Achilles, Please Come Down -Song Whittington

    Fog. There was so much fog, and while it was a bit overbearing, I understood. Sure the fog set the scene but it set something else. It set my thoughts off onto a track that I had been delaying for, oh dear, three days now. Among the chaos of life in general, school, and work, I've been struggling with a few extremely specific things in the past three days. Of all the things that have happened, I don't think I could have described it better than simple, overwhelming fog. 

    To go on a personal side tangent, as I seem to tend to do in these posts, I've been struggling. Not with school, and not even with work as the flow of people pick up tremendously the closer All Hallow's Eve approaches. Those I can handle. It's not even the thought of having to pay for repairs from Pyro's little fender bender, which I do believe you all know about given how they handled it. No, it's far from those things. I seem to be developing POTs, or at the very least am showing POTs like symptoms. As I type this, my legs dangle over the chair feeling as though I have bricks tied to them. I've been fighting an episode for the last three days, and it's honestly just a matter of time at this point. To add to this, my brain had the brilliant idea to shut off my emotions halfway through the day, so I have been nothing but numb and felt nothing but frustration at my brain all afternoon. As though this wasn't enough, I had a flashback while staring into the brazier over by the cottages tonight. So, to say a lot has been on my mind and been occurring to me is a bit of an understatement, in my opinion. Not to mention me avoiding an assignment for a class I have no interest in and also trying to take care of one of my partners as they struggle with issues of their own. My hero complex is really kicking my butt today, isn't it? 

    And yet, Dickens makes sure we are aware of the fog, and of all the things I am hyper-aware of right now, I am aware of the fog. It surrounds me, it taunts me, it calls to me. I honestly would tell it to "f off" if I knew that would have an effect. Fronting (controlling the body) has been draining me more and more and I don't understand why. I used to front for months at a time before, two hundred hours used to be nothing. Now I struggle as I have barely breached one hundred hours. I don't understand, and that only stands to frustrate me further! 

    I know nothing of the fog, where it comes from and where it goes, or when it goes. All I can do is hope it goes soon, and pray I have the strength to reach out for help because Lord knows I can't handle this on my own. 


-Ria


Commented on: Elijah Mahn & Ian Blair

Comments

  1. Perhaps that's the point, and Dickens just wants everyone to want the fog to GO AWAY. But then again, his redundancy continues even after the fog metaphor, so I can't really give him that. Aside from that, I hope you get out of the fog.
    PS: heat and bright light are generally good at dissipating fog. I wonder if this applies mentally... Or perhaps you just need to rest. A brain break often helps clear the fog.

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  2. I loved your post in that it was personal and truthful. I like how you tied the book to personal life. I believe we all at times can feel overwhelmed especially in college.

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