living off my parents.
What I need is a full-time nurse like Mom is to me. Who will take care of me when my parents go? My thoughts turn to insurance: my medical insurance does not cover psychiatric health (how archaic!) and I need to plan for my life after my parents pass on. I need to set aside money for my medical fees, and perhaps fees for a sanatorium I can live in for the rest of my life. Because, I suspect I will be ill for a long, long time. My doctor may say one year. It has been three months, a quarter of the way so far, so soon, yet I am so far behind. I hope the curve increases at an increasing rate, somewhere.
Not only does medical insurance not cover my sickness, there is also no such thing as government welfare in this country. When my parents die, I will have no where to go. Stories where one best friend or lover cares for the other unto death, only happen in fictitious drama serials and films. Such will never happen to me or in real life anywhere. So I will die, alone, eventually. It is almost funny when I think about Bridget Jones saying the same thing, dead alone in an apartment half-eaten by Alsatians. But it can almost be true.
I am not only incapable of love, I am incapable of errands, chores, work, thinking. I am thankful I can still form sentences like this, I can never be sure this ability of mine will go one day or not. Just like my ability to work, and to love. These have gone.
Who will bring me to see the doctor tomorrow, and pay for the cab there? Mom.
One day I will have no money to go to see the doctor anymore.
I pray your mind is stronger than your physical ills and you can will it all away.
ReplyDeleteI have lived twice as long as you but the mental anguish is reminiscent.
Remember in one of Haruki Murakami's books one of his characters was weak and just had to rest to recuperate? I think it was the book that had the woman with the limp, the bad leg. What book was that?
It is just wrong that someone as young and beautiful as you is in such a sad state. Of course you can love! It seems like you have in the past and it can happen again.
And I am someone who just stumbled upon your website. That is how love is. It just happens. But don't stop believing in it. I thought when I was your age I was gonna die by 27. I am 56 and don't know how it happened but somehow I am still alive.
I am sending you a big mental hug which is what my best friend sends me when I need some love.