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EP 7. in the wake of my leave

  • maevesmartin
  • Dec 26, 2025
  • 5 min read

I woke up at some secret hour last night to find a pair of nail scissors tangled in my hair. They usually sit upon my nightstand, which sits about ten centimetres to the side of my bed. This implies I somehow, amidst my slumber, have moved my head in a way that would allow my hair to pick up a pair of blades and hold them close to my scalp. Even in sleep my body works against me. I never used to be much of a tosser or a turner. I tend to lie very still, and wake exactly where I started. But lately I have found myself in new unforeseen positions, and with new possessions in my own hairs grasp. 


Increasingly throughout the year, I have found myself waking up and immediately panicking, unable to help but feel like I've "forgotten" something. It's this sort of crushing feeling that sits right atop my chest up near my neck, and it reaches its steady hands deep into my sternum holding onto my guts. I used to only feel like this when I went to bed, every night certain that this would be my last time. I don't like that I start the day like this now too, it lingers steadily throughout the morning, simmers in the afternoons and kicks back in around 5.30. I panic on my walk home from work and often have to sit very still when I get home, so as not to disturb myself. I've found myself wondering if it will always be like this.


Recently, I braved my way to the doctors office. I found a nice new one, a gentle Scottish woman with an accent so steady and sure of itself it comes off remarkably calming. It was even calming when she offered up the possibility of my ailments being linked to something of a brain tumour, or the having of conscious seizures. I then spent the week leading up to my MRI coming to hypothetical terms with a lot of hypothetical things very quickly. And then I felt terribly guilty when I thought to myself that maybe a brain tumour would be my best case scenario. I thought about every single possible outcome. Death and taxes right? Not much I can do about either. 


I don't have a brain tumour. Nor do I have any form of hidden epilepsy. In fact the word they used to describe my brain was "unremarkable". Ouch. I looked at the imaging with my mother and she said my brain looked "smoother than it should". Also ouch? Anyways this means that my condition is not physiological in nature, and will not have any sort of straight cut treatment options. This means I have to do real emotional labour to pursue "wellness".


My dreams have also been becoming more lucid. I thin my unprecedented movement can be attributed to this. My dreams have almost always been lucid. I have always been hyper aware that when I am asleep I am in fact asleep. But my dreams are often more vivid than I want them to be, and because I am so conscious I often wake up feeling the complete opposite of well rested. Despite my lucidity, I am often unable to actually do the taking charge and controlling part of the often sought after lucid dreaming. I stay trapped in the body that almost feels like mine saying lines that almost feel like they could have come out of my mouth. This also makes me panic. And is particularly worse when the dream is of the nightmare variety. 


Several months ago, I had this dream I was in harms way. Every time I thought I was to die, I just wouldn't, and I wouldn't wake up either. I knew it wasn't real and after I gave up on trying to wake myself up I just stayed there. Blank faced as I took a falsehood of blows of psychological damages over and over. I had a lot of dreams like this. 


I've had a good year, overall, and despite the near constant panic. And I apologise for not writing to you for most of it. Every time I tried, I found that everything felt too personal, and I wanted to keep it to myself. I don't know why this, now, doesn't feel too personal. I guess it's the brain blog so this all seems somewhat fitting to put online. Aside from all of the brain things, let me share some other tidbits of the year.


Last we spoke, I was procrastinating packing up my old room. Now, nine months later I write to you from my fancy new green couch that sits in my living room. I get so much natural light in my apartment that I don't need to turn on any lights, except in my bathroom, until the sun is well and truly set. These days that is around nine o'clock in the evening. My electricity bill thanks me for it. It is a marvellous thing to live alone. I left the ice cream factory, which forced me to develop a more well rounded personality. In saying that, I actually have gone back to the ice cream factory for the holiday season, allowing myself to slip back into what was sort of my "one thing" I had going for me for a while. These days I work in a tofu shop. I do not make tofu, but I make many other delicious things which are just as good as tofu. I played my first gig, courtesy of a dear friend for organising it. I don't think that I played particularly well, but everyone was nice to me about it so I suppose it couldn't have been that bad. I promised myself that next time I would be better, and I think that is the kind of promise that I can keep.


I've had a lot more time this year to sort out being a person. I think being "adult" is somewhat of an illusion, but I'm getting there. Maybe. I'd like to transcribe for you a diary entry of mine from sometime back in November. 


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i have been putting in a lot more effort to fill my cup. the gratification is simultaneously instant and also delayed. this feels good. i finished reading gatsby. it was fine. i have been watching more films, listening to more music, writing my own, practising guitar, sewing, doing things by myself. supposedly how you spend your days is how you spend your life. makes sense. i took myself to the beach today. i've been thinking a lot about how i want to spend my life. it is possible that i gave already finished a quarter of it. am i pleased with how i've spent it thus far? i'm not sure. it would be kind to say yes, so i will choose to be kind. i think that's how i want to spend my life. being kind. if i am remembered by nothing else, i hope that what they say about me is that i was kind. i want to spend my life loving and being loved. creating and taking in what others have created. to resonate. to do it scared and be just as brave. i want to learn and to understand. i want to find a passion, something that really drives me, not just because i feel like i don't have another option. maybe the thing that drives me is finding the good. but what's the fate of that? i want to care. i do care. so i think i'm already doing a good job. i am doing okay. it's easy to forget that. goodnight. 


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I am sure will write to you sooner than last time. But I hope you are well, and I hope that you, like I am, are persevering against it all. Because there's nothing else to do really. Good luck.

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