What did you do as a child that you feel guilty about even to this day?
I murdered my entire family and all our friends by thrusting a sword through their worthless carcasses.
...but hey - I was just a kid.
I know better now. I would just shoot them.
Having experienced some of the most severe pain I have ever experienced in recent weeks, something amazing has happened tonight. Despite taking Morphine Sulphate Tablets, the pain has ben all too evident. Not just slight pain, but massive pain that takes my breath away and forces me to convulse and even cry after a while. Put simply, it's been all but unbearable at times.
I thought, with losing weight etc. that the pain might diminish. Sadly, it seems to have become more severe, if anything. Annoying.
This evening, after playing with the dosage of Morphine, I have achieved a point whereby I feel no pain if I keep still. I just have to sit still or lie still and the pain gradually ebbs away till I am free of it until I move.
It's made me realise how long it has been since I truly experienced an absence of pain. I really can't remember the last time I was completely pain free. It's a truly liberating feeling. I doubt it will last long, but already I appreciate the privilege of the experience.
It's amazing!
I inhabit the drowsy grayness
Between waking and sleep.
I sleep awhile,
I wake a while.
I see-saw between the two
As I sleep,
The pain seeps out,
Inhabiting my voice
Clawing me back
To the street-lit room
In the orange glow
My screams are muted
With embarrassment
And shame
I wrestle with my thoughts
As I lie - gripped by the fire
Ripping through my legs
Unchecked and unquenchable
These are my nights.
The previous two days the weather had not been great and the normally restless waves had transformed into something more powerful and violent. The wind, usually strong, had become a gale, blowing over even some of the more permanent beach structures.
The sea had broken through the meagre defences and made it to the main road, leaving a dodgy area to ford to get back home. The beach was covered in a kind of multi-coloured spaghetti and accompanied by some sort of industrial froth. As I stood there, taking video of the sea, the wind blew sand into my face and my glasses were covered in salt in seconds.
It was quite an ugly scene, and it lasted a full two days. On the third day, the sun rose again. It was to be our last full day in Spain. Despite the waves not quite being back to normal, we decided to have a last day on the beach and make the most of the improved weather.
The wind was still quite strong - yet not so hard as on the first day we went to the beach. We decided to take a dip in the sea.
I say "we", I mean Liz and myself. We were careful not to go too deep and it was fun. I had some eye-goggles on which I found at a local supermarket and so the sea-water did not trouble my eyes the way it had done previously.
I felt a little bit invincible.
After the dip, I came to shore to dry off and we all basked in the sun for a while, till it was nearly time to go. I decided to have one last dip in the sea, and Louise joined me.
At first it was just as before, the sea is shallow - very shallow - never coming above my waist, except for when the waves came by. It's a weird dynamic. The waves crash to shore all the time, barely a gap between them, but in those small gaps, one is left standing in little more than a puddle. The only way to even attempt to swim is to go a bit deeper.
So I did - and it was great. I got into a rhythm of turning my back to the waves and enjoying the sea high enough to almost swim in. I got to thinking that if I just went a touch deeper, maybe I could strike out and swim a little bit. Maybe the waves would just be swells a bit further out.
It was at this point that I came as close to dying as I have ever been. A wave came past and swept me off my feet. I recovered, but another wave came straight after it. I took a big mouthful of water, and was unable to to take a proper breath. Now I was short of air and the next wave hit - the aftermath dragging me further out to sea.
I was caught in a negative loop that left me unable to get sufficient breath, unable to swim and at the same time leaving the shore rapidly behind. The shouts of the children became distant and it was quiet, apart from the crashes of the waves and those underwater bubbling sounds. There were lots of them. I couldn't keep my head above water and I couldn't suck in sufficient air. I was in the first stages of drowning.
The difference between safety and peril was about eight feet for me. I noticed I was getting tired, too. Everything was an effort, and the sea was controlling me. "Not so invincible now", I remember thinking. Then, something great happened, a little lull in the waves came. I called out to a man not too far in front of me. For the first time in my life I used the word "Help!" for real. I wasn't sure I could make it on my own.
This man, God bless him, was very calm and spoke helpfully to me. "Just go with the waves, and you'll be OK." So I did. With what felt like the last of my strength I leaned forward with the waves as they broke around me and tried to hold my ground as the ebb pulled me backwards. Gradually it became clear that I was making progress. The shouts of the children became louder and the shore seemed more real.
I realised I was going to be fine, and I just felt like a great big fool. I learned that things like this really could happen to me. I learned a new respect for the sea, that such a small distance can spell the difference between great fun and mortal danger. In short, there is a line we simply should not cross - yet I so often do. Mostly through sheer ignorance, but sometimes through pride, arrogance and a mis-placed belief that I am stronger than I really am.
I stumbled through the shallows, taking time to draw plenty of breaths before meeting my two companions on the beach. There were unsure as to whether I had had fun or not, though I sensed some concern. I felt unable to voice how close it had been. I didn't want to over-hype the situation, and it was still sinking in to me. I has affected me quite deeply, though. My mind keeps coming back to those pivotal moments when it could have gone either way. If the alarm had been raised, would they have been able to get in and save me? I'm glad I never had to find out. I am eternally grateful to the man whose kind and helpful words enabled me to focus my efforts and not to panic too much.
I'm a little happier than normal to be back home.
Walking for them is like floating. Effortless, easy - without thought. Dancing is harder, but still just an extension of something inate.
I am jealous. Where they float, I struggle and hobble. Where they dance... I clap.
I want to float again.
I doubt you're particularly bothered, but I need you to know that I have not given up on the video idea. I'll be doing another one either today or tomorrow when I get time.
I need to be more single minded - achieve, dally less.
This pleasure/pain thing... reminds me of the theme in your next post.... how closely linked they often are. I wish... read more
on Herbal view