Day 2- The Needle and other inanities.

I’m often accused of verbosity. Of using thirty words when seven would suffice. Mea Culpa. But pray tell me, if a resource were infinite;  is there need to practice restraint. What has austerity of words ever accomplished. Silence can be a powerful weapon. And like any warrior of words, I know when to wield it. Verbiage ain’t no sin, but prolixity is. I hope I’m never charged of the latter.

Ugh! I digress.

Day 2, of being homebound or “locked- down” as described by current, trendy parlance . Fed and bathed the progeny and myself. Cleaned and played referee for most of the day. Got a badass upper body workout in, while the progeny tried to the tear the door down. Had an afternoon nap with the soon to be three year old (oh, oh- he turned three twenty minutes ago). Tea and biscuits on the balcony. I could get used to this.

I did not venture out today, though I contemplated it quite a few times. Every time I read a whatsapp message, or watched the news; I felt I was being told to stock up. Maybe tomorrow. Let’s see if my will lasts another day.

The Needle stayed put in the ‘happy to okay’ section. The Needle is a determinant/ measure of my mood and mien. The state of my mental workings at any point of time. It is tremendously variable, and the spectrum is truly spectacular. If my husband’s scale ranges from a mere 1 to 5. Mine is a an easy 1 to 100. External stimuli, internal triggers, hormonal fluctuation, diurnal variance, nutritional insufficiency; any and all may lead to  wild swings of the needle.

I consider it my biggest failing. Yet, it forces me to live life with a sort of intensity and vigour that is hard to describe to one that has never experienced it. Joy is like a thunderstorm with crackling thunder and blinding lightening. Misery is like a shroud of all encompassing darkness with cacophony of relentless thoughts that cannot be powered off. Anxiety is multiplied, so is productivity. It is a fabulous life, yet taxing in ways that cannot be easily understood. The Needle at a certain point can get one to run a marathon on a whim, read Lord of the Rings in a night. At another, it will refuse to let you get up for work.

Therefore, I need to keep my vision short. Not think too far. Not take The Needle for a ride. These are difficult times for everyone. Misery and pain, are unique. They cannot be quantified. It exists, it can be more or less in a theoretical sense. But for the person experiencing it, it is beyond comparison. A person may have broken every bone in his body. Or lost many loved ones. Yet the man next door with a broken finger or a dead cat is miserable as well.

Still, I keep telling myself that no matter how bad things get; it could alway be worse. Pleasant thoughts, eh?

My world is currently compressed. We have closed ranks. Shuttered ourselves in. Ironically, it’s currently only my kids, parents and I. As for Mr H, I worry. That is all I can do for now. Good thing is, I’m an expert at worrying.

Anyhoo, it has truly been a long- winded, inane post. Apologies for inflicting my verbosity on you poor souls!

Till next time,

J.

 

 

 

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