Gentle Reader,
The title says it all.
Actually, it sounds like the title of some modern art piece, the sort that I can never figure out.
The anger came in waves today, in tandem with the nausea. So that was awesome. One of the first things I got angry about today was my husband’s water bottle. There it sat, on the counter, so…ANNOYINGLY. I tell you, the thing was mocking me. (No, I don’t actually believe that. Don’t send the nurses with the straight-jacket). I wanted to hit it and would have enjoyed the sight of water splashing everywhere if I didn’t have to clean it up in the end.
Then there was the paperwork I couldn’t find, the boxes by my desk, the question someone asked. I ate an apple around 11:30 (just to sustain life; the thing tasted like sawdust) and the sound of my own chewing grated on my nerves.
It’s hot. I hate the heat. No lunch for me because eating has become a bad thing. Some people were talking politics.
My husband’s truck was parked in my spot when I got home.
And now the dogs are barking.
I know that I’m not actually angry. My body’s all whacko and that makes me want to scream, but there’s nobody and nothing to be mad at. I want the persistent cramp in my right foot to go away, the headache to stop and for my stomach to stay settled in its proper place. I want a night of decent, dreamless sleep. I want all the chemicals and hormones that are staging mosh pits throughout my body to calm the heck down.
Well, maybe I am mad. But it’s an odd, and certainly irrational, sort of emotion.
All day long the Spirit has been on me to keep my mouth shut, to breathe deeply and to focus on what’s true. He alone kept me from doing and saying things that would be entirely out of character and would have unpleasant consequences. It’s not been a perfect day and I’ve certainly been snappy, but it’s been a day when I’ve been steeped in the awareness of His presence. For that, I am profoundly grateful.
To read all the posts in The Detox Diaries series, go here.