Limbo, limits and living.
Ever since I suffered a severe traumatic brain injury in 2006, I feel as though I've been in limbo. In fact, the only thing I can think of that's not in limbo is my relationship, seeing as how Catherine consented to marrying me, despite my addled brain and penchant for throwing up* at inopportune times (thankfully, not much of a problem anymore).
But everything else? LIMBO. Album, job, basically my entire future.
Oddly, enough, however, my limbo lounge of a life has been motivating. I think the reason is pretty clear: before my accident, I never thought much about running out of time, there always seemed to be plenty of it, so I put stuff off, pouted more than I should have, fretted over a lot things not worth fretting over. But now, now, everything is different. For the first time ever I worry about running out of time, about not getting done the things I want to get done, about missing out on things -- and it KILLS ME that I can't push myself very hard every minute of every day. And because of my limits, the moments I do I have when I feel good, find me with more motivation than I've had in ages. I have stuff I want to do, damnit!
So, even though, I have no moments in which I feel like my old self -- I'm always dizzy, I'm always worried about headaches and fatigue and I have weird, jerky Parkinson's-like movements -- I feel like I just might be living a richer life than ever before.
Still, it'd be nice to wake up and not feel like crap!
* Brain injury patients vomit like pros, because vomiting affects the PH balance in the brain, which can get thrown out of whack by a brain injury (I think, doing a bit of research on this now).