I wonder, too. Where is she? Where is that other, better voice who thinks all this is a story, rather than an merely a break down? Where is the person who makes all the drama into four paragraphs that end in a joke? Where is the person who makes all my problems funny? Where the hell is Nina?
Nina's here. The reason she isn't saying much is that her primary fuel is intensity - usually negative intensity; she talks when things are the most scary, the most painful, the most chaotic.
Note here the absence of these from my life: fear, pain, chaos. I don't have these things. All I have is sweet, uninterrupted calm.
Ever since I lost my job (last day: August 8th), I just haven't felt anything but completely serene. This makes no sense at all - considering the following:
1) I have no job (August 8th).
2) I have no money (OK, I have a little - but it is owed elsewhere).
3) I have no one to fall back on (no parents, no spouse, no trust fund).
4) I have no ambition (unless you count remaining calm - this I fully intend to accomplish).
I think my cousin Meg said it best the other day when we were having lunch. I listed all the reasons I should be feeling bad and she said, "Eh. You have misery-fatigue. You're just out of bad emotions the way you might run out of milk or eggs. You'll feel bad again someday. Probably just not any time soon."
Is that not about the smartest thing you've ever heard? I told her she was perfectly right. I just don't have anything frenetic and scary in my nervous system - so Nina has nothing to say unless I teach her to speak another language.
I didn't realize it at the time, but when I posted that picture of me in Iceland, I posted the last image of me ever taken before my dad got sick. That picture (2006) is therefore the last known image of me feeling good until very recently, when I started, due to misery-fatigue, to feel perfectly fine.
I'd take a picture but I've gained weight and - oh my God - did I tell you I bought a scale so I could see how bad it was?? HOLY BABY RHINO. I am going to lose weight even if it takes a chainsaw.
Next post will be about THAT. Or THIS (Nina looks down at her inexcusable breasts) and how much less (or is that fewer??? - Ugh, the grammar of them - there needs to be)) and how she plans to go back to normal. Hint: fasting causing hallucination and panic and sometimes just mundane hunger.
How are you?
(I feel pretty much awesome, in case that wasn't clear).