Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Insulated monologue


Sunday morning I was taking my dogs for a walk and I stumbled on a slippery patch on the drain ditch road and I fell.  If you've read this blog for a bit, you know this happens a lot.  The nerve pain is destabilising.  So I've had some rough pain days of late.  Especially today.  The only time I could get comfy was in bed.

We had a birthday celebration for my brother this evening.  It was fun.  We roasted hot dogs and BBQ tempeh for the vegetarians (me mostly).  We played "Just Dance".  We roasted marshmallows and sat by the fire pit and talked.  But a lot of the time I was thinking, "This is great, but when can I get back to bed and my brand new Sealy pillow?"

My inner monologue has been incessantly disparaging the pain situation and I really just want it to just shut the fuck up!

From my friends and family to my therapist, I've been urged to talk about it.  But when I can't stand it, how could anyone else?  And I think I've been reaching out.  Trying anyway.   I think I've put more of myself out there with this blog than I had pretty much ever before.  But I feel so isolated.  I need someone to cuddle up with me, wrap their arms around me, spoon with me, and get it,  I mean really get it.  And as supportive as everyone is, you don't get it.  You don't, but I appreciate you all trying.

In the last months (what like nine of them?) I've gone through that range of emotions associated with grief.  And I thought, so fatalistically, that I wouldn't love someone again.  Like a shot of lightening I realized that I was wrong. 

So what is the point of these ramblings?

I've found something else I want, something else I need.  Something I will try for just as I try to survive the pain, the lack of health care, and the loss of so much.  It isn't like me wanting a new Mac or wanting season 2 of Fringe to never end.  This is something deep in my soul I hunger for, hunger like the starving.  But unlike the starving, not just anything or anyone will do.

Here's to figuring it out, to discovering what you need, and here's to the quest to attain it.

1 comment:

  1. I hope you get what you want, (and I think I know what you're alluding to...) And I know I don't "get" it sometime, and for that I'm so sorry! But I never tire of listening to you so don't think that I do!

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