How is Today Worse?
FEBRUARy 4, 2020
How could today be worse? I went to bed last night determined to make this day better than yesterday — with no delusions of it being anywhere near good, just wishing for something slightly less horrible. But I woke up in unbearable bodily and nerve pain with a massively swollen face yet again, unable to even get out of bed until midday, only finally possible with the help of medication (natural, holistic, pharmaceutical, topical, internal, all of it) and the summoning of new internal wells of will I did not know I possessed. I managed to make it upstairs and spoon myself a smoothie, trying out three different chairs in the process, all of which were miserably uncomfortable.
Physical pain is the worst trigger imaginable. The accident did serious damage upon impact and in its aftermath, which I cannot seem to beat, despite my focused, exhaustive and persistent efforts and expert medical and other support over five harrowing months. When I feel low, weak, beaten down, broken, I really really really just want to give up — which makes it that much more difficult to summon the strength necessary to forge ahead and surmount compounding layers of still omnipresent trauma and psychological challenges. I felt a panic attack coming on, and thus turned to the tools and tactics I’ve been gaining, calling upon and consciously employing one after another to no avail.
I needed to get out, though wasn’t sure where I was heading or why — but desperately sought grounding, fresh air, a change of scenery (and reality). I went outside, unable to make it far before doubling over in agony, all but collapsing to the earth. I sat in the dirt, shielding my sensitive and unprotected face from the sun, trying to focus on simple deep breathing between winces and tears. I couldn’t stay long, hobbling back inside, first to my medicine cabinet for another concoction of drops and tinctures and pills, and then to my bed, hoping they would soon kick in — which they have, to but a meager degree. Here I lie, unable to move much at all, head propped up to alleviate hurt, typing with one hand while trying desperately to find a position in which the other arm doesn’t throb incessantly.
This isn’t the day I wanted, nor the one I envisioned. It is terrifying to go to sleep or wake up without a clue as to what the morning or afternoon, even the next hour or minutes, will hold — physically, mentally and emotionally, the combination of which forms my being, my experiences, my truths, the state of MY union. I am trying to stay positive and to heal, both within and with outside assistance, of body and mind, for the present moment and for what may lie ahead. Sure, today isn’t as acutely treacherous, precarious and terrifying as my recent personal past, but that hardly seems worthy of celebration. Right now is altogether painful and hellish.