The Deluge: Day 2

4 10 2009

I can bear it yes, but damn it’s too heavy.

I tried to sleep but my trying was futile. I clutched my head in my hands. I tried not to think but heaves of thoughts just kept barraging me. In my head everything spun and twisted, things didn’t make sense. How in the world did a high ground have a raging flood. Water should not have reached me.

I spent the entire night lying down and listening to the street that has become a river. I recalled the ghastly scene that ate half of my house; the ridiculous damage. Through it all I felt hungry. I tried looking for something to eat. I have canned foods but the opener is somewhere in the accidental pool that’s my first floor.  Perhaps floating , just like the many things I left. I rummaged through my bag. I have a half eaten bag of chips … I was saved for the meantime. There was a slight self pity creeping in, I was cold, in the dark and eating a stale Chippy – the vision still haunts me. So this is how it feels to be marooned.

I was a citizen defeated.

The hole in my stomach is defined now; I lost things in a matter of hours. Things I hold dear. I still could not understand how the hell I got into this mess. Or better yet, who the blasted got me into this? I was a study in lost. Lost as to where to start, how to process things and how to pick up the pieces of the huge gapping hole in my stomach. The part that kills me is that someone knew this was going to happen. That people will have to fare losing properties and that people will probably die. But no warnings came and worse, no real-time rescue. If the choppers that I’ve constantly heard flying above are meant to save, then their reactive actions are nothing more than a plug to contain a gapping hole.

The morning broke with me feeling tired having to endure a sleepless night; constantly getting up every few minutes to check if the water is creeping up my stairs. I’ll admit, I’m scared. If I had to swim I would but I needed to be aware of it and not be woken up by water slithering in my sheets. One surprise is enough.

Sunday, September 27

5:30am: I took another peak out the window. The streets are still not passable. It smells like shit (no pun intended) and the river/ street is still alive.

6am: I made a decision to stay in bed. I will not bother myself to assess the damages. The feeling of lose was still too strong in my head.

9am: I woke up with my mom moving around the room. She was trying to put some order in the chaos. I was still too tired to care and I think I’m coming down with something. A part of me is still waiting to wake up from this hellish nightmare.

11:30am: I was awoken by a noise outside. Low flying choppers. The stupid government is known to be reactive, what a shitty way of showing that they are doing something. There would not be a need for this if they sent us a decent warning. I’m sure the f****d up President slept well in her dry warm un-flooded palace.

1:30pm: There was no reason not to try. With or without water I need to get up and pick up the pieces. The rain has finally decided to stop and perhaps it’s time for me to start with action. Trouble or no trouble, I am fighting this. I do not expect rescue from anyone else. I can achieve that all by myself. Fight or flight Jean? You made that choice yesterday, so stick with it.

2pm: Fight. I didn’t know that my grip on sanity was that strong. I moved around my second floor arranging things so I can move around freely. The bruises in my arm and legs need not pile up. I wrote down a game plan that included a shopping list for cleaning, food and potable water. I took a mental note of what time I will start my Monday. There was a need to start it strong. Things are coming with clarity now. I achieved to remain. When fear shook me, out came the fighter.

2:30pm: Before the flood I was reading a book. I think it would be smart to pick it up again plus it would also help me relax by veering my thoughts away from the confusion. I went back to bed and started reading. I had to block the feeling of hopelessness and defeat with the one thing I’m good at. But my gnawing hunger is becoming stronger. I can’t remember my last decent meal.

3:00pm: The left over from yesterday’s lunch is still okay. It’s cold and stale but I gave myself no choice. I ate slowly and pondered further on how this whole thing can be remedied. It was bad enough that I was caught in this, now I have to experience going hungry without a cure.

It was bad enough that I was a victim of a gross misconduct but did I have to be a longsuffering victim too? I guess not. Although the flood made so many things in my head out of place, barely understandable and topsy-turvy, I could still see through it. Monday will be different. I’d be well rested – both body and mind – I’ll try to put this whole thing the right side up.

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