I am a very visual person. I process and understand things better when I see them visually. Once I've seen it I understand it and then I start to analyse it.
I see the ocean in front of me, the perfect majestic extent of the ocean in all of its blue splendour. A multitude of blue colours extending into the panoramic view before me. The opulence of the white crest breaking on each wave dances just for me.
I smell the fresh salt permeating from the shells that are hugging the rocks, I hear the staccato of the seagulls and it nods me into a trance like state.
I feel the sharp tickle of the sand beneath my bare feet. My senses are heightened and enveloped.
This is the scene that I see and process on a conscious level, but then I start to analyse it.
My subconscious kicks in the cogs of my brain whirring and churning for something to feed it, something to process and analyse. Like the Venus fly trap the subconscious seeks to devour.
Beyond the beautiful scene before me my eye spots a sign a dull dismal looking sign, but a sign none the less. On it are two simple words: FOR SALE. This is fodder for the subconscious, something to keep it active while I enjoy the beauty before me.
The cogs in my brain begin to process those two words, those eight letters. Swirling them in my mind, looping them, playing with them, forming new words. Nothing concrete and definitive but simple mind acrobatics. It's how my mind works. Once that sign has been digested my eyes find another sign or a number plate and my subconscious is happy again.
Masses and masses of information, useless information is processed through the subconscious in my mind keeping it churning throughout the day. It is neither a chore nor a burden to me as it keeps me sharp and my mind active. My mind cannot remain dormant. When I am not working my mind needs to be kept active. I am happiest when I am working and active.
During chemo there is a disparity between normality and reality. You see and feel all the same things but you can no longer process them as well as before. It is like being in a dream and you distort what's in your head with what is actually with you in the here and the now.
I am super conscious of everything in my head after chemo. Some of my senses are heightened. I cannot tolerate very sweet smells, I can taste every molecule of the water that I drink and cannot stomach it. The thoughts in my head are amplified.
My eye sight becomes dulled - not so much because I cannot see but because the cloud in my brain is projecting through my eyes and I see the world through a murky haze.
This is when I am at my unhappiest. There is nothing to see and I need to process things visually.
The cogs in my brain are heightened and churning things at a tremendous pace but with nothing to see visually there are sheets and sheets of blank pages being processed through my head and this is where my main frustration lies.
You can talk to me and somewhere in my head I hear your voice and understand the question but my mind is fixated on itself. I will answer, usually with a short reply and then revert back to my inner self.
It feels like I'm trapped in my body with no means of escape. The shackles of my mind have trapped me in my head.
Time becomes an issue for me. Time passes so slowly when you are trapped in your head. I try to do small chores, little mundane things around the house to occupy my mind and to pass the time. I cannot focus on anything more as it becomes too difficult.
I am not hard on myself over this time as it only causes more frustration and anxiety. I have had two cycles now and know a little more about what to expect but I know enough to understand that each time will be different and to allow myself the downtime and reduced pace even if my subconscious doesn't like it!
I see the ocean in front of me, the perfect majestic extent of the ocean in all of its blue splendour. A multitude of blue colours extending into the panoramic view before me. The opulence of the white crest breaking on each wave dances just for me.
I smell the fresh salt permeating from the shells that are hugging the rocks, I hear the staccato of the seagulls and it nods me into a trance like state.
I feel the sharp tickle of the sand beneath my bare feet. My senses are heightened and enveloped.
This is the scene that I see and process on a conscious level, but then I start to analyse it.
My subconscious kicks in the cogs of my brain whirring and churning for something to feed it, something to process and analyse. Like the Venus fly trap the subconscious seeks to devour.
Beyond the beautiful scene before me my eye spots a sign a dull dismal looking sign, but a sign none the less. On it are two simple words: FOR SALE. This is fodder for the subconscious, something to keep it active while I enjoy the beauty before me.
The cogs in my brain begin to process those two words, those eight letters. Swirling them in my mind, looping them, playing with them, forming new words. Nothing concrete and definitive but simple mind acrobatics. It's how my mind works. Once that sign has been digested my eyes find another sign or a number plate and my subconscious is happy again.
Masses and masses of information, useless information is processed through the subconscious in my mind keeping it churning throughout the day. It is neither a chore nor a burden to me as it keeps me sharp and my mind active. My mind cannot remain dormant. When I am not working my mind needs to be kept active. I am happiest when I am working and active.
During chemo there is a disparity between normality and reality. You see and feel all the same things but you can no longer process them as well as before. It is like being in a dream and you distort what's in your head with what is actually with you in the here and the now.
I am super conscious of everything in my head after chemo. Some of my senses are heightened. I cannot tolerate very sweet smells, I can taste every molecule of the water that I drink and cannot stomach it. The thoughts in my head are amplified.
My eye sight becomes dulled - not so much because I cannot see but because the cloud in my brain is projecting through my eyes and I see the world through a murky haze.
This is when I am at my unhappiest. There is nothing to see and I need to process things visually.
The cogs in my brain are heightened and churning things at a tremendous pace but with nothing to see visually there are sheets and sheets of blank pages being processed through my head and this is where my main frustration lies.
You can talk to me and somewhere in my head I hear your voice and understand the question but my mind is fixated on itself. I will answer, usually with a short reply and then revert back to my inner self.
It feels like I'm trapped in my body with no means of escape. The shackles of my mind have trapped me in my head.
Time becomes an issue for me. Time passes so slowly when you are trapped in your head. I try to do small chores, little mundane things around the house to occupy my mind and to pass the time. I cannot focus on anything more as it becomes too difficult.
I am not hard on myself over this time as it only causes more frustration and anxiety. I have had two cycles now and know a little more about what to expect but I know enough to understand that each time will be different and to allow myself the downtime and reduced pace even if my subconscious doesn't like it!