The Art Of Keeping Pancakes Warm

Pancakes (Photo credit: Creativity+ Timothy K Hamilton)

Emotions often overlap, sometimes they are hard to distinguish, or they are hard to separate, sometimes they coexist, they hold each others hand, their fingers intertwined. Sometimes there’s a base and if not resolved things pile on top of it like a stack of freshly made pancakes, each one giving off heat. The first pancake starts the flow of the heat which rises into the air. Soon, we add another pancake and then another to make a stack; each pancake produces heat adding heat to the bottom, the first  pancake, not taking heat away from it.

Usually its easy for me to figure out what I’m feeling, I generally pride myself on knowing how or what I feel, not that I think it’s a fabulous trait to have because many times it is overwhelming. Recently, In the past few weeks I seem to have lost that trait, I have absolutely no idea how I feel, I don’t feel anything strongly, hate, compassion, appreciation; I don’t feel anything at all. If I feel anything its emptiness in a very cool, detached way, like reading a book of a different culture that I have no interest in whatsoever. I feel like a different person, cool, calm, detached.

This is not me.

If I stayed like this my life would be a million times easier but somewhere, deep in the bottom of my soul, I know, that there is a catalyst waiting to happen, a word or a memory, that will make all my emotions come flooding back. For now, I’m probably resisting it and I can’t lie, it feels like a vacation. A dull, boring vacation in a zombie time zone but for a roller coaster woman like me, I’ll take it. I will jump in with gratitude In one split second because now, I don’t want to analyze it, think about it and most of all, deal with it. If this is a break from dealing with heavy things, I’m in, thank you very much.

We have all gone through love, hate, grief but now I feel numb. I choose numb now because numbness gets me through the days. I am not sobbing on the bed, my cheeks and eyes are not swollen and red, I’m taking a breather.  I know, soon enough, that dam will break and I will probably learn new information that I need to be ready for because once again, if I choose to hear the new information, my life will change forever.

For as long as it lasts, numb will be satisfactory. I know it’s not a steady job, just temporary, a respite from unhappiness and doubt but if happiness and knowledge elude me than I would be honored to take up residency. There’s also: Sad, Mad, Love, Grief, Hate, Happy, Sensitive, Unaware, Raw, Grieving, Disbelief, Guilt, Sorrow, Pain, Game, Delusional, etc….No person is just one thing. We are all complicated beings, we all make mistakes. We are faulty human beings so pick whichever traits you want or have, learn from mistakes and then move on. Do the best you can in the present. Don’t look to the past, don’t worry about the future, your destiny is here with you now, staring you in the face, the sweet smell of pancakes wafting in the air, warm amber-colored maple syrup poured from a white pitcher to enjoy on your pancakes while you contemplate. Treat yourselves well.

Bimbo in Limbo

I am going to start writing and hopefully the rest will come in a timely fashion. Like a soldier,  a robot, a clear cylinder. I feel too tired to write, too tired to read, television is exhausting and eating is a chore.  Whoa. Stop. Who wrote that?  Not the “me” that has fantasized in the past about orange cupcakes or pink coconut snowballs; not the “me” who has a huge collection of brownies and frosted cupcakes downstairs. Untouched. Some other me. Some patient me. Some released patient from the hospital me.  Some impatient patient me. I am dull, I am lifeless. Boring. Not at my best. I feel nothing; I am too tired to feel.

I need to sit down and concentrate in order to eat something. I need to look at the time and actually say, “it’s been five hours since I have eaten, I should get a bite to eat and something to drink. Who am I and how long will this last?  Did I leave part of myself in the hospital room? When will I come home? I did not eat for an entire two weeks because of my intense throat/ epiglottis pain.  All that suffering and misery and I only lost 3 pounds. There’s got to be something so wrong with that but it is true. Is it my thyroid tired and limping along? Post-menopausal, post 50-something, dead batteries?  Not that I really care. Not that I can do anything about it. It just is the way it is, for me. For now, for a while. Whatever.

I am not sick but I am not well, I am not happy nor am I sad. I am just a blob on the bed surrounded by too many blankets and dirty dishes. There’s a bright strawberry jello snack pack at my side and a cart full of different beverages, the jello is the only color in the room. I’m not thirsty but I’m supposed to drink so I don’t get dehydrated. Is  “dehydrated” the new buzz word used often in the last few years? We didn’t get dehydrated when we were kids, playing in the afternoon soon, in the heat, with no sunscreen or baseball caps. Where was dehydration then? Nothing makes sense to me.

The mail is still in the mailbox I haven’t bothered to go out to the street and get it. That would require putting more clothing on and shoes too. Shoes, why bother? It’s cold and wet and raining and everything is gray, not black or white just way too much gray. Everywhere. Endlessly. All rain, all the time. Rain and more rain.

I am The Wizard of Oz before the color kicks in, I am pre- munchkinland, post dead witch. I am flat, one-dimensional, white bread. I don’t listen to music with joy anymore because it hurts my head. I don’t dance for joy because I do not feel joyful. I lack affect.

I am in a state of in between but I don’t know the parameters of either side. Once I’ve fallen over the edge I will know that I have gone too far but for the time being, limbo is my life. I should care about this but I don’t. I should be surprised or concerned at this plastic shell but I am not. I am not shiny and new, I just don’t have the effort inside me to care right about now.

Eventually, something will happen, either good or bad. Until then, I wait, and I try to care but I don’t.