Maybe talking to the wall is the thing to do. Not so long ago I often used to be juggling two or three IM windows of conversations, while posting on a bulletin board or actively participating in a chat room. My email box was daily into double digits of
genuine emails from real people with something to say.
Somehow my world has closed in on its self. There are almost no emails arriving despite the numerous ones sent out to family, friends and acquaintances, there are no IM conversations and the postings on bulletins have all but ceased. Since finishing work and being ensconced at home my conversation skills and topics have diminished as has my zeal for public interaction. So many of my conversations, or mails seem to have me talking in the past tense, “When I went sailing to ….”, “When I was working at …”, “When I used to …..”, etc. I feel like a piece of clockwork mechanism whose springs are slacking that even when they are fully wound the energy lasts but a moment.
The body is weakening and taking the spirit down with it. The hobby interests are fading, I have not picked up a needle to cross stitch this year, and that is unusual. The computer and internet fails to hold my attention for long, same with television. At the core of all this is my muscular dystrophy, that foisted upon unwanted debilitating muscle wasting condition that means even sitting here and typing is causing numbness, strain and discomfort. My erratic sleep pattern has placed me in the ‘no sleeping’ phase and added a headache for good measure, or maybe it is the seagulls squawking that is the cause of that. I don’t know.
I’d really like a holiday, but holidays are little relief and generally add more difficulties with my specific needs. Maybe some resort could offer chemically induced coma’s, book in for three days and zonk out.
Hey ho, such is life. I love the friends who do take the time to keep in touch with me, at least there is someone out there beyond my front door who acknowledges my existence.