On Monday I took my dogs on a mile-and-a-half walk around the neighborhood. Our morning walk is the final grasp on daily exercise I haven't totally dropped yet, and I rely on it greatly to create normalcy in my life. A life that is by all other accounts, sliding off the rails. Monday's walk itself was uneventfully wonderful, until I stepped off the curb to return home, and rolled my right ankle. Later that day I woefully reported to a friend, "I twisted my ankle and it's mildly swollen and minorly sore--and I really need this to get better by tomorrow." Full of determination to not let yet one more lame-ass problem screw up my life, I iced it, took Advil, and wrapped it up in an Ace bandage. By Wednesday the bruise was still quite pronounced, but my range of motion was pretty much fine.
But on Wednesday between my flare and med change, and the fact that I hadn't slept for two nights, I woke up crying. Emotionally raw and too sensitive to exist with the world, I proceeded with my obligations as best as I could. Except for on Wednesday when I was returning from my walk, a woman almost ran me over in the crosswalk. Twice. So as I yielded the right-of-way, I yelled at the bitch. Dirty words, you bet your sweet ass. Then the man behind her yelled at me for yelling at her. ARE YOU FLIPPIN' KIDDIN' ME????? So I flipped him off and burst into tears. I wanted to scream, "Do you want to kill me too?" but was too overwhelmed with the complete mess of a human being I had devolved into. So I walked home sobbing, past the mailman I see every day, and proceeded to wail like a baby for the next three hours. I mean, what on earth is this--a world of horrible people I'm just supposed to exist in, and have I become one of them? I finally got a grip and decided I wasn't allowed the luxury of having emotions at this time in my life, and tried my damnedest to make myself numb. What a peach my husband had to come home to last night.
So today I'm gun-shy about taking the same walk I've taken every day since I bought my Yorkie ten years ago. I don't want to get killed and don't trust my reactions toward the people who may try, or defend those who do. But I'm trying to be the tough chick who pulled herself from the depths by taking no excuses, so on my walk we go. Or more precisely, we try. Because this time, in my paranoid preoccupation with not getting hit by dangerous drivers, I step off the curb and into a pothole--and splay face-first into the middle of the street. My dogs do, too. Luckily my guardian angel preoccupied the greater Los Angeles driving-brigade until I was able to collect myself, my children, my belongings, and hobble over to the curb. And wouldn't you know it, I rolled the other ankle. So here I sit with a bloody knee, ice on my left ankle, scrapes on my elbows, and puppies who are freaked out but fine. Thank God. Wondering why the hell I'm back in 2013 again. I mean, I barely survived it once. What on earth makes anyone think I can survive it again?
Thanks for joining,
Leah
Oh, Leah! How awful for you. I want to wrap my arms around you and tell you, it will get better. Don't worry about crying or feeling mad, bad or sad. You are still alive. You still matter.
ReplyDeleteJan
Hi Leah,
ReplyDeleteDon't give up. I know how difficult it is to do normal everyday things when you have pain and extreme fatique. And to have more pain on top of that....sometimes it is more than we can bear.
Having fibromyalgia, rheumatoid arthrits, and ankylosing spondylitis.....my heart goes out to you. It is a constant struggle and no one gets it, unless they are going through it also.
I found your blog a year ago. I really enjoy reading it. What a great writer you are! And a beautiful women. You inspire so many people. So maybe my "medicine" of tell you how great you are ...will make you feel a little better.
Feel better. All the best. Keep on writing, and know that it does make people feel better knowing that they are not alone.
Oh Leah, damn it! Isn't it just the way that you are trying so hard to get just one thing back on track and this is what happens.
ReplyDeleteBut my immediate thought was, your not listening to your body and your are fighting instead of accepting. That first ankle twist. Yep, give yourself some love and ice and stay down instead of fighting to get out. I do understand that you are used to fighting and maybe you did fight your way out of it last time. What I know to be true is "what we resist, persists". Could you try to stop resisting your body? It needs rest, more than you are willing to give it. But what do I know, all I know is that is how I got out of my own way and found peace. I still get sick all the time, but I'm not in bed like I used to be. The ER 2 Fridays ago and today I'll be running errands for the first time. I rested as long as my body needed it. I didn't want to at all. Looking at my house, dirty dishes, carpet with visible "stuff" on it. All take a back seat now. Opinions, you know what they say about them and you'll do what you think is best. Just please give yourself some love too.
You sound just like me. I really don't think it's your fault. You are sick. We are emotionally pushed up the end of reason. My boss called me a martyr. He has no idea the suffering I was enduring trying to support my family. I had to leave that job and now am frantically hoping to get social security back. I lost it because I got married. His assets. Then he tossed me out. I had to work sick. Now I'm waiting for a miracle. And I know I sound like a mess. But I never was like this. I got my bachelor's degree with a GPA at the top of my class. I know how to make life work. Or I did anyway. Now it's all falling apart again because of this damn illness that destroys your life but nobody lines up to support you like they do when the tragedy is visible. Ours is always invisible. Thanks for sharing so truthfully. It's a real help.
ReplyDeleteYou sound just like me. I really don't think it's your fault. You are sick. We are emotionally pushed up the end of reason. My boss called me a martyr. He has no idea the suffering I was enduring trying to support my family. I had to leave that job and now am frantically hoping to get social security back. I lost it because I got married. His assets. Then he tossed me out. I had to work sick. Now I'm waiting for a miracle. And I know I sound like a mess. But I never was like this. I got my bachelor's degree with a GPA at the top of my class. I know how to make life work. Or I did anyway. Now it's all falling apart again because of this damn illness that destroys your life but nobody lines up to support you like they do when the tragedy is visible. Ours is always invisible. Thanks for sharing so truthfully. It's a real help.
ReplyDeleteHi, Leah I'm so sorry and I know how you feel. I'm 49 & my fibromyalgia is terrible. I had back surgery almost 2 months ago recovering really well but, my fibromyalgia stil has my back hurting. I pushed myself to mow my yard yesterday stopping & resting in between & had a hard time sleeping my legs ached & throbbed til I finally fell asleep, I know it would be worse because I push mow my yard. This morning my shoulders are hurting so bad. I can't give up so, I grin & bear it because I enjoy working in my yard. I can't take Lyrica. I take cymbalta for my anxiety, depression & fibromyalgia in one. It never stops the pain. I wish there was something that did. Living like this is awful on us all but, with God all things are possible.
ReplyDeleteHope you are OK. You have not posted in almost 3 months and I/we are worried! What is new with you? Thanks for your inspiration.
ReplyDelete