Changing expectations

 

So I have not been good at blogging lately, I have not been good at anything…working, cooking, laundry, taking care of those I love.  I have barely kept my head above water.  But I keep trying.  And I guess that is the point…I keep going, no matter the weather (speaking of my bodily ills).

This week I may have been trying too hard.  I planned to cook dinner in a half hour space between commuting home from work, and teaching a voice lesson at a studio 5 minutes away from home.  I just wanted to help out and make my husband dinner for once…I tend to leave him to cheese tortillas and cereal, and I wanted to try harder….that was the goal.  But when all was said and done, he was upset that I had pushed to get it all done.  Now that I look at it, I am not sure why it became so imperative for me to get dinner done in less than 30 minutes.  He reminded me that it was not a requirement for me to cook dinner every night…he does not expect it.  But I wish that I could.

It was like I had a vendetta against my body that night. I was going to do what I felt I needed to do, regardless of how I felt, or the fact that I had no real time. KD truly understands extent of my pain, better than I do, especially at the end of the day.  He is always patient with me, and content to do the things he needs to do to help me be at my best for work.

I just wish that work was not the only thing I did well.  I manage to work a normal week and considering my chronic pain this is amazing; I know so many people who cannot even work part-time…I am a lucky girl.  However, what upsets me is that the minute I arrive home, most nights, I am done for the day.  I have no energy to even wash my face  before bed, let alone do chores, or other things that I might want to do.  But I must be thankful that I can hold down a full time job and bring in an income for my family. I am very grateful for this.

So despite my complaints about my seemingly abbreviated life, my determination is to be as positive as I can about all of it! But also I need to set realistic expectations for myself, and not push it when I know I should not.   The chronic overachiever that I am needs to back off.

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Float On By

A couple days since I have had the wherewithal to write, and I am finding that I regret not chronicling what I have been going through, if only to examine it so I can find this suffering’s purpose or the good within it.

But maybe that is the problem with me.  I tend to cling to what happens to me and around me, to roll it over and over to try to make sense of it all.  If I have learned anything from that book I am reading, it is to just let it all float by.  So today this is all I will write, because of the fear that a long post would be filled with crazy angsty crap full of excuses.  I think I will use writing more to just mark the day.  So today I mark this day full of insanity, but I let it float on by, for now.

I Don’t Want To Talk About It!

But why?  I think that some good could come from me sharing my pain experiences, and how life has changed in order to deal with pain.  But I truly avoid talking about it with anyone, let alone putting words on a page to be recorded for all eternity, when maybe at some point those words could help someone else.

Do I really want to write to help other people?  If so, why do I avoid it like the plague.  Days come up where I feel like something that has happened is worth noting, and worth putting down.  I think I struggle with writing in general because I have a fear of the permanence of words. Once they have been published, or put out into the universe, they are there for all time.  The internet makes this all too easy.  I think I write by hand in assorted notebooks that I keep with me, or around my house on different shelves and tables, so that I can write, but it can still be private.  Am I hoping that like Emily Dickenson, that someday someone discovers all my bits and pieces of writing, my rants and whines, and ugly poetry and holier-than-thou declarations, all of which I seem to be deeply embarrassed by, will be found and prized by the public?  I really don’t think so.

So my real endeavor today is to decide that I will try to record and share my chronic pain experiences.  For somehow, it is important, and could help others who experience pain, if just for something to relate to.  To help others feel like they are not alone in their experiences, that someone on this huge earth understands their tiny lives, this could be a purpose.  But I feel so tiny and alone, and that is why I think what I have to share and say is unimportant to anyone but me.  That could be perceived as an elitist attitude too…it short I am down on myself in general, and that is the first thing I need to stop

Stop it, stop it!  I am going to start writing and sharing, if only to try to share what I go through and the fact that I find a way to make it through another day, and then another.  Is that an accomplishment or something even to be proud of?  I don’t know, but lets see what my writing will do.  I can at least try!