wg1- sleep

I’m not sleeping.

My bed has become a museum piece- yellow sheets bloodstained a bit from mishaps involving my psoriasis.  Dark brown wood bed frame surrounded by bare walls and a pale sisal mat on the floor.  One light, a library lamp with green shade giving the warm colors another warm inviting glow.

And a CPAP.

Put me in it, and I’m staring at the ceiling, staring through the doorway, staring at the walls, sometimes scratching or slapping, furiously hunting for any sign of a bedbug, then lying down again.

The fireworks are in my brain- the old anxiety is back again, now more spry and youthful than ever.  Fears about money, where to live, how to be.  People leaving, betrayals, positives turn to negatives, etc., etc.

But if it were an exhibit, you wouldn’t know it.  Only my bedbug hysteria would show it.  Just another museum piece to look at, murmur about, and walk away.

Infest

All right... nowhere near once a week...yet.  Intentions is still there, its just life getting in the way.

INFEST-

To live in or overrun to an unwanted degree or in a troublesome manner, especially as predatory animals or vermin do

to be numerous in, as anything undesirable or troublesome.

I write to you now with my desk empty and its contents spilling out into the shoebox I hope it will fit into.

Im packing up my apartment- to leave?  Not yet.

My apartment has some little visitors, some friends I wished to have never seen in my lifetime, and would not wish it on any other person.

They are bedbugs.

And this is the second time I have to undergo the process of cleansing the infestation.

The first time, not too long after my birthday, I was on the couch, and watch one scuttle across my pillowcase.  And of course the first thought in my head was denial.  Maybe it was something else?

It scurried back, and I pounced on it and killed it, picking it up in a paper towel and hearing a pop as its abdomen burst, releasing the blood- my blood it had taken.

I then spent the next two hours in full anxiety- tearing every damned thing apart, trying to find them.  Then trying to pretend that maybe it was just one, and there weren't any others?

Saw another one the next day, so I went to my landlord- who jumped to activity, and everything was set up with the exterminator, I just had to prep the apartment first.

-empty out anything that wasn't the kitchen,

-take every fabric oriented thing I had and put it in the dryer on high for thirty minutes.

-pack all the stuff I pulled out and put it all in the kitchen

-stay out of the apartment for several hours after the chemical is used.

-go on as if everything is normal, and wait the whole 30 day life cycle to see if it worked.


And it didn't.  I killed one this morning that was crawling on my lower back.

I don't know if I have felt more unclean, more just grubby and dirty and worthless with this invasive infestation going on.  People tell me not to worry too much, that I didn't do it, but god damnit, I'm being infested with way too much right now.

Lets list it, shall we?


-  Psoriasis.  Big blooming red sores all over my legs and elbows.  There is one huge crusty sore on my leg that people mistake for a horrific wound.  They itch and they hurt, and it feels like I have spread paste on my body that has dried too tight.  Im doing what I'm supposed to do with phototherapy and ointment, but it is being damned stubborn.

-  Hypothyroidism.  Ok, stretching the infestation definition a bit here, but I have been hypothyroid enough to be in pain when I walk two blocks.  And I still am trying to get back to a decent energy level--a decent amount of spoons.

-  Warts.  The bad kind.  they arrived after white a long time of inactivity.  And they don't want to go away.

-  Uncertainty.  Not that uncommon for me, but there are big things in that mix.  A job.  A place to live.  Health insurance.

-  People who don't respect me.  This is a hard one, because I do what I can to respect others, and there seemed to be quite some talk around me as to how bad I was.  I am taking steps with this one, but it is still quite painful.

I could put in anxiety and depression, but they are a given.  A lot of infestation going on now.

 So what do I do?

I cook dinner, eat it, do the dishes, start packing things away, and then sit on the couch, not wanting to sit on the couch, so I get up and sit at the computer.

And write this.

There you have it.  I'm looking back at this and not knowing what else to write, so I'll stop here.  Heres to writing to you post bad infestation...