Tristful.

Image by huskyherz on Pixabay.

Tristful is an archaic word that means to be melancholy or full of sadness. Like forswunk and forwallowed, it is a word which is said to be obsolete now, but it is so beautiful that I want to bring it back. 

It came into the English language, as many words did, courtesy of the Normans and the Plantagenets, in medieval times.  The Latin word tristis gave French the word triste, which gave English trist meaning sad or gloomy, and thus tristful. 

I discovered this word today while looking for words to describe my feelings and state of mind at this point in my grief journey. Over the past few days, I have been feeling as though everything is too hard, and I just want to withdraw into my cocoon and wallow. I’m not angry, nor am I ungrateful, but I am definitely not numb. My emotions are very close to the surface, and at times I am unable to hold back the tears. 

I know all of that is completely natural, and I know I need to accept it and work through it. I know it won’t last forever.

But I also needed the words to understand and express my emotions. 

I have been using the term ‘melancholy’ a lot, and it describes my condition perfectly. However, I know that while one cannot actually wear a word out, it is entirely possible to cheapen it with overuse. Melancholy is a word that I love because it is so expressive, and because it’s beautiful to say and to hear, so I would hate to be guilty of turning it into a cliche. 

Sad isn’t deep enough. Miserable would be appropriate, but it feels more temporary and somehow more minor than what I am experiencing. 

I very quickly rejected morose and in a funk because both suggest sullenness or a bad mood, which is not reflective of my feelings or state of mind. Moody was no better.

When I saw tristful listed in my thesaurus under the entry for melancholy, I had an immediate sense of having discovered a gem that most people had laid aside and forgotten about. As I researched its meaning and etymology, I knew I had discovered the perfect alternative. 

Tristful: to be melancholy or full of sadness. #words #emotions #etymology #English #blogpost

Forwallowed.

Forwallowed is a very old, but very relevant, word.

image by Alexas_Fotos on Pixabay

Having successfully incorporated ‘forswunk’ into my vocabulary and introduced it to my friends and family, I am delighted to have discovered another word equally useful as a fibromyalgia sufferer. 

Forwallowed’ is an archaic word from the 15th century that means ‘weary from tossing and turning all night’. 

Not only is it perpetually relevant to my life, it sounds and feels beautiful when spoken. 

It is one of those words that evokes the sadness and tiredness of the very feeling it expresses, both physically and mentally, almost like a form of emotional onomatopoeia.  

It seems so versatile and germane that I don’t understand why it ever fell out of fashion. Forwallowed is a wonderfully expressive word that deserves to be brought back into regular use.

Mission accepted. 

Forwallowed: an old but highly relevant word that deserves to be brought back.
#words #englishvocabulary #englishtips #vocabulary #blogpost

And On The Third Night, She Slept

Never underestimate the blessing of sleep!

Two nights of almost zero sleep had left me way beyond forswunk and very near completely useless by Thursday afternoon. 

A frequent flier on Air Insomnia, I have been through this before. I’ve always been a lousy sleeper, and ever since chronic back pain and fibromyalgia became part of my life, they have always been quick to join the party and keep me awake long after I wish to be unconscious.

So, as I have done so many times before, I just kept going. I taught my classes with the same degree of professionalism and confidence that I demonstrate every other day, with the help of only marginally more caffeine than usual. 

Once classes were done and my work for the day was finished, my recliner was my refuge. I put on a podcast and closed my eyes… and still didn’t sleep. Discouraged but comfortable, I just stayed there and rested… like I had a choice. 

A very early night was definitely in order, and I made sure I got one. Still awake at 11pm, I tried not to think about the state I would be in after another sleepless night. That kind of thinking doesn’t help anyone fall asleep, ever. So, I closed my eyes, listened to my regular radio program, and tried to slow my breathing and my thoughts. 

I drifted off at some point after midnight. Seven glorious hours later, I woke up when my alarm went off. 

Such relief! I feel so much more able to do what the day demands and meet any challenges that might come along. 

There is a reason they use sleep deprivation as torture, after all. It can be physically painful and psychologically overwhelming. I’m so thankful for the sleep I got last night, and I certainly hope that particular cycle of insomnia is finished. 

And now, I go once more unto the breach, dear friends. Online classes, lesson planning and my email inbox await me, and I must imitate the action of the tiger. 

Forswunk.

Forswunk is a very old word that might just be my new favourite expression.

Last night I wrote about how tired I was after my first day of teaching my classes remotely

I’m disappointed now that I used the words ‘exhausted’ and ‘so tired’, because today I discovered an absolutely brilliant word I could have used instead: forswunk

Forswunk is an adjective that means exhausted by hard work, or overworked.  The verb is forswink: to tire or exhaust through labour. 

Both are words from Middle English. I don’t even care that the Collins English Dictionary says these words are now obsolete. ‘Forswunk’ is a fabulous word and I’m going to use it.

To say “man, I am completely and utterly forswunk” is a much more expressive way to say that you’re “tired” or “beat” or “worn out” or “done in”. The only term that really comes close is the Australian vernacular term “knackered” which pretty much means the same thing. 

So, if you hear someone saying they are knackered, meaning super tired, they’re probably  Australian. 
And if you hear an Australian saying they’re forswunk, it’s probably me.