Neighbours
Not the Australian soap opera! I haven't got a tv, no need for one when I have got the internet! but already I digress!
Nightmares weren't part of my original list of symptoms of withdrawal, but I suppose clarity of thought as well as an increase in Delta brainwaves a result of increased oxygen levels to the brain is surely the reason for them. I am no Neuroscientist, so maybe if there is one reading they could explain or maybe this is a question for the uselessmen?
I have just woken from a nightmare, hence the time for posting and the subject. When I started this blog, I said I might, from time to time, reveal some of my motives for giving up. Let me give you some background for motive number one.
I have a neighbour, I shall just call him H. I don't know a great deal about him, (and I'll go more into this later), but I do know H is 12 years older than me.
Four years ago, H had an operation on his legs. All I know for sure is that H had a couple of veins removed from each leg. The scars that he showed me were reminiscent of those that, in my imagination, could only have been created by Dr von Frankenstein, a good 4 mm wide and encompassed the entire length of each of his legs. Whilst proud is not a word I would use to describe his demonstration of these scars, the obvious relief that he hadn't lost the legs was, but more so the pride in the fact that he had finally kicked his 40 a day habit.
My nightmare centres around legs, not H's, but mine. In my previous dreams, the difference though had been that I had no legs. An advance in years to that of H saw me in hospital being pushed around in a wheelchair after the operation to save them failed. This had actually been a recurring theme in my nightmares, but this time saw an alteration to the ending. I walked out of hospital on crutches. The operation had been a success. As time goes by, and the cessation time increases as it will, this nightmare will fade, as will the risk of me needing to have such major surgery.
How morbid, I hear you say. Very true, very vivid too, and 3 years ago I might not have cared. Today I do care. I care about a lot of things these days, not least in myself. I have been in this house for over 16 years. In all truthfulness, I can't say I know much about my neighbours. Only 2 of the households though have lived here longer than me, yet I still feel like the the outsider.
I have been so wrapped in me, yet not, (if that is possible) that I have never spent any time getting to know these people that have, in essence, been part of my life. I have learnt more in the past three months about them, just as I was preparing to leave them, than I have in my entire time here. Some people have just come and gone, leaving no impression on me whatsoever, and I suppose I have made none on them. I have never been inside one of their houses and none have been in mine, unless of course they have been invited in by my Grandmother! Don't go there, that is a book in itself, a complete case study for any young psychiatrist wanting to make a name for themself!
I have calmed down now and bed beckons again, at least this time I can walk there!
Nightmares weren't part of my original list of symptoms of withdrawal, but I suppose clarity of thought as well as an increase in Delta brainwaves a result of increased oxygen levels to the brain is surely the reason for them. I am no Neuroscientist, so maybe if there is one reading they could explain or maybe this is a question for the uselessmen?
I have just woken from a nightmare, hence the time for posting and the subject. When I started this blog, I said I might, from time to time, reveal some of my motives for giving up. Let me give you some background for motive number one.
I have a neighbour, I shall just call him H. I don't know a great deal about him, (and I'll go more into this later), but I do know H is 12 years older than me.
Four years ago, H had an operation on his legs. All I know for sure is that H had a couple of veins removed from each leg. The scars that he showed me were reminiscent of those that, in my imagination, could only have been created by Dr von Frankenstein, a good 4 mm wide and encompassed the entire length of each of his legs. Whilst proud is not a word I would use to describe his demonstration of these scars, the obvious relief that he hadn't lost the legs was, but more so the pride in the fact that he had finally kicked his 40 a day habit.
My nightmare centres around legs, not H's, but mine. In my previous dreams, the difference though had been that I had no legs. An advance in years to that of H saw me in hospital being pushed around in a wheelchair after the operation to save them failed. This had actually been a recurring theme in my nightmares, but this time saw an alteration to the ending. I walked out of hospital on crutches. The operation had been a success. As time goes by, and the cessation time increases as it will, this nightmare will fade, as will the risk of me needing to have such major surgery.
How morbid, I hear you say. Very true, very vivid too, and 3 years ago I might not have cared. Today I do care. I care about a lot of things these days, not least in myself. I have been in this house for over 16 years. In all truthfulness, I can't say I know much about my neighbours. Only 2 of the households though have lived here longer than me, yet I still feel like the the outsider.
I have been so wrapped in me, yet not, (if that is possible) that I have never spent any time getting to know these people that have, in essence, been part of my life. I have learnt more in the past three months about them, just as I was preparing to leave them, than I have in my entire time here. Some people have just come and gone, leaving no impression on me whatsoever, and I suppose I have made none on them. I have never been inside one of their houses and none have been in mine, unless of course they have been invited in by my Grandmother! Don't go there, that is a book in itself, a complete case study for any young psychiatrist wanting to make a name for themself!
I have calmed down now and bed beckons again, at least this time I can walk there!
posted by putasolutions at 3:05 am
4 Comments:
Thank you, Holly, for those words of encouragement. It has got easier, and you are quite right, this is determination I haven't felt in a long time. Glaucoma is treatable, but at least it isn't MS! ;)
yes, yes,you are doing great! i don't remember having nightmares when i quit, i think our bodies go through strong changes with such an addiction withdraw.
i had 3 sisters and a mom whose vericose veins were stripped from their legs. they all still have their legs! but they smoked a lot and never got any exercise. are you doing anything in the aerobic world?
I play squash once a week, go horse riding and at the moment a considerably amount of walking. Managed to get in 3 miles today, so not completely inactive!
good,
and speaking of neighbors.....
i don't know mine very well, i only hear his insistent, horrible cough every morning......then i see him outside turning on his water with a cigarette in his hand....
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