Saturday, December 29, 2012
Today my life was uncluttered enough that I peed and saw how I wanted to curl up into a ball and die afterwards because of the pain.
Life is usually more distracting. You pee and then you have something to do or think. I guess I had things to do or think after this particular trip to the toilet, but I had nothing that needed to be done or thought.
I think I am out of touch with my emotions. I am an INTP according to Myers-Briggs, which means I think, and I spend a lot of time thinking, and in my head I'm always thinking. Extended analyses of my personality type always tell me that I have no idea what I'm feeling. My usual response is, "I don't see how that's relevant."
So I found myself curled up in bed under the quilt, and the inside of my body looked like ash. To an INTP, this means, "I've got to remember to take the kielbasa out of the oven."
I wrote the whole rest of this post in fragments and got to the last paragraph and wrote that, thereby yadda-yaddaing all the emotional stuff, mostly because I couldn't come up with any more jokes. And I don't know that I can tell the difference between expressing this emotion now versus all the other stuff I've said on my blog that seemed easier.
If you dropped someone into my body and they went pee, they would go to the emergency room. I don't understand how I do it and I don't like to think about it.
I feel like I need a thesaurus. "Terrified" is a great word but it doesn't work when you already know that peeing hurts without further consequence. I've read about post-traumatic stress resulting from chronic pain. Maybe I am post-traumatically re-stressed, but that is just me making a joke again.
But so what? Can't I feel terrified if I feel terrified? Okay, I am terrified.
And it's exhausting. Like, I pee multiple times a day! But there's nothing I can do, and I don't even know why I'm terrified. Is it just that the pain is so bad? I check the kielbasa and the slavish under-animal that lives on my back keeps its eyes wide.
Without metaphor? I won't let myself feel terrified. That's a good thing? Not when you are curled up in bed and the inside of your body looks like ash* and you're not doing anything but you don't know why.
But I will say this for INTP: our rational nature is how I can blog about my vulva in the first place. It is illogical to be scared of sharing my story, and it is of more value to the world to share it than it is of value to me to keep my privacy.
*This is synesthesia, so it's technically not metaphor. Says the ever-discerning INTP.