Weaver for Wilbur

Here I go again taking Kava extract. This is my weapon. Of course, my first defensive weapon is prayer but sometimes I need more than one weapon. A tight knot develops over time around my heart area, except on intense occasions when it happens so fast. If I am a weaver, then I am a weaver of strings of emotions and I make sure I tie all strings pretty strong so they don’t come apart. When they do, the strings will go everywhere. I will prove myself one unskilled weaver.

The effectiveness of Kava at situations like that is pretty instant. I just take a few drops of it, and soon I feel the tension around my chest dissolve fast. I mean, it’s probably still there, but I am no longer able to feel it as much. I haven’t done Kava much since I got back from Hawaii. I relied on this tiny little bottle during my last episode in Hawaii just to get through the day at work. By then, I was only working 3 days a week, instead of 5. I was exhausted by Monday and I still had two more days to go. Sleep was very scarce during those times. I would wake up at 2 am. Then it was 1 am and soon I was waking up at midnight. I would grab my itouch and play “Sleep will come” by Bliss, and I would tell myself in the darkness ‘I will sleep when I’m dead.’ Then I am horrified because I soon realize that I wish I were dead already. That’s when I turn the light on, and start typing on my computer. All these words, nonsense though they may be, but those are saving words to me. Writing saved me. Writing was praying. Writing was everything– though now, God took over that place Writing once lived.

Upon seeing my little Kava bottle, my co-worker asked me what I was taking. She jokingly said, “I won’t tell anyone.” I offered my bottle for her to try. I told her that it’s something I discovered in Hawaii. There was a Kava bar right behind the coffee bar I used to manage. My friend E and I used to go there quite frequently. It was our favorite joint in town, especially after we both quit drinking alcohol. She took me there several times after my panic attack episodes. We would go drink earthy tasting kava juice served in a coconut shell, and I would listen to JK, the Hawaiian middle aged man who started that bar in the 80’s. He had the most amazing advice every time.

“Wow, it really does numb my tougue. I like it. I know I’m weird. But I really like it.”, She said. She was rolling her tongue in fast-paced way, making funny faces, and that made me laugh out loud. That hurt my already tight chest. “Ouch, it hurts…” I frowned, massaging my heart area. She gave me a concerned look, and I know we’ve made a connection. She’s by far my favorite worker at my new job. She speaks from her heart, and she walks around with her heart all exposed. She’s a tough girl, all manned up in all situations. J probably meant for me to be more like her when he told me to cowboy up. I got a lot to learn from her. But on this day, I taught her a little bit about Kava. I know this thing. I know about Kava more than I know about Coffee.

The fact that I am up at 1 am the day after kava worries me. This is my second night where I am up at these odd hours. The funny thing is, I keep trying to scan for any signs of my depression or hypo. It feels great, of course, to be depression-free on this beautiful fall day but at the same time, it feels strange. I know I’m weird, but that’s the truth. But no matter how much I try to go back to feeling depressed because I am so used to that pattern, it’s just not going to happen. It’s not within my will power to replicate depression.

Like a laboratory rat in a spinning wheel, spinning and spinning tireless because that’s all he knows, I keep trying to get back on the wheel and spin. But no, I am no spinner, I am a weaver, weaving this masterpiece of my life, the God-created life. And I hope my weaving will mean something one day, like Charlotte’s did for Wilbur. And though that Wilbur was no flying pig, but he was “some pig” “terrific” “radiant” and “humble” according to Charlotte. And those few words Charlotte wove– saved Wilbur’s life. I know I already saved one life with my words. I saved me.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s