Things here are on a let’s take it one day at a time basis. Each day seems to be manageable, but when I think about the stack of days ahead, I often get overwhelmed.
Pain, or rather the anticipation of pain, is a bastard. Or bitch if you prefer the feminine derogatory. Or if you’d rather it be neither male or female and not tied to one’s parentage, then I’ll gladly call it an asshole. Really, I think pain, at least in my case, chronic pain is a bully that controls through intimidation and meted out punishment of varying intensity. Of course, I’m a strong willed idiot and will often goad the bully by indulging in too many dark chocolate covered almonds or salt, pepper, vinegar cashews (OMG, they are good.) So it’s an ongoing set of skirmishes in a war that I’m ultimately going to lose.
There is yet a story to tell of how chronic pain tolled the final death knell for my marriage. Much, much to write about 2020-2021. To skip ahead momentarily.
Friends who have seen you through something like marriage and divorce are a precious thing. I know I’m about to sound like some sort of yogi quack, but here’s my take on it. Family isn’t guaranteed, but there’s an almost non severable underground binding between you and family. Like you’re the rebar in the foundation laid together in concrete. Friends, on the other hand, are the above ground structures that work with you to withstand the natural disasters of life. When they are still there after a tornado whips through, it feels like a miracle… and it’s good to cherish that and to feel reassured that you have that. I know, blah, blah, positivity nonsense, blah, blah. I just know that when I am sitting naked on the floor of the shower, the saline of my tears washing away the questioning of what I have to give, I consider that there are people – truly spectacular people – who choose to spend time with me. Why would they do that if there wasn’t something they found worthy? That thought is fortifying.