Recuperation and how to cope with it.
You've had an illness. The illness is clearing up.
You're left with the aftermath. Well I'm left with aftermath actually.
The level of frustration is incomprehensible unless you have experienced the inability to bounce back with vigour.
Because vigour is the one thing you lack.
Bilbo Baggins describes to Gandalf his older life with the ring. He says he feels like bread with the butter spread too thinly.
The sensation that you can do certain tasks but instantly have no reserves. I know this is a temporary affair. I know that every day, I get stronger. For one thing, I'm actually writing again. Haven't considered that for over a month. I can now do things that were inconceivable last week. As I stumble into my favourite month, I need to be strong enough to take walks in the woods as they scatter their carpet of dead leaves. To appreciate warm soups on a cold day. To embrace nights round the fire. I wish i could hurry up and get to the stage where these are not beyond the belief that I can only eat food for fuel, take walks if they lead somewhere and not see a fire as a necessity to maintain my body temperature.
This is all so frustrating, as you can probably tell. So I shall go away, feed myself up, walk a bit further, do my regular jobs steadily. I shall even crack on with my new book. I've never written a thriller before. I like the dark, the menacing, the unsettling. This one will hopefully be all of this.
Just please let me recuperate quicker!
You're left with the aftermath. Well I'm left with aftermath actually.
The level of frustration is incomprehensible unless you have experienced the inability to bounce back with vigour.
Because vigour is the one thing you lack.
Bilbo Baggins describes to Gandalf his older life with the ring. He says he feels like bread with the butter spread too thinly.
The sensation that you can do certain tasks but instantly have no reserves. I know this is a temporary affair. I know that every day, I get stronger. For one thing, I'm actually writing again. Haven't considered that for over a month. I can now do things that were inconceivable last week. As I stumble into my favourite month, I need to be strong enough to take walks in the woods as they scatter their carpet of dead leaves. To appreciate warm soups on a cold day. To embrace nights round the fire. I wish i could hurry up and get to the stage where these are not beyond the belief that I can only eat food for fuel, take walks if they lead somewhere and not see a fire as a necessity to maintain my body temperature.
This is all so frustrating, as you can probably tell. So I shall go away, feed myself up, walk a bit further, do my regular jobs steadily. I shall even crack on with my new book. I've never written a thriller before. I like the dark, the menacing, the unsettling. This one will hopefully be all of this.
Just please let me recuperate quicker!
Comments
Post a Comment