My silence is because I'm in a bad place.
|My Guard Cat, Jack.|
2014 has been crap so far. My cat, Spike, died after nearly a year of twice-a-day insulin injections, complications, and a rather quick demise. And then I fell in the shower (not a slip and fall, just gravity exerting itself on me) on what was supposed to be an awesome night (Alton Brown Live!).
I now go to physical therapy twice a week to address the lingering issues. Yesterday, my therapist kicked my ass. She was testing the range of motion in my hips as well as the alignment of my back and hips. Result? I need a tune-up. I came home from PT feeling a bit nauseated (pain does that), with a mild headache, and all I wanted was to crawl in bed. I woke up this morning more sore and in more pain than last night.
I try to be a happy, upbeat person, but at this point I've been dealing with back injuries for half my life (I first injured my back when I was 16 and I'm 32 now). There are going to be days where optimism is just not a choice; it requires too much energy and rose-colored blinders. There are days when optimism gives way to not pessimism but doubt and resentment.
This past weekend, Facebook and Twitter were abuzz with springtime races, family photos from gatherings, baby announcements, vacation photos, honeymoon photos, engagement announcements. I doubt whether I'll ever be able to shift from the day-to-day struggles to actually being able to enjoy life. It's hard to think about things like dating, or the possibility of marriage and/or kids when I'm struggling to put on my underwear or having to psych myself up to picking up something that I've dropped.
The resentment doesn't look good on me. But I am resentful of having to celebrate everyone else's [life achievement]. I want some celebrations of my own. I want some landmarks and announcements. I want people to look at me and my life and think that I've got it all. I don't want people to look at me and my life and think that I'm as miserable as I feel...cause I already think that.