Patience And Pills

Patience and pills. Such is the sobering reality of my life right now, not by choice.

​

Today has been hard — acute head and ocular pain, unremitting problems with light and intensely stressful anxiety (as well as stomach issues, just to add to this miserable mix!). I don’t know and can’t pinpoint what brought any of it on, but have been lying in the dark practicing various relief techniques for hours to no avail. Painkillers are the only things that offer relief, still only treating some symptoms. I need pills.

​

I feel defeated. I feel frustrated. I feel afraid, though I am working hard to not let that negate or derail my sense of progress. These past two months since the accident have forced me to learn that I'm tougher than I ever knew, braver than I believed and more adaptable than I could conceive of. I frequently remind my body and brain that we are on a long, non-linear recovery journey, plus, it hasn’t even been one week since my major facial reconstructive surgeries. I need patience.

​

Perspective is valuable — and whenever possible, I try to focus on the good, count my blessings and dial in on what I can control. I falter, I fall, I fail. But I have risen and I will rise again, like countless souls who have overcome far greater adversity, more daunting battles, horrific trauma, afflictions and obstacles. I pray my current situation is impermanent, one that even this impatient patient can endure. Patience and pills, I repeat to myself. I need patience and pills.