12.29.09
Maybe if I started indiscriminantly whacking things…
My rosebush wasn’t doing so well at the end of summer. It had strange spots all over its leaves and if you so much as brushed against it, it would shed leaves like crazy. As for the roses? Forget about it. It maybe gave me a handful of blossoms for the entire summer after I bought it.
It had been sitting outside on the stoop for more sun, but I decided that I should probably bring it inside so it didn’t freeze to death. When I brought it indoors, Azora said that I should prune it back for the winter. I figured I might as well, since the poor thing seemed to be all but dead anyways. So the two of us set to with scissors and whacked off most of the green stuff — to the point where it pretty much looked like a Y-shaped branch stuck into a pot of soil.
A couple months later with indifferent watering…
Here’s a closeup of the perfect rosebud that I never got during the warm months:
If you can tell, there’s three buds on the bush right now. Three. When I was lucky to have a half-browned, wilty little bud on the bush half the time during this summer. The other half of the time there was nothing, just lots of leaves.
So looking at my sad, sad basil plant and my dead rosemary plant — perhaps next time I should just start whacking them too? For that matter, if anyone can tell me how to keep rosemary plants alive, I’d be terribly grateful. They seem to just shrivel away even with constant watering. I now have a very nice, dry, rosemary plant sitting in a pot of moist soil.
On an entirely unrelated note, further news on things in general:
I have a therapist now. I don’t really know if he’s going to be useful or not. Our first session, he pretty much just asked me the usual questions and then gave me worksheets pertaining to my sleep and what activities I engage in.
For the X’mas weekend, I pretty much had one word to sum up what I did for that Friday, Saturday, and Sunday: Slept.
I’m not even joking. I woke up at 7 AM on Saturday morning, realized no one else was awake and decided to lie back for an hour or so. At 9:40 or so, I finally drag myself out of bed after hitting the snooze button countless times. I eat something, then sit down on the couch in the living room, and proceeded to fall asleep whilst Caesura and my father have a conversation. I rouse myself briefly to move to the other couch to watch my brother and Caesura play Puyo, and fell asleep. I realize it’s some time after lunch time, get a bowl of soup, eat that, sit down with a book, and fall asleep. I then wake briefly, rallied to read a couple more pages, and fell asleep again. Dad asks me to go help him with dinner prep at some point, so I go, then we eat, then I sit back down on the couch and watch some TV. At about 9:00 PM, I feel dreadfully sleepy…
Sunday sort of proceeded in a similar fashion.
I believe my therapist would tell me that if I only had something to engage myself with, I wouldn’t be falling asleep that much. If so, I have to say I don’t believe him. After all, when I had classes earlier this year, I would get on the train and zonk out, then I would get to class and then zonk out halfway through taking notes. In fact, I have quite a few samples of notes that pretty much went from coherent to faintly comprehensible gibberish within five sentences or less. When I was falling asleep in class in college from lack of sleep, the descent into gibberish was a lot more gradual. Of course, that’s hardly scientific, I realize.
Dad wants me to get a job. He believes that it would bring structure and meaning to my life. I believe that I would probably fall dead asleep in whatever job I managed to get and then proceed to be ignominously fired. He also believes that I suffer from self-esteem problems and guilt because I don’t have a job and don’t contribute anything to anyone. Asides from the usual self-esteem stuff, he thinks that I should get a job because if I ever broke up with Caesura/ Caesura died / something similarly unfortunate, I would need to be financially solvent.
He wants me to tell him what my “goals” are this weekend.
I really want to tell him to leave me alone until I sort out this whole problem with narcolepsy. I can hardly go job-hunting in this condition.
I also realized something unfortunate yesterday: For some reason, I’ve been continously leaking blood this entire past month even though I’m on the Nuva Ring. I thought about it and wondered if the narcolepsy might have had something to do with the constant blood loss. But then the narcolepsy was a problem before this month — so perhaps not.
My mother and my grand-aunt want me to go back to Taiwan so they can run comprehensive medical tests on me.
I really don’t want to. Asides from not wanting to deal with my mother on a daily basis in the context of living with her, I really don’t want to be living under someone else’s roof for however long it’s going to take for my body to sort itself out. I don’t know how healthy I can get with that sort of constant stress.
On the other hand, if the doctors here can’t fix me, I might not have a choice. As of right now, I’m sitting on the endless period problem and not telling the family about it because I can see a total freak-out session from everyone in Taiwan, resulting in a one-way ticket back there with no idea of when I’d be leaving. Dad pretty much knows about the narcolepsy, which is really unfortunate because now I’ll bet he told mom, which will worry her, which will lead to Bad. Things. At least I don’t think he picked up on the appetite problem or the hand tremors bit.
Ugh. Just. Ugh.
Thank the gods for small mercies, I guess.