There's possibly an infinite number of things running through my mind, my brain is very alert, in the high-speed firing mode, and yet I can't think of a suitable title for this post.
My grandma is sick. She's been sick for some time now, and been in and out of the hospital. Last night, they said she was in a critical condition. She couldn't recognise anyone, and all I got when I called her was a brief, blank stare. I am unable to describe that feeling inside. I am unable to comprehend how the 'adults' can remain calm and light-hearted - for the sake of my grandma, no doubt. I was so unable to master the art of hiding emotions, I was reduced to blinking twice as much as usual, that my stubborn tears would remain inside my eyes; to periodically glance around the gloomy ward, at the flourescent lights, at the softly-squeaking fans, to take my eyes away from the face I never imagined could be so thin, so worn, that my heart could keep from being overwhelmed.
My mother mused about life - she said once we got old, we'd just be, waiting for death to come. It was very gloomy talk, though no more gloomy than all the other conversations. I'd heard talk about what they needed to do, who they ought to contact, once she's passed. I'd heard talk about the cost of funerals. I understand that they were only preparing for the eventually inevitable; I understand that plans must be discussed, must be made, but still, it depressed me to no end.
At times, when conversations around me start moving in directions I don't intend to go, I find myself drifting off to another place. That place is exclusive for me, in my mind, where beings of my imagination behave the way I like, say to me things I love to hear, and react to what I say in the way I deem ideal. And I kinda like it that when I want to, I could regard everything that goes on around me as white noise, and exist only in my own dimension with the actually non-existent beings in my mind.
How close is that to insanity? Do the insane, before they went insane, know they were heading that way? Do you actually see your sensible, logical mind slipping away, and stand powerless to stop it? Perhaps not powerless, but unwilling?
"I do not suffer from insanity; I enjoy every moment of it"
This morning saw my grandma a lot better. She called my mother's name and could recognise me. When I held her hand, she squeezed my fingers in hers. She could not talk much, but she could respond to talk by nodding and shaking her head. 'This morning' is in the actual sense referring to the morn of yesterday, 7th June, for it is now past midnight.
My fingernails badly need a trim.