brightlotusmoon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
brightlotusmoon) wrote2009-01-26 08:45 pm
brightlotusmoon) wrote2009-01-26 08:45 pm
Entry tags:
What If... The Other.
I am still analyzing the emotional breakdown on Saturday night. I analyze too often.
Ten hours after the chiropractor had worked on my back, I took my Trileptal, and then I took a Soma to stop an oncoming fibro flare. A short time later, as the effects of the Trileptal and then the Soma hit right behind the effects of the chiropractic treatment, I broke down. It was... odd. I was thrust into a different body, a different reality. Other Joanna was not disabled. Other Joanna had loose, relaxed muscles and no pain and could move in a way I never could. Other Joanna, in her other reality, had the power and strength to jog a mile, strength train easily, ride a bicycle up and down hills, run through dozens of forms of yoga -- I could feel all this. I knew all this with a scary intuition.
But in my own body, my own reality, I couldn't articulate it. Too intense. Too overwhelming. All I could do was cry. I cried until I began to scream, or I tried to scream. The kind of scream that happens when you cry and cannot draw breath to scream, so you scream with your breath and it is nearly silent, like a dream. Tears flowing down my face, my face contorting and my words spilling out in sobbing heaves: "Oh gods, oh my gods what is this, what is this, why am I not in pain, why am I not tense, Adam what is this? What's happening?"
Adam pulled me with him to the floor and held me against him. I sobbed into his chest, my tears soaking his shirt. Occasionally I would sit up and shake and stare at my hands with a kind of joy and wonder that felt exactly like horror, because my left hand was perfect, the fingers were loose and free and strong.
That was what it felt like. A sense of ecstasy, joy, triumph, and incredulity that rode the exact same chemicals and emotions that might spawn horror and fear and shock. This was not me. This was not my body. This was a woman who was not in chronic pain, not constantly tensed and spastic. I did not know who this was. But I was in her body, or she was in mine.
One would think that I would immediately want to jump up and dance, or run, or do things that a person with this body might do, but I felt paralyzed. I was still attempting to figure it out. Neurons, muscles, tendons, chemicals, nerves, skin... what was it? Why was it? How did it? How long before it all disappeared?
After a few hours, maybe three or four, it began to fade. I came back to my body, my reality, my normal. I did not regret or mourn. This, being in pain and tension, this was normal, this was all right. The Other Joanna was far off, watching, behind the shimmering psychic wall of my imagination. I imagined I would be her in my dreams.
Perhaps I had experienced this every time I took the Soma and the chiropractic treatment released something more, alongside the stronger Trileptal dose. I don't know. It was intense, but not something I am begging to repeat consistently. That would destroy the effects.
A person ignorant of my mind and sensibilities and life might ask me why I would not want to take the Soma more often, if a chiropractic treatment could bizarrely enhance its effects. I wish I could explain. A prescription drug would not do anything but relieve my symptoms for a few hours, and blaze a trail in my memory of how I want my body to be. I could take the drug twice a week and then spend the rest of that week trying to remember that muscle relaxation so I could call it up on my own, without a drug. But I cannot do this constantly, you must realize. I cannot. It's not who I am. It is who I wish I was, oh yes. It is who I could have been, under difference circumstances, in a different reality, in a different life. But it is not who I am now. And I refuse to put myself in that reality too often because I have this reality to live in. I can work with myself to make vast improvements on my body and my brain-body connection; but the reality of Other Joanna, the free one, the one who is normal, is far away and in my mind. That is fine with me. Because one of these days, I will achieve something close to that.
I had more words for this, but I've started losing them. It is indescribable. I feel as though words cannot even convey anymore.
It was exquisite, but temporary. And that is fine.
I am catching up on my friends lists here. Missed a lot, I think.
Ten hours after the chiropractor had worked on my back, I took my Trileptal, and then I took a Soma to stop an oncoming fibro flare. A short time later, as the effects of the Trileptal and then the Soma hit right behind the effects of the chiropractic treatment, I broke down. It was... odd. I was thrust into a different body, a different reality. Other Joanna was not disabled. Other Joanna had loose, relaxed muscles and no pain and could move in a way I never could. Other Joanna, in her other reality, had the power and strength to jog a mile, strength train easily, ride a bicycle up and down hills, run through dozens of forms of yoga -- I could feel all this. I knew all this with a scary intuition.
But in my own body, my own reality, I couldn't articulate it. Too intense. Too overwhelming. All I could do was cry. I cried until I began to scream, or I tried to scream. The kind of scream that happens when you cry and cannot draw breath to scream, so you scream with your breath and it is nearly silent, like a dream. Tears flowing down my face, my face contorting and my words spilling out in sobbing heaves: "Oh gods, oh my gods what is this, what is this, why am I not in pain, why am I not tense, Adam what is this? What's happening?"
Adam pulled me with him to the floor and held me against him. I sobbed into his chest, my tears soaking his shirt. Occasionally I would sit up and shake and stare at my hands with a kind of joy and wonder that felt exactly like horror, because my left hand was perfect, the fingers were loose and free and strong.
That was what it felt like. A sense of ecstasy, joy, triumph, and incredulity that rode the exact same chemicals and emotions that might spawn horror and fear and shock. This was not me. This was not my body. This was a woman who was not in chronic pain, not constantly tensed and spastic. I did not know who this was. But I was in her body, or she was in mine.
One would think that I would immediately want to jump up and dance, or run, or do things that a person with this body might do, but I felt paralyzed. I was still attempting to figure it out. Neurons, muscles, tendons, chemicals, nerves, skin... what was it? Why was it? How did it? How long before it all disappeared?
After a few hours, maybe three or four, it began to fade. I came back to my body, my reality, my normal. I did not regret or mourn. This, being in pain and tension, this was normal, this was all right. The Other Joanna was far off, watching, behind the shimmering psychic wall of my imagination. I imagined I would be her in my dreams.
Perhaps I had experienced this every time I took the Soma and the chiropractic treatment released something more, alongside the stronger Trileptal dose. I don't know. It was intense, but not something I am begging to repeat consistently. That would destroy the effects.
A person ignorant of my mind and sensibilities and life might ask me why I would not want to take the Soma more often, if a chiropractic treatment could bizarrely enhance its effects. I wish I could explain. A prescription drug would not do anything but relieve my symptoms for a few hours, and blaze a trail in my memory of how I want my body to be. I could take the drug twice a week and then spend the rest of that week trying to remember that muscle relaxation so I could call it up on my own, without a drug. But I cannot do this constantly, you must realize. I cannot. It's not who I am. It is who I wish I was, oh yes. It is who I could have been, under difference circumstances, in a different reality, in a different life. But it is not who I am now. And I refuse to put myself in that reality too often because I have this reality to live in. I can work with myself to make vast improvements on my body and my brain-body connection; but the reality of Other Joanna, the free one, the one who is normal, is far away and in my mind. That is fine with me. Because one of these days, I will achieve something close to that.
I had more words for this, but I've started losing them. It is indescribable. I feel as though words cannot even convey anymore.
It was exquisite, but temporary. And that is fine.
I am catching up on my friends lists here. Missed a lot, I think.
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It sounds like you have a lot of grief to work through; associated with Other Joanna, and what you could have had - that all these treatments are bringing up for you.
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Adam is such a stalwart ground for you.. what a blessing to have him hold you through everything!
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