A Heavy Wound
Published on Apr 26 2010 | Filed under: Embraced by Darkness
It’s been a while since I posted (yet again). I am trying to get my feet back under me from the blows of the last two weeks. I’m still walking around through some kind of fog that’s impossible to explain but we all know what it feels like. No matter how I justify everything in my head, no matter how this is even kind of a release, I am very depressed. I’m capable of getting to work on time, doing what I need to do. But, Guitar Hero? Golf? All I want to do is sit and lick this wound. It’s just too heavy to carry around when I don’t have to be doing anything.
The worst thing that happened to be in this recovery stage was that the very first weekend (during the time I wrote my last blog entry) I finished my book. Cheers, right? Woohoo. Oh yeah, yay. But, now I don’t have anything else to do. I’m so desperate I’m starting to shift my focus to the sequel. I need something so badly so I can have an escape from myself, my book was the very best thing.
I’ve already spoken to my aunt about all of it and she’s planning on starting the “on the computer line edit” of my book as soon as we finish The Talking Stick and Richard’s Sedarstrom’s second poetry book. I don’t know if I don’t you about him yet but he’s a fantastic retired professor who is, at this very moment, my favorite person to work for. What’s great about Richard is that his writing is so unbelievably clean that Sharon should have the book ready for publication within less than a week. So, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that she’ll be able to start my book in no more than three weeks.
The golf course has opened, I don’t know about you but we’ve noticed that this is three weeks earlier and about thirty degrees warmer than any spring that I can remember. So, yay, an extra month of golf this year. I’ve golfed three times and I can’t tell you how good it felt and how good it was for me. Being in the club house has been healing. So many people who remember me, so many guys who are happy to see me. Makes a girl feel a little more than nothing. I needed that.
So, my book is almost there and I feel good about it. I’m biting my nails. The house, down south, is almost finished and should be on the market by August. I do plan on going back for a couple of weeks for the last finishing push but, for right now, I’m going to cross that bridge when I come to it and not think about that trip yet. Right now it’s just one day at a time for me. Thank God for a job to go to everyday and a mom and three dogs that love me without bounds. Even my brother has given me many hugs these past two weeks.
The worst blow was after Joseph left me, I tried to put a nail all the way through the bottom of my foot and then, about a week after that, my mom and I were testing golf cart batteries. We had already gone through almost half of our electric golf carts and I was leaning over the whole rack of 6, 6 volt batteries and I saw the spark. BOOM. The center battery blew up right in my face. The whole thing fucking detonated. I hit the ground, my face covered, my eyes and all of my exposed skin felt like I was on fire. I was convinced I’d lost the eye sight in my right eye, deformed for life. The thing had already swollen to the size of a golf ball. My mom grabbed me, flagged my brother down and they took turns dousing my face and eyes out of water. Then she and I both ran home and took showers to get the battery acid off of us.
To say the least I was a real girl about the whole thing. A couple golfer friends of my saw it happen and offered me two shots of Root Beer Schnapps, from there I smoke four cigarettes and simply sat there shaking for two hours. Never in my life could I have imagined that could happen, but of course, it would happen to me during the worst week of my life. Everyone tells me bad things come in threes so I guess I’m done for the year. We’ll see, I’m certainly not going to say out loud, “It couldn’t get worse! Things have to get better!” Because I’ve been saying that for five years and somehow it has always gotten worse.
So I am one beaten and battered chick, hobbling around with a bad foot and a shiner on my right eye that has taken on every conceivable color of the rainbow. Whatever part of the battery that hit my eye it was about a quarter of an inch higher than hitting my eyeball. I should be thankful, I flinched the right way, no permanent damage. And, God knows, what a hell of a story to tell anyone who asks what happened to my face. But it should heal without scarring and it’s already better. Besides all of that you know about my heavy wound I’m trying to carry around with me.
They say we right from wounds. Maybe this will improve my writing. I don’t think so. I’ll let you know as soon as I start in on the sequel again. Lots of ideas! The other the day I wrote three post-its worth of notes; the final finishing of the base outline for the second book. Wow.
