I’m sick, but that’s ok
I slowly got out of bed this morning with the clock approaching noon and all I wanted to do was climb back in. When asked why I was so low, so drained, I had no idea, could only think of everything happening as of late, how the unknown was getting to be too much. And then I felt sick, and I returned to bed, relieved. For once I was physically ill, not mentally, and it was a nice change.
I’m sure it sounds strange, that I would be grateful to be sick, generally not something welcomed. But, while I’m hoping this clears up as I have a couple papers to write tomorrow, to me it is predictable, and to others, acceptable. To sleep eighteen hours because I just couldn’t get up brings questions of why, what’s wrong, and so on, yet it was accepted by many shortly after I informed them I had some bug, with no questions.
Mostly, I spent the remainder of my afternoon and evening in bed, trying miserably to ignore the nauseous feeling. Odd as it may seem, it was reassuring, and good to be like everyone else for once.
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