Over the last few weeks, I have had times where I cannot speak. It's hard to describe because I do not understand it myself, but I will do my best to explain so that you can perhaps catch a glimpse of what it's like. Today, I was tired. I woke up, had breakfast, took a shower, then laid back down "for a minute". I fell asleep, dreamed pretty steadily, although I do not remember what I dreamed, woke up in a panic when Jason came into the bedroom for something and quickly went back to sleep, only to dream some more. Jason came back into the bedroom a little while later, around 1pm, and again I woke up. This time, I decided I would get up. I got up and struggled to make myself move. I vacuumed the living room (random thing to do fresh from a nap, I know, but I wanted to feel useful), then I decided to go for a walk to try to jump start some endorphins. I thought maybe if I got out in the sun and started walking, my energy would kick back in. Jason was talking to me as I was vacuuming and getting ready for my walk, and I heard every word he said, but it took so much energy to respond that my answers were short and monotone. Mentally, I was fully aware, but it took so much out of me to even speak.
I set out for my walk, but unfortunately, it did not have the effect I wanted. The leaves were so pretty, and I absorbed their beauty and watched as they fell like a downpour from the trees, but as I got about six blocks from the house, I noticed I was walking like a zombie. I wondered what the neighbors would think if they saw me shuffling my feet, with my arms limp at my side, but I kept walking. Then I got overwhelmingly tired. I just wanted to sit down on the edge of the sidewalk and, well, just sit there, but I knew I needed to get home, so I forced myself to keep walking.
When I got home, Jason tried to talk to me and once again, I completely understood what he was saying and wanted to answer, but I couldn't. I answered mentally, with full on sentences as I would if I could speak, but I did not have the energy, or the ability to get the words out of my mouth. Everything else in my body was working fine. I could walk. I could use my arms and hands. Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. I could respond to Jason's cues to squeeze his hand, but I just couldn't get myself to speak. After a couple minutes, however, for whatever reason, my verbal ability came back and I was able to carry on a normal conversation and have been able to speak for the rest of the day.
As I was sitting in church tonight, it dawned on me that when I have met people who appear catatonic, or who answer with mono-syllables, or have a distant look in their eyes, I get really uncomfortable and avoid them, assuming that they aren't able to relate to their environment, but I have decided no more! No matter how people appear on the outside, I am going to assume that they are fully cognizant. I know that not all people have the same experience I do, and that not all people who appear distant are actually fully lucid, but some are, and I don't want to take the chance of hurting someone, or mistreating someone, who is already suffering as a prisoner in a body on the fritz. A little love and compassion can go a very long way.
