So it’s another weekend and let’s have some coffee guys, although I’d rather suggest ice coffee, it’s incredibly hot here, 30 degrees C. or something like this. 🙂
If we were having coffee, I’d ask each of you how you’re doing…
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you I am really looking forward to some cooler temps. I’m not the best at tolerating the heat so not feeling the best physically this week. I’ve suspended the Tibetan exercises until it will cool down and did them only on Monday. My room is the hottest in the whole house, it always warms up in the afternoon, luckily I have an air conditioner now and it’s on from like 3 PM until the morning. I am glad the weather is nice but a bit exhausted with the temps above 30 C in the end of May and the beginning of June. What pisses me off is that always when it’s so hot my blood pressure seems to go even more down than it’s normally and so my energy is almost non existent. Misha’s sleeping most of the time and my Mum who also has constantly low blood pressure and low tolerance to the heat feels crappy too. We’d be really glad to have a little storm and some rain.
If we were having coffee I would tell you I had an awful migraine on Wednesday. I think it was because of the heat. I spent almost the whole day in Mum’s room which seems to be the coldest one and either sleeping or just existing. I actually didn’t think it would be a full migraine, I just felt some little headache in the morning, but it got much stronger very quickly. What I hate about migraines other than just having it and being in pain and stuff is that usually when I get it I also have some scary dreams. And this time wasn’t an exception, although luckily I didn’t slip into the sleep paralysis and those very very dark dreams, they were just exhausting and weird and definitely not good. I felt better in the afternoon though and was completely free of pain in the evening. I decided to do some creative stuff, despite my brain melting successively and worked on one of Vreeswijk’s poems, which I started translating to Polish months ago. It is so frustrating, so far I have only a few of them done, I started a couple of them already but can’t finish any. I haven’t finished ANYTHING this year, guess I was too low most of the time even when I had some more time for it hypothetically. It drives me crazy that it seems that when I translate his poems, I can get through some part smoothly and then I always get stuck somewhere. But with this one – “Balladen Om Bonden Och Djävulen” (The Ballad About The Peasant And The Devil) I’m very near the end now. Despite I find it rather hard – masculine rhymes, which are so common in Swedish, but not as much in Polish, but since this poem is also his song I thought I should leave the original structure of verses, and his very unique style which was kinda hard for me to transfer into Polish in case of this poem, but at least no word games this time. This is a funny, folkloristic ballad about the peasant who is visited by the devil and he complains to the devil that he has gotten old and unappealing, while his wife is young and beautiful and he’s jealous of young men’s youth and he asks the devil to help him keep his wife by his side, so that she’d love and desire only him and the devil helps him, supposedly. I really miss those times when I translated more of him, and was very productive with doing it. So I really really hope that I’ll be able to finish this one soon and the final effect won’t be too rubbish. Then I’d like start to work with his “Veronica”, although this one is a real masterpiece so I’m not sure how it’ll go and I think it would take me a lot of time. I’m a little anxious about it, because what if I foozle it completely… but at the same time I really want to try because I know no one else would do it in Polish, and I’m curious whether I can manage it. Or if not “Veronica” I might go with a short but powerful poem called “Hemställan” which is about death and really speaks to me, but looks lke there is a word in it that is hardly translatable into Polish. I think I could go much further with translating his works if I wouldn’t be so intimidated that I may fuck it up or that translating his poems to Polish is pointless and that my dream just can’t come true. But I still am, maybe because I can’t judge my translations objectively. I tried to show them to my Swedish teacher back when he was teaching me but I feel like he can’t be objective too, well I was his best student and he wasn’t really used to having students translating Swedish poetry, so any time I showed something to him he was shocked and wondered how I do it which I can’t explain because it’s usually very spontaneously. And I feel like he never saw any flaws to my translations, other than some very glaring ones, which was always a bit confusing for me. There was my friend Jacek – the one with whom we made up the novel about Ragnarok and the viking gods – and he spoke Swedish, but sadly I can no longer ask him for any advices… Although back then he was very constructive whenever I showed him something I’ve translated. But I actually don’t know whether it’s really the problem that no one can be objective or just my AVPD goes in the way and makes me think that there’s no way at all I can do it right, which, I suppose, might also be possible. So anyway guys, please wish me luck with that ballad, it’s really short, but I’ve been dilly-dallying with it for so long that now when I finally got a bit forward I’d love to get through it and do it well.
On Thursday morning I had a blood test planned to check how my thyroid hormones are doing and had to get up at 6:30 to have it done, but because I slept so much during the day because of the migraine, I had a sleepless night, then I finally fell asleep at 5 AM so Mum decided I shouldn’t go anywhere and be a Zombie and she rescheduled it. after the blood test we planned to go to the church because it was Corpus Christi holiday and we wanted to do it possibly early because of the heat, but finally they went without me and I just listened to the Mass in the radio later on. Then they went out again to take part in the procession, but me and Mum stayed home because it was really hot and we didn’t want to risk fainting in public, that would be scary. 😀 In the evening some of Dad’s family came and we were barbecuing, although I wasn’t with them for a long time because it was just so boring so I helped Mum out in the kitchen a bit.
