jalan

With a deep breath that comes out as more of a sigh than a relaxing exhalation, I grab ahold of the ladder once again, my left leg without hesitation shoots straight out, and stays straight out, flexing as hard as it can, only to relax a little and then repeat several times. Meanwhile my whole stomach and back start spasming as well and I hold on to my trusty ladder for dear life as I am thrown straight back into my bed like I were possessed by a demon, think "The Exorcist." Breathing rapidly and making strange grunting noises I work quickly to ensure that I am not thrown off the bed, when my right leg decides to join the fun and nearly rolls me onto my left side, very close to the edge. While it's not a long drop onto the floor, maybe two feet, once I am down I have no way of getting back up and will probably be stuck in whatever position that I land in, a frightening prospect for anyone I would imagine. Luckily I do not lose my grip on the ladder (this time,) and I manage to hang onto my seat and ride out the spasm. Breathless at this point, and feeling very, very tired, I grab right my leg and push it over. It falls straight with almost no protest for once, for which I am grateful, and suddenly I am lying flat on my back staring at that ceiling, yet again. I close my eyes, take another deep breath, then I get up to my right elbow and start searching for the remote to the bed, discovering it right where I left it I hit the preset button and let it bring me to a sitting position, then I reach out with my left hand for my custom light switch to inspect the damage.

I can feel how wet the sheets are underneath me from my dysreflexia, but only to about halfway down my shoulder blades, my lower back is throbbing though what I can feel throughout the rest of my body is only a fraction of the pain that is actually there. It takes a lot to make me sweat this much so I know I must have been laying like that for some time, I am so tired of doing this every single night. The pillow behind me is soaked as well, and having always had a strange aversion to wet things touching me when I am dry as well as dry things touching me when I am wet (I can not put a dry shirt on when I get out of the shower until I am completely dry, for example.) I am immediately disgusted, because I am still sweating a little and I know that I will be laying on a wet bed until it drys. The pillow problem I can solve because I keep two on my bed at all times, but the sheet below me is another matter entirely, and since there is absolutely nothing I can do about it I reach for the next best thing; the pipe full of Marijuana that I always have on the table next to me. The miracle of this simple drug for me is that it: A) Makes my body relax, and B) Makes me stop sweating from dysreflexia almost immediately. Whatching me smoke by myself though is probably quite commical as I have to do a bit of maneuvering to light it. I am good at it now after years of practice, but it never ceases to remind me of my paralysis; as all things do, really.

One, two hits and I'm good, I feel the effects almost immediately as my body responds to the drug and I start to relax a little. A cigarette comes next to complete the cocktail and I take stock of my surroundings. The house is quiet, minus the gentle rumbling of contented snores coming from the dogs in the next room. Once again the kitchen light has been left on by my father and brother on their way to work so it is shining happily through my glass bedroom doors, and though it does add a certain element to the shadow play taking place on my ceiling, I find it highly annoying, as I prefer to sleep in pitch black. And last but certainly not least my little space heater is still pumping away at full tilt, so that my room is nearly suffocating with oppressive heat. I take a drag off the smoke, close my eyes, and will the heater to turn off. Big surprise however, it does no such thing and continues pumping away, the vile sound of it's machinations filling my head like a storm, briefly it overwhelms my senses and makes me crazy, only briefly though as I breath and seek a meditative trance to gain control of my hostile emotions. Take another drag and reeeeellaaaaax, "It's not that hot in here," I tell myself. "I can take it." Yeah right, I just have no other choice, I have to take it. As I laugh out loud at my own stupidity, a voice in the back of my mind laughs maniacly at my plight, perhaps the same demon who is in charge of the rest of my body is now seeking to usurp my thoughts as well. Perhaps I am simply laughing at myself for being my own victim. Stupid indeed.

I allow the voice a moment to gloat before banishing such nonsense from my thoughts, there are no demons after all, only people. To invite such a voice is a sure ticket to madness I tell myself, though I am sorely tempted, if only because I am jealous of genuine laughter. My laugh broke with my neck, so now I have to fake it to fit in. Even though I will never fit in again, not entirely, in my mind at least. Nearing the end of my smoke I snap out of my silent reverie and focus on the task at hand; put the cigarette out without setting myself on fire, a fear for every smoker maybe but a very real one for me as I do not have the tools necessary to extinguish said fire. Mission acomplished I bend to the will of my legs and begin stretching them out, one at a time, for 15 minutes or so until they are no longer freaking out every time that I move. Lean forward, grab the right, lean back with leg in tow and hold... 1, 2, 3, 4 I am counting in my head to 10 while focusing on breathing to the rythm of my heartbeat. Now out to the side, now back up, now down. Switch legs and repeat and continue until no longer possessed by a demon, check. By now the sweat soaked matress is a distant memory as it has mostly dried, I am tired enough to not worry about the small amount of moisture I still feel. My face and neck are dry, my hair is dry, my shoulders are dry. Time to try sleep again, with a quick glance to the timepiece I note 5:50 am with disdain. How many hours like this must I spend in what remains in my life?

Uninhibited my mind starts working the calculations; roughly two hours a night are spent like this, now let's see... 2*365= 730 hours in a year... Fuck. Then suddenly realizing that I was about to start dwelling on something that would do me no good whatsoever I pushed it from my mind. I reached over and flipped the light switch, reinviting the shadows to dance on my ceiling. I hit level on the remote for the bed and once again started my breathing exercises, praying that if I were relaxing my legs would get the hint and follow suit. They did not of course, because they do not belong to me anymore, they are merely extensions of my restless spirit and they act accordingly. They act how I sometimes feel like acting, lashing out with sudden bursts of violence that sometimes take my breath away. As they settle I get back on my elbow to put them into place and then lower myself slowly onto my back. The shadows on the ceiling are waiting for my attention and I indulge them, yet again, as I start making out faces that I know well. Silently I greet them all in turn as my mind starts to drift into the void, it beckons to me and comforts like a lullaby, or a lover. My conscious thought surrenders to the sweet embrace of sleep, and dreams, my breathing evens out, my heartbeat returns to a gentle 4/4 and conciousness leaves me.

Then the nightmares start...