The great headache of 2005 is on its fourth day. Both the CSO and Cecily-with-a-calling have suggested dehydration as a possible cause so this morning I have drunk two liters of water. Now I'm pissing like a racehorse and my head hurts. I've take ibuprofen. I've gotten my glasses readjusted. I have a doctor's appointment for Monday.
Part of me is considering committing suicide by bashing my head into something and part of me is starting to wonder if perhaps I will miss the headache a bit when it is gone. As I often do, I find myself thinking of Kierkegaard writing "My depression is the most faithful mistress I have known -- no wonder, then, that I return the love."
All of this has put me in an extremely bad mood, which is probably why some things I've dealt with recently are producing this reaction.
Today I am pondering how much we have to tell people about what's going on in our lives. My issue is that I almost never tell anyone (outside a very tight inner circle of friends) about the upsetting things in my life for the simple reason that there are too many of them. My family is a big southern novel and somebody is always getting arrested, getting fired, getting estranged from somebnody else or doing something self-destructive and having to go into the hospital. The only reason that I am not a colossal bore to all my friends is that I do not talk about it. Yes, some individual events are upsetting enough that I write about them or talk about them here, but as a general principal I ask people what's up with them instead.
I don't want to punish people for caring about me, just sometimes I wish they didn't quite so much.
I had told one lady in my church that my Dad hasn't been doing well. Today in front of another lady she asks how he is. Lady #2 says "Is your dad sick?" I mumbled a yes (the truth) and that he would be fine (a lie) and shuffled off, hoping that the whole church wouldn't find out. My parents' church is full of well-meaning people who have a nasty habit of turning church families into community service projects, a tendency that brings to mind C.S. Lewis' comment "She's the sort of woman who lives for others - you can tell the others by their hunted expression."
I really do only announce births, deaths and marriages at Joys and Concerns.
This attitude is fine when it comes to church, but it has created issues for me when friends of mine have been offended that I didn't confide. But those who aren't really close to me seem uncomfortable when I do.
So that's what I'm thinking about today. At least for an hour as I go take a nap before I meet a friend for lunch. My head hurts, you know.