I thought I’d post this fuzzy bit from my journal from the other day, written while I couldn’t think straight thanks to painkillers:
Although the pain is supposed to stop it aches onwards, tearing up my patience into tiny rice-sized confetti to be thrown at its own wedding in a self-congratulatory way. My uterus is hostage, on a forced elopement with fertility. And here am I, tugged along at the navel, churning and boiling and desperate and angry and rolling, rolling, rolling…
Rolling my eyes along the page, clicking through newspaper articles and memes like a Ritalinless nut child, always my eyes keep rolling in my head as though I’ve died, unable to grasp a foothold on any single word, line, or paragraph. My vision is like a storm tossed ship, and my head is lazily confused, a truly stoned hippie caught in a maelstrom, too stupid to move.
Ever since I stopped the pills any drug I take hits me harder. Alcohol gets me tipsy and then drunk, instead of dry mouthed and then migraine. Codeine makes me woozy and useless – the current culprit in this atrocity against my brain.
Acetaminophen with codeine is all that soothes my savage abdomen when the monthlies come around. Long has it been so, but long have I been immune to perils of the dizzy stupor that codeine likes to visit on the uninitiated. But ever since I stopped the pills…wheeeeeeeeeee.
Is it just that I am more sensitive to my ability to think, preoccupied as I am with my academic work? Even drinking a beer impedes my ability to think clearly enough to read journal articles, and I never used to notice a single bottle’s worth having any effect on me at all. Now it’s all haze and fuzz and cotton, much as it is now, high as I am on the single dose of painkillers.