Today i woke up after a night of real ACTUAL sleep.
I have been bed ridden (strange expression) for five days, only getting out of bed to go to the bathroom or in two cases to buy juice (keeping my distance and gloves on to minimize the risk of spreading germs).
After a few days i even got some fish soup down before returning to my sweat soaked bed.
Coughing so fall to my knees doesent in any way deter the village idiots (who probably put me here in the first place) from bugging me.
One of them comes here every time he gets pissed on whatever sherry smelling cheap crap he´s drinking (i live in a society with a collected IQ of 18).
What people dont seem to get is that since i, by no volition of my own, am a loner i have no resistance.
That is, what is just a minor cold for others, or them not washing their hands after doing their business will knock me out.
Since i have no friends (as in physical biological entities who have met me and who gives a f*ck ) and only meet a small group of other people ever i never get exposed to normal dozes of viruses and bacteria (thats friendship for ya, they wont even treat me to their bacteria).
My last, non family, non business , personal phonecall was about four years ago (with one exeption who has remained a friend for decades now, despite both of us having lived in other countries). The same goes for E-mails or any other kinds of contacts.
The whole (now strangely kathtarctic ) mess started with some irritating coughing as i weant to bed. I though i might be sensetive to the materal in the pillow or somethng, nothing to bad.
It weant on to fevers followed by chills in episodes, coughing myself uncontrollably into fetal position and making a gurgling bubbly sound when i inhaled.
At one point i dragged myself up to flush cold water over my head (my mom, one of the few who phone me, thought it would have been interesting to see what would have happened if i overheated).
Now i´m eating again . Only soups so far but i´m starting to feel hungry “for real” again so it´s fine.
I have aired the house out (as the cold leaves, the sense of smell reappears. Insult to injury?) and today i let the spring sun in.
The light makes me feel a bit wierd (the changing seasons, which are very clear in Sweden, always has a wierdish effect on me initially but here it is probably the fact that i havent really seen daylight in days).
It s funny too how one thinks as one lays there.
For a while my thoughts wandered away into some speculation regarding my last, very intense ritual and any potential connection between it and my sickness.
Getting sick from theurgic work (or simlar practices) is not necessarily a sign of failure.
Some “shamanic” (in lack of a better term) cultures and traditions even induce naucea, illness and hallucinations as part of their work (DONT experment with this. They have countless generations of experience) and alchemical transmutations presupposes a breaking down of the material, a death and resurection if you will.
It is not like i will repeat the ritual to find out (this ritual was not the repeating kind. There are rituals spanning from routine to….not so routine). Ordeals are part of being a theurge (strangely, even my mom commented on this. She is not a mystic or even the least bit spiritual. She does however have a lot of connections to western Africa which might leave her a bit open to different ways of seeing things).
Regardless, it has been one hell of a one week ride and now i´m enjoying my second day of beng able to drinkl coffee.
I´m fatigued, cough and feel a bit wierd (though not entrely unpleasantly so) but start to bounce back.
I should have developed antibodies to this flu (?) now so…one down.
Ironic that my life is so boring that being sick feels like an interesting variation actually worth writing about.
Even more ironic that i feel so peaceful and harmonic now???
Maybe i just needed to experence something, as oppose to mindnumbing nothingness?
Maybe there is something to sweatlodge? 😉