Is it really ok to just allow myself to be? I’ve been putting off errands for almost a full week because I’m afraid of losing it in public. Having no patience for people is a real thing. I try not to cast my vile mood on others whenever possible, because I really don’t think it’s fair to others. I’d rather snap at people I know, no need to take it out on strangers. <evil smirk> I’ve been paying bills at the very last minute, and just trying to survive.
Most people would say “You’re coping, it’s a process.”, don’t beat yourself up, but what they don’t seem to understand is that I’m doing this all by myself. I came to the realization that I am 100% alone a few days ago and someone acknowledged to me that I am right. But their “lets solve it” answer was for me to “travel while I can”, as if I am suddenly embarking on a trip to Barcelona with my frequent flyer miles. Not happening. In fact, just the thought of flying domestically right now isn’t emotionally in my wheel house.
I’m a great traveler, but I hate the nonsense. I pack my carry-on bag perfectly, happy to get my computer, make-up bag (which gets larger as I get older. Don’t judge me. LOL.), Kindle, and all other items you do NOT EVER want to check, and still be able to zip the damn thing, only for it to be completely dismantled the second I go through security. The TSA damaged my netbook during their adorable little “check out the single woman traveling” expedition. It will cost me more to replace it than it’s worth, yet they’re “not responsible”?! Yeah, I have a word for that too. Also, I got treated like a terrorist at Dallas-Ft. Worth International. If you’ve scanned my bags four times and cannot figure out that a coin purse has coins in it, you need to be doing something else for a living.
Having a support system is really difficult. I have had this issue for years as I cared for my parents, wishing I had more siblings, wishing I could have a break, and then suddenly they were both gone way too young. Almost a full five years later, when you have no one to call after losing someone you love, whomever it is you love, that feels like one of the worst things in the world.
Was this life you loved not loved by others? Probably not as much as you loved that life. Was this love unimportant because you were the one who gave all of your love? No. But it still hurts, and I’m not ok. I keep saying I’m ok, I keep saying I’m fine, and only the truly smart people I know realize that’s not true.
Very few people take the time to read between the lines or to really listen to my voice. If it’s easier for them to say “She’s fine. She’s strong, she’ll be ok.”, then that’s what they’re going to go with because “She’s not really ok.” takes too long for them and their daily lives. Don’t interrupt the shiny, happy people. <rolls eyes>
I can’t dump every little thing I feel on people who cannot physically be here. The one person who is here is so emotionally stumped that it’s like talking to nobody (Seriously, the walls have better answers!). And the nights are the worst.
I start off saying I’ll go to bed early, but then the anxiety, pain, and stress become so heightened that I can’t even focus on rest. I distract myself with a little TV (For the record, The Following is a seriously terrifying, twisted show that I haven’t decided if I should keep watching or delete from the DVR List entirely. Whose brilliant idea was it to air that on a Monday night?! People complain about Dexter, which they have the option of subscribing to or not, but this show is on network TV, has not an ounce of humor to it, it’s just one shocking second after another, and we’re just two episodes in with me saying “I KNEW IT!!”, “This is twisted.” “Oh.My.God.!! Kevin Williamson in a genius.”, “Does this remind anyone of anything?!” Please remind me to stop watching it when I can’t sleep!!). Then I toss, I turn, I get up constantly, I take honey to stave off my allergies and keep me from coughing all night long, and then I curse my doctor for taking me off medication that my body clearly needs in order to be able to function at night.
Chronic pain is no joke, stress makes it worse, and the end result is me barely being able to turn my head most of the time. Every once in a while I turn in the wrong direction and paralysis from the neck up becomes five to ten minutes of hell, praying that it dissipates. Praying that I’ll be able to get out of the shower without it moving down my spine.
The official diagnosis is that the nerves in my spine (at the top) are pressing down where they enter and leave my spine, causing excruciating pain. Eleven days ago muscle relaxers were the only thing helping me sleep without practically throwing myself across the room. Monday night it got so bad that I found myself researching herbal muscle relaxers. I found some that are supposed to work and work well, they’ll be here Thursday. How sad is it that I long for the days when I can move properly and sleep without waking up with a tension headache, migraine, and/or jaw pain from grinding my teeth due to stress? I feel like a nightmare because I often feel as though I’m trapped in some horrible movie that no one has been able to finish writing.
So script writer (God, Goddess), I am not amused. I have always been willing to put in the work and not take the easy route (I’ve been doing this way too long to think it’s ever going to be handed to me.), but once in a while you’ve got to work with me. I am not asking to be a billionaire, I am not asking to be Oprah, but I am asking to be able to live my life with a lot less pain and drama, a considerably larger amount of love, support, friendship, and people I can trust that aren’t going to turn on me for selfish, sick reasons, and something that is mine, and only mine. Something we all deserve that is untouchable because it’s part of the reason we are all here. We all deserve happiness that no one can touch. Period.
This might be a day late, but at least it’s honest.