2004-06-09
Her Long Awaited Return
hearing: Lifelong Fling - Over The Rhine
reading: Middlemarch by George Eliot, Sonnets by Shakespeare
wearing: pink pj pants and a blue shirt
Minja stalks into her driveway dangling the original diary lock and key on her finger with a hand on her hip, and the other arm bent and suspended somewhat limply. She shakes her head and calls after Cyrik
Ok, I let you be in control for longer than originally decided. You can go work on your own diary. This is mine, and its time for me to get it back. I have my original password for this diary poised and ready to take over again. You will be unable to post again.
turns away to return to her regularly scheduled diary writing
Alright, I hope everyone enjoyed Cyrik's entries, I hope he kept you well enough entertained, although I would imagine most of you missed the true owner of this diary. Well she's back now, and typing with two hands again.
So what's the story? Why was I gone? Well...
On Sunday, around noon, I was out cavorting with my siblings with a camera. We were filming our awkward camera shy stunts and acting altogether odd and unnatural in the attempt to create an exciting film. My sister suggested darting, but that wasn't going so well, so next she suggested we jump back and forth over the white picket fence which runs around our backyard. I happen to jump it quite well, so I was going to jump and my sister was going to film.
I went leaping and bounding over to the fence, then stopped short once I got to it. I walked back and forth a bit, surveying the white almost waist high fence, and the rocks at the edge of the yard beyond it. I was worried about this jump. I always was. I was worried about whether I could complete it in this dangerous, daring way. I had done it earlier though. I should be able to do it now.
So, still unsure of my capabilities, I poised myself, stuck my hand on the fence and began to propel myself over.
Now, I lose what exactly happened, but I slipped, and I began to fall. And it took so few seconds for me to fall, but I felt as if I were falling in slow motion. Slowly cutting through the air towards the ground. My mind went into a panic and I thrust out my left had to catch my fall.
I fell straight on it and then kept going. It all happened so quickly though, as soon as my left hand hit the ground, everything sped up from slow motion to fast forward. And everything was something of a blur after that.
My left arm hurt. Bad. And it wasn't going away quickly. I could hardly move it. I began making uncharacteristic weird whiny animal noises and jumped up to stumble back to the house. After a couple falls to the ground again on the way, I finally made it up and in where my father heard me, got up from his nap, and began to tend me.
Nothing broken fortunately, but apparently a badly strained muscle. I was unable to really use my left arm at all, and the injured muscle was irritated by the useage of my left hand. I was unable to type with it. I didn't want to try writing all this up with one hand only, and I didn't want to keep entries going, because I am so impatient and it takes me so much longer to type with one hand, thus I turned my diary over to Cyrik to take care of it.
And that's why I was gone, and how my diary fell into the hands of another.
But the past few days have been quite a grand adventure. A true test of my ingenuity and independance. I put on a good face, and kept a great attitude about this, and it has altogether, been indeed, an adventure. Somewhat enjoyable, although it frustrated me greatly not to be able to do things myself.
I had never quite realized how independant I wanted to be. But I found that I was so terribly ashamed and frustrated every time I had to go ask for help. I didn't want to. I had to, but I felt defeated.
But at the same time, I...Well, I think my nature would be to laze on the couch all day, and cry and whine about my arm as I directed everyone to do every single thing for me, and be stuck in the same clothes, without a shower, because I could not do anything myself. Or, that's what I fear. I feared giving in and asking for help, because I feared slipping into that void of self pity and reliance on others. I had to fight back. And I would. I could still be self sufficient. Even with one hand.
I don't know. I haven't given that enough thought. I haven't completely sorted out my feelings and actions yet. And that can be a long process, so I am not going to promise a follow up which takes this apart more thoroughly.
My mind has been more occupied with other things anyway...
post script:
Unease
admiration
respect
awe
veneration
shy
fear
so much fear
incompetance
so much incompetance
self incompetance
and so unworthy.
Slay Me
?