I’m typing this and it’s blurry. I forgot to mention in my recent update that I’m seeing blurry these days, with double vision on other days. I have an appointment with an ophthalmologist the first Wednesday of April. I was told it would get better. I haven’t seen that yet.
What will I see when I can’t see anymore? What will happen when I can’t see to work anymore? What if these fucked up things that “I remember” are all that I am able to see, in my head? What if I replay them over and over, and over? I think I need slapping right about now. Why would I even think like that? What if I cause it to happen by thinking about it? I feel hysterical.
Okay, I’ll switch gears for a bit, get my shit together. Oh if only.
So often when I think of the past, I think of Marsha Sadler. I’m not sure how it’s spelled, either name to be sure but I do know that was her name. She was a little girl, a few years older than I was, who for some reason unclear to me, spent some afternoons at the house I was raised in; I’m going to guess that the Old Lady baby sat her for a short period of time. I remember she was pretty and wore dresses. I’ve tried dozens of times to find her over the years. I want to know if Uncle Kenneth molested her too. Was that why she stopped being at our house in the afternoons? I don’t remember any controversy but to be fair, I was only six and almost 100% of the time was told to leave the house if adults were talking. You had to be a super spy to learn anything good. Why do I even want to know? I have no clue. It will be just an ordinary day and Marsha Sadler will pop into my head.
I’m fucked up, huh? I admit I believe it’s true. But thoughts are thoughts and I can’t stop them. Oh if only.