But for me, now, time has changed.

I can't remember when I've felt under the most intense pressure, for such a long time.  Everything I do is focused on Denise, who as I write this, is seriously ill in hospital.  My whole life activity is directed towards Denise.  Every waking moment is spent around Denise.  I think that is as it should be.  I don't complain about that, rather the opposite.  Denise is the beating heart of my life. Without her, it makes no sense.  Nothing, nothing makes sense.  Including time.

On the micro and macro level, my sense of time has been challenged.  I look at the clock and judge what I can and should be doing in a time span.  That's becoming much more difficult.  On a more theoretical level, I think about the time that I may have left and what that may mean.  None of that gives me any feeling of pleasure.  Time has become purely functional.  I don't take time, I spend it, consume it.

I know I'm rambling.  Maybe I shouldn't be posting about this.  But I decided to write, hoping that the process of doing so would help me give meaning to what is going on.  I'm not yet in a position to say if I've been successful in that.

Extreme pressure is not rare.  Our ability to react in a positive way to it may be.  In my case, time is but one part of my life that has been tremendously affected.  It has been warped, making strange and eerie shapes in my perception.  As I try to retain functionality, it has become more of a battle to organise.  I hope I can win that battle.  I must win it, for Denise.