A Brain in a Skull, A Skull in a Head

On disconnection, on detachment

Sometimes I can feel my brain inside my skull. Can feel my skull inside my head.

I can feel the weight of them, heavy on my neck, balanced like a wish on a flame (no pressure).

Sometimes I say sometimes when I mean today. Easing you in, easing us in.

Today, I can feel my brain in my skull, my skull in my head, my head on my neck.

Today I can feel little else.

This is not a pleasant feeling, I will tell you that much. It makes me wish I could open my head like a music box, let the tinkling tune out, let it play and play until it runs out, runs dry, starts to skip and crackle, until it stops.

There is something happening in there. I don’t know what it is, but it is happening. Something is being figured out, healed, fixed, rewired, reworked. I try to trust it. Try to trust that in a day or two I will be blissfully unaware of my own brain again (in skull, in head, on neck). Try and try to move through time (second minute hour) like a person and not a vessel, not the computer itself but the case that carries the parts: the motherboard, the wires, the coolant stopping it all from going up in flames.

I know there is chaos, I know I carry it. I do not want to be the box that holds the chaos. (I want to be the chaos.) I want to connect, but I’m locked out, password forgotten.

This time, at least, I have a secret. I’ll share it with you. This time, I know it will end. I know I will crack the code and get in, hack my way through skin and skull and reconnect.

I know I will feel like one complete being again, and soon. I know this will happen again, I know I will overcome it again. I know I will write again without mixing too many metaphors and oversharing. But today I am locked out, today I am a music box sealed shut, a computer case on fire, today I am nobody (who are you?). Tomorrow, I will just be ok. Just ok. Delicious ok. Cooling ok. Soothing ok. Tomorrow, I will connect.

Meg

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