Hi. Due to my health, I’m taking an extended break from writing. Due to the nature of ME/CFS, I have no idea how long this break will last. Today, I’m sending a personal message from the float tank. Thank you for being here.
Hi, I was just crying in the float tank. This illness is brutal. One of my favorite words to use for this damn illness is brutal. It's brutal. It's M-Fing brutal. I haven't been writing lately. It's been really rough. I haven't been writing. I haven't been well enough to write. So instead, I'm giving you a report from the float tank.
But I want to start with some good news. On New Year's Eve, my daughter's boyfriend called me. His name is Andy. He called me and we had just the sweetest conversation. He asked for my blessing to ask my daughter to marry him that night. At midnight, on the on the rooftop of a Brooklyn apartment, Andy asked Hallie to marry him. And now they're engaged. She said, Yes. And interestingly, Hallie's birthday is on January 1st. So it all happened at the same time. At midnight, the fireworks went off, it became Hallie's birthday. And she became engaged. I was smitten. or whatever the word is... I was really happy.
Alright, back to the brutal-ness of this illness. No, I was just kidding. The one thing I'm really struggling with is just my sense of purpose. I'm mostly in bed. I'm not bedridden. Someone encouraged me not to use the word bedridden. I'm not bedridden. Bedridden implies that you need help toileting and you need help out of the bed. But I am bed-based. I'm bed-based, and I spend a lot of time in bed... a lot of time writhing in bed in discomfort -- trying to get comfortable. And when I'm not in bed, I'm in the float tank. I'm living here by myself... which is brutal. It's brutal. It is M-F'ing brutal.
But I'm gonna give you these weekly reports until I start writing again. Hopefully that will happen. You know that writing was giving me purpose. Three times a day, I was writing for an hour and I was writing these stories and my Substack was giving me purpose. But now I'm not able to write. I'm so ill. And I'm laughing and everything, but it's just been really rough.
Happy, Happy New Years. By the way, happy holidays. Happy New Year's I missed you over the holidays. This is just gonna be a brief check- in just to let you know that I'm still surviving. And I care about you. And I want you to know, I'm still here. Maybe I'll add something more but
I just wanted to express that sense of purpose. Always before I was busy non stop. I mean, you should have seen me! You should have seen me. I had ensembles every night, I was directing. I was playing ping pong three nights a week. I was running a show This Moment in Music three times a week. I always had ideas going. And I was always working on five different projects. And now I've got nothing going on. I play Go. I play a game of Go in the afternoo and that's like my big thing that I do. And it's kind of depressing. It's like, oh, this is what my life has come to. And then I played Yahtzee with my sisters. That was actually fun. But it's like... I'm the guy at home who's in bed playing Yahtzee. And it's just such a radical shift from what I'm used to. It's like my old self is no longer there. And I have to redefine myself and that's what I've been working on. That's what I've been working on -- is redefining myself.
But anyway, maybe that's all I'll say for now, but I'm going to keep these reports coming. I'm thankful for laughing. It's been a while since I've laughed and laughing is good. All right, all the best to you. Hang in there. Enjoy living in that body of yours today. No Seriously I mean seriously just for one day give me a normal body for one day all right Happy Holiday. Happy Happy New Year bye bye.
From the Float Tank 3