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Writer's Block: Firsts
Jul. 6th, 2009 10:44 pm[Error: unknown template qotd]
It was entitled "Yeah... so". When I became a member, Hel insisted I made an entry, at the time, I did not see the therapeutic use of writing down my frustrations in any sort of log, let alone a public one. The subject of the entry was about my blood sample I got because I keeled over, felt the need to ram my upper lip into a handle and lay unconscious for goddess knows how long.
I remember it better than most of my experiences from that time. I can't even remember whether Rick was gone at the time, but I don't think so, since I made an entry about that happening. I was repairing a computer, my aunt's. She still had an old wreck from where she worked at the time. It was running Windows 98 and needed a new DSL modem installed. the current operating system would not accept the drivers installed and crash after a while for some reason. I was a good way to repairing the fault, when it crashed again. I uttered a pretty loud curse, angrily got up from a lying position too fast, did a couple of steps outside the library, and blacked out. I remember "dreaming", if that's what you do when you're passed out. It was about someone punching me in the face. It felt so real, hence my shock when I woke up slumped half over the staircase, half still on the upper floor. I tried to talk, but it did not work, my lip felt... nothing, stunned. as I got up and admired the new red spots on the carpet, I quickly realized I was at home, the punch never happened and I hit something. Thinking back, I remember the familiar sound of the handle springing back from "action", logically concluding I hit it with my face.
Since it was the second time I actually passed out from lack of bloodflow, and this time was slightly more serious than the last time (the first time I fell back on my bed, hitting the back of my head against a radiator, minor loss of blood), mom urged me to consult a doctor about it. He had my blood sampled and submitted for tests for anemia and diabetes, if I remember correctly.
It is surprising how much of it I can remember, seeing as my short-term memory is about as adequate as a goldfish's, moreover, I have been doing my best for quite some time to forget my past and leave it behind. I guess it's counter-productive to keep a journal when you want to forget your past. But, maybe I was wrong, and maybe I've had these doubts all along, hence me actually keeping up this journal, which I doubted back then, as well. LJ has since served me for a good four and a half years, and I intend to use it for another while. Although I fear most of my initial friends will never read this entry anymore. But, as stated before, it's a side-effect to keeping a therapeutic journal now.
Of course, that does not make me appreciate the kind people that have been a great part of the last years any less. I value them as I value the last few real-life friends I have.
Thanks guys, sincerely.
It was entitled "Yeah... so". When I became a member, Hel insisted I made an entry, at the time, I did not see the therapeutic use of writing down my frustrations in any sort of log, let alone a public one. The subject of the entry was about my blood sample I got because I keeled over, felt the need to ram my upper lip into a handle and lay unconscious for goddess knows how long.
I remember it better than most of my experiences from that time. I can't even remember whether Rick was gone at the time, but I don't think so, since I made an entry about that happening. I was repairing a computer, my aunt's. She still had an old wreck from where she worked at the time. It was running Windows 98 and needed a new DSL modem installed. the current operating system would not accept the drivers installed and crash after a while for some reason. I was a good way to repairing the fault, when it crashed again. I uttered a pretty loud curse, angrily got up from a lying position too fast, did a couple of steps outside the library, and blacked out. I remember "dreaming", if that's what you do when you're passed out. It was about someone punching me in the face. It felt so real, hence my shock when I woke up slumped half over the staircase, half still on the upper floor. I tried to talk, but it did not work, my lip felt... nothing, stunned. as I got up and admired the new red spots on the carpet, I quickly realized I was at home, the punch never happened and I hit something. Thinking back, I remember the familiar sound of the handle springing back from "action", logically concluding I hit it with my face.
Since it was the second time I actually passed out from lack of bloodflow, and this time was slightly more serious than the last time (the first time I fell back on my bed, hitting the back of my head against a radiator, minor loss of blood), mom urged me to consult a doctor about it. He had my blood sampled and submitted for tests for anemia and diabetes, if I remember correctly.
It is surprising how much of it I can remember, seeing as my short-term memory is about as adequate as a goldfish's, moreover, I have been doing my best for quite some time to forget my past and leave it behind. I guess it's counter-productive to keep a journal when you want to forget your past. But, maybe I was wrong, and maybe I've had these doubts all along, hence me actually keeping up this journal, which I doubted back then, as well. LJ has since served me for a good four and a half years, and I intend to use it for another while. Although I fear most of my initial friends will never read this entry anymore. But, as stated before, it's a side-effect to keeping a therapeutic journal now.
Of course, that does not make me appreciate the kind people that have been a great part of the last years any less. I value them as I value the last few real-life friends I have.
Thanks guys, sincerely.
