Original work from our Writers, Guest Bloggers and Freelancers
Viewing entries tagged
whitney hill
Within minutes I have eight hands simultaneously checking my back for rashes, sticking ports in my arm and checking my vitals. They ask me for consent in using a breathing tube (luckily, wasn't used), then in one quick action a nurse tells me to take a deep breath and an epi pen is jammed into my upper thigh. In an instant, an IV of steroids and Benadryl begin to rush into my veins and I feel like Frankenstein reborn.
Straying a little bit away from articles that are usually posted here at Sporkability, I recently got caught up with the idea of depersonalization. And so, going with that mind set, I examined curious occurrence of dreams and how they trick the mind and senses into believing something false and how Descartes Meditation theories play into this idea. Enjoy!
In our awaken state of mind, with our bodies tolling throughout the day, we rely on our senses, our conscious morally correct mind, each other and ourselves to relay back to us what we see and know. We trust in the elementary things that have been taught to us from years ago. We act on them and use them as devices to make simple and exquisite decisions. At the end of the day we retire, slipping into an altered state of mind, we dream of things that could never fully come to term if placed in this world of limitations. We wake and replay each day with only minor differences to tell one another from the last. Our senses drive us through this process; we follow blindly. We are finite. We are flawed.
Those words, like a festering wound, would echo through my being and cause a mental pang that left me enraged and unsettled.
I guess some would say that I was oversensitive – I mean they were just words. Silly, stupid words that I should have been able to let roll off my back. At least this is the coping advice I was given my whole life (drastically easier said than done, mind you). The memories however, the ones that crawled into my mind when I heard such words, were unavoidable and couldn’t be easily forgotten. What are you really supposed to do when words such as these, are used to define your differences?
All of my disabilities, foibles and peculiarities feed into the process.
My years of jerking cars from wrecks and hauling them across San Jose produced the mundane side of Hooker.
My being overweight, love for cooking and caring for others shows up in Dolly the dispatcher.
My year spent in a wheelchair during college shows up in the retired detective.
