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#Sleep of the Damned
   If Only I Could, I surely Would

 

“Life is all about timing… the unreachable becomes reachable, the unavailable become available, the unattainable… attainable. Have the patience, wait it out; it’s all about timing.” Stacey Charter

I know about the sleep of the damned. It’s not quite what you might think. No diving into a hellish deep, tortured souls tearing you apart – perhaps it is for some, but not for me.

Mine lies somewhere between a light doze and wakefulness. It’s the lightest doze imaginable where my heartbeat plays time with my thoughts. Thoughts in colour and action to make sleeping a sometimes joke. Occasionally I’ll slip in the transition between the two and fall into sleep’s welcome embrace. Of late, it’s filled with vibrant dreams, some easy to understand, some so confused I’m not sure where the middle, beginning and end are. But that too is immaterial here.

For several weeks, I have fought a good fight against the effects of a niacin flush. Sounds like a fancy cocktail, but without the little umbrella! Instead, it’s a detox strangle – melodramatic, I’m sure. Yet I told “them” I was allergic to “B” vitamins. I’ve had to be careful for years, guarding myself against anything containing “B” vitamins which it seems my body cannot tolerate, all except B12, in which I am so deficient they call it ‘Pernicious Anaemia’!

So my niacin flush – beautiful blushes of sunset red or sunrise hues – more like sunrise I think, as it’s followed by the rising heat of the blush and a raging conflagration – akin to a wildfire. It cannot be quenched or put out, nor tamped down. I have to allow it to – yes, flush through my body.

Like most things it’s good and bad. The good is the benefit of the detox, removing those things harmful to me. The bad – oh just the crippling migraines, light sensitivity, crushing aches and pains as though my body is being torn apart.

Even this could be managed with good rest. Yet the pain, muscle, bone, head all combine to throw a huge barricade across that nebulous boundary between the twilight doze and real sleep, hence the “sleep of the damned”!

It’s frustrating since I crave organisation. I like my ordered routines. Poetry, stories, conversation and more, photos and sharing my thoughts. That has been tossed out like yesterday’s garbage, until my niacin flush has gone away.

If I find it frustrating, it may be worse for those trying to follow my blog, since you have no idea what or when I’m publishing. It pains me to say it, as so much else does at present, but I’m having to learn patience. It’s a dreadful curse, one I’ve fought most of my life. But I promise you this, I will be back on track, with my writing and my schedule, just as soon as I’ve put out my bushfire!

Since today was my day to visit my doctor and half a dozen hypodermics later, thought is a vague thing, and vision is blurry. You might say the spirit is willing but the body is weak. Hence this little explanation for you to understand my dilemma. Now I look forward to another night of the sleep of the damned again!

 

Blessings, Susan, ♥

© Susan Jamieson, 2014

© Executive Sorceress, 2014

Image from http://www.josephienwallart.co.uk  

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#ScheduledProgamming

Celtic Goddess Epona… Facebook.com

 I hear there are people who actually enjoy moving. Sounds like a disease to me – they must be unstable. Though it does have it’s poetry, I’ll allow that. When an old dwelling starts looking desolate, a mixture of regret and anxiety comes over us and we feel like we are leaving a safe harbor for the rolling sea. As for the new place, it looks on us with alien eyes, it has nothing to say to us, it is cold.”
Jan Neruda, Prague Tales

It almost becomes an imperative, once the blogging bug takes hold. There is a pleasure, a gratefulness that the words you pen are read by other people. Not only that they are read but that people also enjoy, are entertained by, or perhaps learn something from those words you offer.

Perhaps they are lofty ideals but they are pleasant ones. Moreover, they are ones which bring no harm to anyone, which is something I’m rather passionate about. In everything I do, I hope that someone may find a word which helps them in their day-to-day life, even if it is only a temporary distraction.

It began as a distraction for me and has grown to mean a great deal more. Friends I have made in my journey have grown to mean a great deal to me. It has become empowering. However, I am now knee-deep in cartons and tape, boxes and paper, bubble wrap and labels, as we pack up our home and prepare to move.

 

It would be woefully inadequate to say I am in a state where I feel capable to render much assistance with this. Such is my stubborn nature that I refuse to allow my health issues to stop me from doing what I can. I can truthfully say that this move, more than any other has seen me less helpful than I would like.

A day in bed, trying to “rest up” has barely dented the drain on my pitiful reserves. However, in ten days’ time the removalists arrive and ready we must be, and I want to do my part. (Plus, it niggles like fury when I cannot find anything at the other end!)

So, for the next ten to fourteen days my regular blogging schedule will be interrupted. I will post as and when I can and share any funny, farcical incidents which always occur when people pack up their lives to move. Falling into packing boxes always makes the onlookers smile if not the person upended inside the box.

Regular programming is expected to resume after the 3rd May. Wish me well. I think I may need it.

 

Blessings, Susan ♥

© Susan Jamieson 2014

#ScheduledProgramming

image from imgur.com

 

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