Yesterday I had an awful morning. I woke up around 9, but didn’t feel like getting up, didn’t have anything necessary to do and not much energy and there was no one else at home except my Mum and Misha who were also napping, so I stayed in bed and I did one challenge of my Welsh course, well I didn’t finish it because suddenly I felt somehow very tired and exhausted, definitely not as if I just woke up. Soon I fell asleep again, or rather in a sort of lethargy, with some very weird and enigmatic dreams. But I know that even in those dreams I felt incredibly weak and tired and wondered why. Then I woke up around noon and was really concerned. I just felt so… faint, wiped out, weak, dunno… like I just ran a marathon, haven’t eaten for weeks and was very sick, all together. Even turning in bed was a bit of a challenge. I was dizzy, shaky, sweating and unable to do anything. my pulse was racing And my mind felt lethargic and a bit foggy. After some time, don’t know how much really, Mum came in to my room and told me it’s noon and that we slept really long and that maybe I”d get up already. Hmmmmmm, good sugestion, but… easier said than done. I just couldn’t imagine how I could make such a heroic effort as getting up. But maybe if I got up, ate something, drank a coffee, things would get better? I motivated myself, prepared for the effort for like 15 minutes, then finally managed to sit on the bed. I thought maybe it would be wise if I drank something first, well it’s hot, and we had a lot of salty and spicy stuff in the evening at the barbecue, and I hadn’t drank much then, maybe I’m a bit dehydrated, well I doubted that I can be so very dehydrated to feel this way, apart from the evening I was drinking something almost all the time, but who knows… That thought made my fucking emetophobia kick in. But I wasn’t even strong enough to feel very anxious. I made another considerable effort to reach the glass of water I had on my bedside table. My hands were shaky as if I was a drunkard in intense delirium or something, the part of my mind that was working more efficiently was very concerned that I may soon pour everything over my bed and my precious PlexTalk. It all was taking me ridiculous amounts of time and deep down I felt kinda scared. I even thought about calling my Mum to help me out somehow, but thought that when I’ll call her, she’ll freak out and I’ll freak out too, ’cause it will feel like it’s too bad to manage it on my own so something really concerning is going on, plus I thought I have too little energy to waste it on screaming. As I was drinking the water very slowly, stopping every now and then, I just remembered my Finnish pen pal named Sohvi. Sohvi’s biggest passion is painting, she’s sent me some of her paintings’ photos and my Mum saw them and described them to me and said they seem really good. She could be a professional painter, but can’t, because she has M.E and POTS and I remembered how she wrote me that on her significantly bad days she’s actually unable to do anything and just lies in bed because even sitting can make her dizzy and is too exhausting. So the only times when she can paint or do anything else around the house are when she has her better days. It always seemed so sad for me that she can’t fulfill herself being such a wise and sensitive person as she is. I am quite an empathetic person and my imagination is very fertile so I could imagine how she has to feel on her bad days, but now it felt like a horrifically similar experience, for me personally, not like I know exactly how it is to struggle with these conditions. My imagination started to work. So what? Am I going to end up as Sohvi so suddenly? And what then? I will never translate Vreeswijk’s poems for Polish people, I will never write that novel about the viking gods, my blog will be just hanging in the blogosphere, waiting for the day when I’ll be able to write anything, and my languages… Well that seemed rather saddening. Actually I had similar things happening to me before a few times that I woke up so faint and exhausted but never as intense. It was usually due to too low blood pressure or when I was sick or at some point at the boarding school when my brain was completely screwed up from all the anxiety, stress etc. and I ate very little because of my emetophobia and because I cared very little about and for myself in general. When I drank the water I still had enough ambition to get up, but my body was stronger than me and I just fell on the bed again. Finally I found the strength to get up, didn’t even get dressed, although was incredibly dizzy, but managed to get downstairs by some miracle, and then find Mum in the cellar. I told Mum I think something’s wrong with me like I have low blood pressure or sugar or maybe something is going on with me because of the heat, and that I am completely wiped out and actually feel like I’m gonna faint anytime. Mum helped me, or rather dragged me to the kitchen and made me breakfast and then I felt more manageable. I showered, had a black coffee, then two big glasses of Mum’s orange juice and felt almost OK and definitely functional. Although when Mum measured my blood pressure it was still very low and for the whole day I felt dizzy and faint while standing and if I stood for longer it felt really unpleasant. My Mum also wasn’t feeling the best though. I think it’s all because of this heat. Anyway, I’m glad I’m OK now, but it was a bit scary, to just wake up and not be able to do anything, some part of me was really so anxious that almost sure that from now on I’m gonna share Sohvi’s fate although it was ridiculous to think so cos I guess such things don’t happen during one night.
If we were having coffee I’d tell you today Zofijka went to the Jump City with her cousin. It’s because it was Children’s Day yesterday. Zofijka is a kind of kid who always seeks for more adrenaline and likes when a lot of stuff happens around her, and she seemed happy. What I am kind of disappointed about is that those skunk slippers I bought her for her birthday still haven’t come. I hoped maybe I’ll be able to give them to her on Friday, but seems like their road is very long. Tomorrow I’m gonna be home alone for most of the day, Dad is going to work somewhere further and Mum is going with him – he’s a tank driver for those of you who don’t remember and sometimes he takes someone of us with him – and Zofijka is going on the beach with our cousins, and Olek is working. Don’t really know what I will be doing though.
OK, so that would be all from me.
What would you tell me if we were having coffee? 🙂