Smoggy sadness

Day 24: Home for Christmas

Sinus congestion sometimes presents as toothache. It’s usually felt in the upper molars but it can also radiate to your lower teeth. Referred pain it’s called, caused by shared nerve pathways. The brain gets confused about the signal's origin and misplaces the pain. The same thing happens with sciatica, when back pain is felt in the calf.

I have a twin. I have always found it strange how we’re able to sense when the other is sad. We stopped living together a long time ago and we don’t text often and there have been numerous occasions where I’ve received a random “I love you” message while bathing in salty tears. There is no scientific backing for this phenomenon. More than likely it’s coincidental. Or maybe we are connected by some secret network within the wider consciousness.

When I am home I feel sadder than I am when I am in London. Smoggy sadness that engulfs my entire being. I’m sleepier than usual. I snack a lot more. I cannot shift myself into gear. It’s almost as if it is darker here. Heavier. I don’t think the sadness belongs to me. It’s referred pain, from some other time or some other person. But my body does not know how to distinguish. So I revert back to my small, snappy self. Disconnected from my being and those around me.

If you cannot tell, I am writing this from inside the smog. And also from outside the smog. Peering through, watching myself, allowing myself.

---

Thank you for reading. This was my last post for the advent series. I’m going to take some time to myself and I’ll be back in January, if not before. I am thinking of taking a more structured approach to Substack in the New Year. (I never know if I am supposed to capitalise ‘New Year’.) Perhaps even giving people the option to become paid subscribers. Who knows.