To be a real girl

Day 3 of the National Health Blog Post Month (NHBPM) is the topic 'I don't know about this, but I'd like to', & today for me that is without a doubt How to be/act/respond like a real, normal, functioning person. A little while back, mom & dad had over a family friend, & of course I told them I would come over the 20 steps through the back yard & spend some time with them. After the fact I came back to my little house wanting to crawl under my pile of clean clothes & never come out. I was deeply embarrassed, & it stung badly. The friend in no way probably meant this at all of course. Here's the humiliating details with names & dates changed for those involved. Well, all but me. O. o 

After staying up all night per my usual painsomnia, I had just gotten to sleep when my alarm went off. I got up, took my morphine which would mean a gap in my normal routine later but that's the cost of doing business in my world. Walking through the back door I saw the friend's face change. Eyebrows raised, shock registering before they could help themselves, & as I went to hug them it was if their body forgot how to hug. Acting as if I hadn't just hugged a marble statue i tried to smile & sat down. The poor friend then blurted out a comment/observation about my appearance, & let me just say it came out the exact opposite of the intended tone. Answering the question, it hit them how it sounded, & as dad started to laugh (as he & I had discussed this just a day or two before) & I was really glad to have an excuse to change the subject. It was truly about as low on the humility scale as i'd ever experienced, & i could feel tears coming, but I managed to hang on to my last bit of dignity & not cry. I also didn't want to make them feel uncomfortable-so i just sat down at the me-painful table. Physically sitting in normal chairs kills me, but I didn't want to make the situation more awkward, so I said nothing & sat as we had a small bite to eat. Getting more & more uncomfortable, I squirmed around like a child. The friend had been going through some tough times, & I had seen something that reminded me of their family & I had made a note to tell them-as I tried to get the words out the lack of sleep, pain becoming more painful, & fibro-fog clouding my brain left a fragment of a sentence hanging out of my mouth. I couldn't make any ordered words continue as they stared at me-totally lost I just stopped talking & thankfully mom's plentiful storytelling continued as I stuck food in my mouth to replace my garbled words. Ugh. A few more just odd/half insult sounding things were said, again-they didn't mean them but regardless-my body couldn't take anymore & my heart was already sagging under my dejected weight, so I released everyone & left, smiling as I said my fake high spirited goodbyes. Sinking into bed Chai bunny got up with me & positioned herself under my hand, waiting to be loved.

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A bit like House, MD

Anyone with chronic pain comes to realize in time that the never ending stabs of constant hurting can & does come out as anger. I loved House, the TV show-though I'm not the crazy puzzle loving jerk I have my moments. Every single time I see my cane I get sad yet angry simultaneously & want to paint racing stripes on it-my sarcasm runs deep. We never mean to lash out, yet we do. Most of us immediately regret it & hate ourselves for letting our pain spill out onto someone else's life. Recently I publicly said some things I regret-as they were spoken out of sadness for the past & friends I used to be able to count on...& took it out on someone who wasn't in that category. My lost past is probably the biggest source of emotional pain I've got. Anyway, I talked to the innocent person & apologized, but I hate that I let my pain hurt him. While I find venting in the right forum helpful, I must remember to spare the innocent ones.

My great uncle's cane matches my Indonesian triangle piece so well...maybe racing stripes aren't the right way to go ;)

 

Caned sadness

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