In Robert Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land, one of the characters knows some sort of Martian (literally, he's from Mars) technique to twist things at a 90-degree angle to normal 3D space, along some fourth dimension, which makes them slide out of normal space and disappear. Forever.
I feel like I'm slowly sliding along that mysterious out-of-normal-space line, gradually becoming further removed from everything.
Driving is becoming a little too challenging... I feel like I'm not present enough to pay proper attention to the world, much less the road. I've stopped listening to the radio, to music, to anything, because I feel like I'm barely paying enough attention as it is. I don't think I'm so disconnected that I'm a danger to myself or others, but it's feeling like it's getting mighty close...
It is, of course, also painful, the constant pressure on the sole of my right foot, the constant tension required to keep the right pressure on the pedal. And oh yeah, every once and a while I lose track of where precisely the brake pedal is. Trust me, nowadays I leave a lot of room between me and the next car. It hasn't been an issue... yet... but I'm doing my best to make sure that if it becomes an issue, it doesn't become an issue, if you get my drift.
I'm not depressed--I've been clinically depressed, I know what it feels like. But I don't have any real interest in anything. I'd feel bad about it, if I cared about anything. Which I don't. It's gotta be annoyingly challenging for my wife... "Dear, what do you want for dinner?" "I don't know... " "What about Thai?" "I'm not sure I'm really hungry for anything... " Of course, it doesn't help that the MS has kinda put the kibosh on hunger pains in general, but I used to like eating, even when I wasn't hungry. Now... I don't really care.
Now, I just checked out the studio, it was just repainted today, it's a lovely yellow; and just standing in the room, I felt better. The sparkly light I talked about in an earlier post made me feel better. I'm hoping that once everything is completed in the studio, maybe I'll find some enjoyment in life again.
Acupuncturing tomorrow. Maybe that'll help too... I am totally, 100% convinced that long-term, that's the only way to go, and that long-term, it's making a tremendous difference. Short term, at least as far as "enjoying being alive," it hasn't quite hit the mark yet (at least, not that I can tell). Usually, it does; usually, it works like a charm. Nothing seems to work, recently. Nothing. But, as my Qi Gong doctor calls me, I'm trying to be a "patient patient."
As my wife said once, "Well, you've had the relapse... I'm waiting for the remitting part."
So am I.