It’s a shitty day.
The pain in my back from the tearing muscles is worse. Of course it is. That’s what FM is largely about…..all those micro (or not so micro) tears in the muscles, the lactic acid, the burning pain. Always worse the day after.
Is it some kind of childlike eternal optimism, or encroaching senility that causes me to be perpetually (every goddam time!!) surprised and disappointed when the pain gets worse before it gets better??
Kind of like my little Zoe, who always has to run in and tell us loudly whenever she gets caught in the rain. Each time she sounds so indignant and needs so much reassurance, each time it is like she never got rained on before.
I feel the need to stretch, but daren’t. I know it will hurt enough for my vision to fuzz at the edges and make me shout.
It pisses me off. Every time. I will never get used to it. To get used it would be to accept it, and if you accept it you stop fighting it. And when you stop fighting an illness like FM, the decline begins.
My Dad had a ‘keep fighting’ attitude to adversity. He was stubborn too. That’s how he pulled himself back from near disaster…..with no medication or help from the social. We loved him, he loved us, and so he got stubborn and determined and fought, for the people he loved. He was successful.
There’s always a way. I remember hearing that said. You just have to look hard enough. You just have to find it. It’s true as well.
Then – you just have to have agreement.
And there’s the rub. The stumbling block. That is where and how you sort the wheat from the chaff. The agreement part. It’s where you sort the men from the boys. The weak from the strong. The brave from the cowards. The worthy…..from the rest.
You dont give up on things you love.
Not if you are brave. Not if it matters to you.
If you get agreement, that’s ok.
My body doesn’t agree with me. I say we should be doing! My body says fuck off. So we battle, constantly.
But is it a way to “live”? Barely.
Is it a way to be happy? Definitely not!! Who wants to spend their life in constant combat?
Overall, I am not even in search of happiness. But peace would be good. In all areas.
Because fighting……is tiring. So is not giving up.
They call death the eternal sleep, don’t they. And when the physical pain gets this bad…..sleep is an escape from it, as well as an attempt to heal. Sleep is the bliss that takes it all away. Unconscious…..you do not feel.
It’s the same with emotional pain. With heartbreak and hurt. Sleep is a relief.
What, then…..when your battle becomes such that you fight the eternal peace you crave? What are you actually fighting for? To keep the pain? Because that’s what it equates to. Eternal sleep? Or endless pain?
What tips the balance?
Is it hope? Is it love? Is it being loved?
I have well reasoned arguments against all of those.
The hope? Weigh the multitude of hopes against the hope of permenant relief.
Love? You do not hurt the ones you love. You protect them, as best you can. Or you should – if you love them. Weigh one lot of hurt against decades of multiple, repeated hurts.
Being loved? This probably offers the greatest incentive…but it’s selfish. And doesn’t apply to me, anyway.
If I was loved, had been loved, so much would be different.
That it was consciously, deliberately so, and with no apparent remorse or regret, however, will always say more about them than me.
So…..that excludes even that from the equation.
Today is definitely an ugly day.
Because today……I just want…the pain to stop.