May Today Be The Worst Day

I wept alone, my tears and melancholy echoed in the rain and grey surrounding me beyond the windows — and then the phone rang. Typically, a call interrupting my typing into my iPhone would be nothing new. I’d wait anxiously as it rang, not daring to pick up for months (even my closest friends), then resume my writing, my processing, my attempts to make sense of whatever troubling or stressful emotions are proving most overwhelming, like how today could possibly be worse — with horrendous eye pain, massively swollen eyes and cheeks and mouth, inability to do anything and a vaporizing will to go forth. But I saw the face of one of my dearest brothers, longtime mentors, inspiring spirits and wisest souls appear on the screen in that moment — the two of us smiling side by side in a happier place and happier time in the photo I have saved under his contact.

For some unbeknownst reason, I answered, yet couldn’t stop crying or utter a word. He seem to understand viscerally. He spoke directly to my soul. He comforted a pained, despondent woman who hasn’t been able to acknowledge, engage with or reply to anyone in days (again, I am sorry). What he said wasn’t groundbreaking, and I certainly don’t believe the fallacy that mythical words can fix an injured body or traumatized brain, yet it still resonated deeply, and, of course, was beautiful, generous and truly kind. All words carry profound meaning — whether spoken or written, from friends or strangers, sent to me specifically or simply crossing my path, amid hellish darkness or rare momentary relief.

The specifics of what was said will remain between us, but he reminded me of why I am needed in this world, ensured that I feel I am receiving proper medical care, prioritized my safety and wellbeing above all, told stories of our glorious past that would again be our future, demonstrated unwavering love, support and presence — and closed with something I wish for constantly.

"May today be the worst day,” José said. I repeat such in affirmations, force myself to believe it to be true, try wholeheartedly to manifest that positive notion, surrender entirely, yet somehow, days continue to get worse physically and psychologically. I am no pessimist, yet have all the reasons in the world to doubt progress on this unending, unhappy, unthinkable path of horrors called recovery.