Beauty in Lability

Beauty in Lability

It is sudden, unanticipated, these physiological and psychological changes. I contemplate my actions and try to give reason for the unfavorable emotional repercussions that I am directing towards those who simply do not know, who could not know. I close myself off from those who are closest, though I still want and seek refuge from just those individuals I shut out, leaving me grossly distraught by their resulting absences; though my wanting is fit quite tightly within certain conditions. I cannot help but feel…agitated, is it? …disheartened maybe, that it’s just not there – it, which I have not specified because I myself don’t know what it is exactly that I want or need. Because I want it all – the support, the presence, the space, the time, the silence, the community, family, the care, the love… I want it all, but I know I cannot, and I know that my wanting is selfish and, if I’m resentful to not get it all, my bitterness about it is shameful. This process has fed another side of my character and, now, I must find peace and exhibit graciousness for the things I do have without focusing on what is not here right this moment.

I am labile. It is temporary. My body exhibits what my mind and soul are experiencing. It tires, dampens, sweats, chills, itches, hives, and slowly shuts down; those autonomic systems are losing reliability in their functions. This new treatment is not a terrible torture, but it is no walk in the park; though, ironically, it may just make that strolling something less labored, something less thought about, and almost easy. Imagine that.

I won’t be presumptuous, but I will be hopeful. I am going on week two (I wrote on week two; it is now the end of week three) of this something new (Lemtrada) and am learning how far my body will stretch its being to restore and maintain homeostasis within. Some of these responsive measures I’ll attempt to illustrate:

Sleeping Beauty’s slumber does not suffice. When fatigue sets in, I grow more dreary, and my only resorting wish is to vanish – to vanish in order to feed my starving sleep and when I wake, it is only through peeping eyes, because the effort to open wider is an energy I am, right now, without. Now, awake, sudden beats of life begin to pound heavily in my head. My ears are deafened to the sounds outside; I know my body is telling me something about what is going on inside, relentlessly drowning out the external noises no matter how I try to restore normalcy to my sensations. I look around in a hazy gaze and feel ever so loopy. What made me feel this way – this something and nothing at all way? It is not a dream, but when will it end? It ends in my step – the sensation ends that is – and I’m forced to lay still, wait out this storm, and rest my worn being till it is ready to, again, be.20629978_10155773665194467_2061576461_o

There’s beauty in this ugliness of being labile. Emotional changes express the rawness that the soul is feeling in result of physiological tampering. Raw, but still beautiful. This treatment desires a labile immune system; open and easily altered. Of course it is not as easy, physically or emotionally, as it is to read what is written here, but it is fascinating and an impressive correction of our being’s displacement. Broken down and pushed out of stability, my body is stripped raw and is, slowly, beginning to rebuild. But, while it is still raw, it is vulnerable and unstable, and understandably screams when prodded. I must keep everything clean, and safe, and comfortable. I must allow these labile responses, be patient, and rest. I must create a safe space, around me and within, to heal and rebuild a less hostile internal environment.

Right now I am labile, but in time, I will find health and stability; of body and mind, and be overall well. Imagine that. Isn’t it beautiful? I believe it is.