Accepting Wrong

51-2017-01-05-23-23-12Sometimes I feel wrong.
And I don’t know how.
Just wrong.

It is not always easy to tell
What I need to do
To feel better.

I try moving and stimming,
Lights and soft fabrics,
But still wrong.

I look at my weighted blanket
And my compression clothes.
My skin recoils.

Maybe I’m hungry and need food?
So I go to the fridge,
And feel ill.

I probably need a meltdown.
I’m probably anxious.
Maybe.

Upcoming social events,
Assignments and commitments,
Already pressing.

Ongoing situation with assessment.
Still constantly flashing in my head.
Tough times.

Pushing myself in recent days.
All takes its toll.
Uses energy.

I listen to my body and ask what to do.
It just says it feels wrong.
No more detail.

There are feelings of something
But impossible to know
What they are.

Sometimes I feel wrong.
And there is nothing to do.
But live with it.

And wait…

***

About half an hour after I wrote those words I heard a bit of a kerfuffle going on in one of the rat cages. I went to see what was going on and opened my mouth to say “Hey dudes, what’s doing?” or similar, as I would usually do.

The words were gone. Completely. No possibility of producing comprehensible speech.

Fortunately rats don’t care about words. They respond to any sounds.

But I discovered what the wrong feeling was.

Impending loss of words.

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